#the twelve days of halloween | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 3 months ago

Text

My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year.

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room.

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time.

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t?

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being.

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast.

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal.

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t.

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here.

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face.

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison.

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles.

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?”

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt.

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards.

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet.

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.”

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right.

Shit.

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing.

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?”

��Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck.

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer.

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And-

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips.

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already.

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy.

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning.

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh.

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans.

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open.

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it.

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it.

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours.

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt.

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that.

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched.

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked - translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you��”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it.

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly.

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?”

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy.

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl.

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big.

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing.

It made your mouth water.

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it.

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice.

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt.

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots.

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest.

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm.

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else.

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content.

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-”

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point.

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close.

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll.

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said.

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you.

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to.

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see.

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip.

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan.

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That.

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise.

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him.

Exactly how he’s been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit.

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words.

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees.

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches.

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once.

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling.

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base.

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna.

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath.

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t.

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 1 year ago

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i see a post talking doom and gloom about how we'll never escape toxic masculinity. i think about back in 2017 when american girl released their first boy doll, and a review for him went viral in the collecting community. the review was written by a mom, who said they went into the store to get their daughter a doll, only to see their son's eyes light up like fire when he saw a doll that looked like him, and now every night he puts his doll in pajamas and rocks him to sleep. i think about the toddler in my daycare room a few years back who was obsessed with baby dolls, carrying them everywhere, and his mom proudly told us he uses his sisters' old baby dolls and wants to be just like them. that toddler saw another toddler crying one day and gave her the doll he had to cheer her up. i think about the eight-year-old boy i saw a few years back, excitedly waving around raya's sword in a target checkout line like all his dreams were coming true. there was a video on my instagram the other day of a little boy at disneyworld crying with joy upon meeting his hero, mulan. i think about the voice actor for bow in the she-ra reboot saying his nephews only wanted adora action figures. celebrity men are wearing dresses on tv now. last halloween i saw a little boy dressed as elsa. i went to go see spiderverse over the summer, and in the line ahead of me was a boy who couldn't be older than twelve or thirteen, bouncing and beaming, giddy with excitement over getting to see the female-led romance movie elemental. i think about the five-year-old boy at my library who breathlessly asked me where the pinkalicious books were, eyes widening when i had more on my cart, his mom explaining that he is all about pinkalicious and fancy nancy. i saw so many pictures online of boys and men dressed in pink to see barbie. teenage boys are gonna open their phones and see the man who wrote fucking game of thrones dressed in pink to see barbie. when i was a kid, a boy dressing in pink was practically a social death sentence. there are boys running around in pink on my street right now.

#mine

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nucleardog55 · 4 months ago

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It’s that time of year again where I remember the twelve foot tall skeleton from Home Depot and get all worked up about it and desperately check the price to get it shipped to Australia even though I know it hasn’t changed and then get sad that I’ll probably never have the twelve foot tall Home Depot skeleton.

This will be my fourth year in a row

#twelve foot tall Home Depot skeleton #Home Depot #skeleton #Halloween #fuck I’ll be in debt one day but it will be worth it cause I’ll have a huge skeleton in my yard #spooky season

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zuckergussprinzessin · 1 year ago

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anxiety disorder squad how are we doing this october

#personally I'm so ready for this to be over #I'm really not doing well this year and the Halloween stuff is really messing with me #twelve more days #Charlotte has issues #anxiety #really wasn't looking to get jumpscared by the fucking Duolingo owl

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago

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the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do.

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack.

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family.

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park.

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy.

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly.

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?”

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky.

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them.

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.”

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode.

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house.

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear.

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack.

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.”

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same.

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend.

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!”

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape.

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted.

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him.

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls.

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.”

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin.

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody.

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end.

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music.

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched.

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade.

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips.

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself.

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it.

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips.

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?”

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?”

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair.

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard.

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.”

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand.

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!”

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.”

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?”

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?”

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.”

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs.

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours.

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening.

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present.

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–”

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.”

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–”

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?”

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…”

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.”

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals.

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him.

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together.

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut.

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside.

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch.

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth.

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.”

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head.

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…”

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?”

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him.

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in.

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy.

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side.

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you.

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared.

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles.

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.”

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room.

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame.

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice.

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!”

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down.

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.”

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?”

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder.

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?”

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes.

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold.

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside.

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.”

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.”

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet.

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well.

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him.

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.”

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.”

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness.

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within.

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head.

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life.

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–”

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway.

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you.

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh.

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop.

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it.

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative.

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.”

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs.

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…”

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?”

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?”

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!”

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out.

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room.

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.”

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.”

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk.

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.”

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin.

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…”

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air.

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy.

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely.

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.”

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek.

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold.

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms.

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock.

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you.

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…”

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth.

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock.

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.”

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.”

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum.

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole.

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

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ultravioletrayz · 4 months ago

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𖤓KINKTOBER '24 M.LIST𖤓

my first ever kinktober!! have fun :)

day one: sensory deprivation w/ simon 'ghost' riley

day two: free use w/ billy butcher

day three: temp play w/ john wick

day four: dry humping w/ kyle 'gaz' garrick

day five: public sex + exhibitionism w/ homelander

day six: cockwarming w/ john price

day seven: phone sex + mutual masturbation w/ tony stark

day eight: glossaphilia w/ venom (+ eddie brock)

day nine: degradation w/ ellie williams

day ten: toys w/ wade wilson

day eleven: size difference w/ könig

day twelve: boot worship w/ soldier boy

day thirteen: edging w/ shiu kong

day fourteen: spanking w/ johnny 'soap' mactavish

day fifteen: somnophilia w/ queen maeve

day sixteen: cum play w/ toji fushiguro

day seventeen: pain kink w/ logan howlett

day eighteen: dirty massage w/ nanami kento

day nineteen: sex in the bath w/ higuruma hiromi

day twenty: HALLOWEEN w/ miguel o'hara

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reidmania · 4 months ago

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sharpest tool | spencer reid

series masterlist

series status; ongoing

summary; you are not the biggest fan of relationships after being disappointed too many times until you meet spencer reid. everything is great until he leaves for a case right before you make it offical and you don’t hear from him again.

warnings; fem!reader, season 7 spencer, avoidant!reader, reader is lowkey a bad bitch, miscommunication, normal cm stuff, ghosting, fluff & angst, hurt x comfort, 18+ because there’s suggestive mentions and illusions to sex, mentions of sex, overthinking & doubts, bad past relationships.

an; hi guys im so excited for this. u will notice each chapter is based off a different song. please comment if u want to be apart of the taglist for this series so u dont miss when chapters come out.

Chapter release dates are all based off australian dates which mean for americans it will technically be the day prior to the one written, also keep in mind this is a loose guide and chapters may take longer!!

this will also be written majority from reader’s perspective, but there will be bonus chapters for spencers side!!

one; the only exception -

two; feels like -

three; full machine -

four; motion sickness -

five; l know it wont work (spencer pov, bonus chap to four) - 10/10

six; dumb and poetic

seven; how many things

eight; halloween

nine; decode

ten; lie to girls

eleven; the prophecy

twelve; not thinkin’ ‘bout you

thirteen; fine line

fourteen; fools gold

fifteen; false god

im so very excited for this guys. please be excited too. or else i will lose all motivation to continue this series and then i will be sad (yes that is manipulation. Pls be excited) song artists below !!

the only exception- paramore

feels like - gracie abrams

full machine - gracie abrams

motion sickness - phoebe bridgers

i know it wont work - gracie abrams

dumb and poetic - sabrina carpenter

how many things - sabrina carpenter

halloween - noah kahan

decode - sabrina carpenter

lie to girls - sabrina carpenter

the prophecy- taylor swift

not thinkin’ ‘bout you - ruel

fine line - harry styles

fools gold - one direction

false god - taylor swift.

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starswritingdorm · 3 months ago

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KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

!!!! EVERYTHING IS ALL CONSENSUAL !!!!

WEEK ONE ─── ೃ࿔₊• {COMPLETED!}

DAY ONE - BONDAGE {VIL X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWO - BITE MARKS {MALLEUS X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY THREE - COCKWARMING {ACE X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY FOUR - WARDROBE MALFUNCTION {LILIA X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY FIVE - PHONE SEX {FLOYD X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY SIX - MUTUAL MASTURBATION {JAMIL X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY SEVEN - SEX TOYS {RUGGIE X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

WEEK TWO ─── ೃ࿔₊• {COMPLETED}

DAY EIGHT - GANGBANG {FIRST YEARS X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY NINE - PANTIES {EPEL X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TEN - SHOWER SEX {LEONA X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY ELEVEN - PUBLIC SEX {ROOK X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY TWELVE - SEXTING {CATER X F!READER} SMAU ★

DAY THIRTEEN - FACE FUCKING {SEBEK X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY FOURTEEN - CAUGHT MASTURBATING {JADE X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

WEEK THREE ─── ೃ࿔₊• {COMPLETED}

DAY FIFTEEN - HATE SEX {RIDDLE X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY SIXTEEN - RECORDING {IDIA X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY SEVENTEEN - ROLEPLAY {JACK X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY EIGHTEEN - BRAT TAMING {AZUL X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY NINETEEN - DOUBLE PENETRATION {MALLEUS X F!READER X LEONA} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY - THIGH RIDING {SILVER X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY ONE - GANGBANG (2ND YEARS X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

WEEK FOUR ─── ೃ࿔₊• {completed!}

DAY TWENTY TWO - COSPLAY {IDIA X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY THREE - EXHIBITIONISM {DEUCE X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY FOUR - BREEDING KINK {TREY X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY FIVE - VOYEURISM {KALIM X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY SIX - SENSATION PLAY {LILIA X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY SEVEN - ANAL {JAMIL X F!READER} DRABBLE ★

DAY TWENTY EIGHT - HUMILIATION {ACE X F!READER X DEUCE} ONESHOT ★

WEEK FIVE [FINAL] ─── ೃ࿔₊• {completed!}

DAY TWENTY NINE - CHOKING {SEBEK X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY THIRTY - ORGASM CONTROL {CHE’NYA x F!READER} ONESHOT ★

DAY THIRTY ONE - GANGBANG {THIRD YEARS X F!READER} ONESHOT ★

─── ೃ࿔₊•

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 🖤

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the-crowbar-was-my-kryptonite · 1 year ago

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Inktober Day 12: Spicy

When I saw this prompt I was like, oh it's me. I love nothing more than a good book and a pumpkin spice latte. But I do *hate* writing about myself in any capacity, so I'm so lucky that my best friend let me steal her laptop and work on her HTTYD fan-fic while she worked on this for me. The following is her words, very lightly edited by me.

You take a sip from your pumpkin spice latte and blush violently as the next series of words appear on the page.

Your heart pounds. You think to yourself: Oh dear God, in public? But you knew this was coming.

The Book is particularly mischievous when you’re around other people. The dialogue it creates becomes increasingly suggestive and sometimes explicitly spicy, much to your enjoyment and utter humiliation. It knows you somehow. It creates scenarios particularly tailored to your preferences and interests — sometimes things you didn’t even know you would be excited by until reading them on the page.

Sometimes the Book talks directly to you. Those passages are particularly odd. It often feels like receiving a love letter or particularly steamy text from a partner. But other times you can only wonder how on earth the Book is not only able to write spontaneously, but able to write about you so specifically. You’d spend hours typing passages from the book into search engines, only to come up with nothing but failed searches or distantly similar writing. At some point, you had to admit: the Book was writing to you — creating stories for your eyes alone. Part of you finds it terrifying…but the terror only lasts for so long, at least until your curiosity overpowers your fear, as it often does. Whatever unsettling feelings make you want to burn the book or throw it away or tear out its pages always abate, and it’s only a matter of time before you open the Book again, eager to see what it has in store for you this time.

All art by @cool_beans_jw on insta. Writing by @violet-moongem and editing by the weird sister.

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anonymousewrites · 9 months ago

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader

Book 1

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Chapter Five: Ramen Shops

Chapter Six: Christmas Eve

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals

Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display

Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit

Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations

Book 2:

Follows the Events of Season Two

Prologue: Relationships

Chapter One: Cafes and Clothes

Chapter Two: Saiko's Mansion

Chapter Three: Cold Days and Warm Hearts

Chapter Four: Cute Girls and Ghost Girls

Chapter Five: Competition and Curses

Chapter Six: Seasick

Chapter Seven: Stranded

Chapter Eight: Raft

Chapter Nine: Misinformation and Memories

Chapter Ten: Fortune-Telling Transfer

Chapter Eleven: Mark of Death

Chapter Twelve: Family

Chapter Thirteen: Festival Competition

Chapter Fourteen: Elderly Project

Chapter Fifteen: Dates and Judo

Chapter Sixteen: Teruhashi's Tears and Rifuta's Crush

Chapter Seventeen: Occult Love versus Sweet Loves

Chapter Eighteen: Evil Spirits and Pranks

Chapter Nineteen: Insecurity and Talkative Transfer

Chapter Twenty: Investigative Transfer

Chapter Twenty-One: Culture Festival

Chapter Twenty-Two: Festival Play

Chapter Twenty-Three: New Year's Premonition and Valentine's Day Gift

Chapter Twenty-Four: Clone Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Five: Confessions

Specials:

Pride Specials: 2024

Halloween Specials: 2024

Random Specials: Comment Special

Christmas Specials: 2024

Taglist:

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@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

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#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki fic

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bamgyw · 2 months ago

Text

˖°𖡼.𖤣𖥧 little red riding hood 𖥧𖤣.𖡼°˖

summary: afab!reader x werewolf!beomgyu just as little red riding hood entered the woods, a wolf met her. little red riding hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him. little red riding hood modern [smut] retelling.

warnings: little plot, lot of smut at the end. fingering, biting, sucking, they fuck in the forest? dub-con. definitely not as pretentious and cheaper than six nights.

word count: 6,5k

rey yaps: rey comeback. yay. as you can see, this is not the six night update. i am so very sorry. if you don't like it, i did it on purpose. it's camp. happy halloween.

once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her. whenever the wind whistled she wore a warm, scarlet cloak, so she was always called little red riding hood.

the window’s open just enough for the wind to slip through and moan against the narrow slit. its sighs blend with the creeping chill of autumn nights, making it too easy for her to ignore the other sound—the low, mournful howl of the wolf stalking just beyond the trees. waiting. starving.

but inside—warm, cozy, oblivious—she’s giddy, caught up in the process of getting dolled up. the vanity of the pre-party ritual. halloween night, or the night to honor the ancestors' harvest festival by dressing like an unapologetic slut.

she leans in closer to the mirror, dragging the eyeliner brush across her eyelid. the black ink smudges into a sultry, careless flick.

her reflection stares back—rosy cheeks, fox like eyes, lips twitching into a smirk as she perfects her look. red little riding hood. she’s got that ominous, almost brilliant look of blood on snow; hair like lint, cheeks tinted a synthetic red, lips red like wine.

outside, the darkness gathers thick. that part of town—the forgotten edge where the trees grow too tall, too twisted, their branches clawing at the sky—has a reputation. by day, the leaves rustle with tiny, cheerful birds. but by nightfall the trees bend into shapes that shouldn’t exist, and the black between them isn’t just dark. it’s hungry.

she doesn’t care. not tonight. she’s excited.

she’s got a boyfriend, and she adores him in that hopeless, foolish way. taehyun—so princely, so mature, so different from any other boy she’s ever known. just the thought of him sends a flutter through her stomach.

but her excitement falters, her hand with the eyeliner brush pausing mid-stroke.

for quite some time now, she’s had the gnawing feeling that taehyun doesn’t like her anymore. he's distant. cold. the hunger in his eyes has dulled into something worse than disinterest. he doesn’t kiss her the same, doesn’t touch her like he used to. the golden glint of lust she once saw in his gaze is now replaced by dull apathy.

but not tonight. tonight, she’s going to fix that.

she has gotten herself a ridiculous little dress, so charming and frilly that it would drive any boy insane. a costume meant for a twelve-year-old, that should stretch over her curves and frame her just so. a skirt that's more like a belt made of little ruffles, barely brushing the tops of her thighs. puffed sleeves, and a corset cinched tight enough to steal her breath—she doesn’t care. she’s pulling the hunger back into her boyfriend's eyes.

the cheap red costume lays across the tub, a mess of fabric that’ll turn her into something untouchable. a gift for him, draped in lace and bows. she shrugs off her bathrobe, careful to close the door but leaving the curtains wide open. why bother? what harm could come from the empty wilds?

in a deep red bra and panties that cling like fresh blood to bare skin, the fabric is thin, barely there, a gauze that the cool night air slices through. the chill raises goosebumps, and her nipples harden beneath the lace, two sharp peaks straining against the sheer veil.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf is watching.

she notices her own reflection and pauses, taking in how her body looks under the dim light. the slight tremble of her chest, the rosy peaks beneath the lace. her breath catches in her throat as she runs a hand over her stomach, feeling the curve of her waist.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf starts salivating.

she has drowned in self-loathing lately. the boy she loves has been treating her like she’s nothing. she’s felt like nothing. but tonight —must be the witches, the spirits and the ghosts— she feels pretty.

the wolf thinks she’s pretty too. he has spotted a tender, plump mouthful, and hunger is curling in his belly. he can’t hold back anymore, and his howl cuts through the silence—sharp, hollow, vicious. and the wolfsong is a warning. the sound of death by the window.

she freezes. a chill creeps down her spine, not from the cold, but from something primal. she holds her breath, listening. and then she hears it—a soft, distant inhale. a wet and heavy breathing. not hers. human, but not quite.

her head snaps toward the window, eyes wide. there, in the darkness, something moves. no, someone moves. two glowing yellow lights. embers, burning. they don’t blink. they just… watch.

she pulls the drapes shut, heart racing, forcing a grin. halloween, she thinks. just some asshole playing a prank. a cheap, silly trick.

somewhere in the woods, the wolf smiles.

just as little red riding hood entered the wood, a wolf met her. little red riding hood did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

"just go from streetlight to streetlight," she tells herself.

focus. one light. two. a quick breath of safety before plunging into the next stretch of black. the cold night air curls around her, prickling her skin like needles.

her little red heels click against the uneven pavement, the sound echoing in the stillness. for a moment, she feels that gnawing, unshakable sense that she's not alone. but she shrugs it off, laughs under her breath, calling it paranoia.

the road ahead glimmers beneath a blanket of fallen leaves, slick and shimmering in the muted glow. on either side, the dense, impenetrable forest looms—a thick monster of dark green and black, framing her path to the party.

above, the moon, full and obscene, watches her like a voyeur. all still. all quiet.

except, that is, for the rustling of leaves beneath the predator’s steps. the wolf moves with ease, slipping behind her unnoticed, eyes on her legs as they sway, hungry.

this is his territory. she just doesn’t know it yet.

tucked inside her little basket—a cute part of the costume she’s rebranded as a purse,—there’s a small pocket knife. mom’s voice echoes in her head: “you never know what's lurking out there, darling.”

however, no amount of steel could cut through the one rule. the rule older than the trees that lined this cursed path. in the history of women walking alone at night—never, ever make eye contact.

so when she sees the shadow up ahead—thin, crooked, leaning against a lamppost with a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips—her heart does what it must. it kicks into overdrive.

head up. eyes forward. don’t let him know you're aware of his existence. her fingers tighten around the basket’s handle, knuckles turning white. it’s fine, she lies to herself. just keep walking.

one meter.

he tilts his head slightly, tracking her as she nears, but doesn’t move. her heels click louder now, faster, echoing hollow.

two meters.

close enough to smell the smoke curling from his cigarette. her skin crawls, but she doesn’t falter. just a few more steps and he’ll be behind her, another shadow, another forgotten threat. she feels a sudden, punctuating cold down her neck, but she barely pays attention to it.

three meters.

she passes him, breath held, heart pounding. it's done, she's safe. her fear was stupid, it always is. then it happens—a hand, cold and solid, lands on her shoulder.

her stomach drops. she spins, ready to scream or run, but the words die on her lips when she sees him.

a beautiful boy, just—beautiful.

dark, untamed. his hair’s a mess, falling over his forehead, deep brown eyes glowing like embers. flannel over a ragged band tee, the faint scent of smoke and damp leaves hangs around him.

“you dropped this.” his voice is low, nearly a growl, as he holds out her little red hood. it must’ve fallen when she rushed past.

“o-oh.” she stammers, half breathless, “thanks. i didn’t even realize.”

as she takes it from him, his gaze lingers for too long, making her hyper-aware of the way the dress clings to her body.

“pretty…” he says, the word half-whispered. a slight and wicked smirk touches his lips, like he knows he can degrade the costume and the girl beneath with just a single look.

a shiver races down her spine, but she forces a smile. “t-thanks.”

his eyes drag up and down her body, slow, making sure she notices. heat blooms in her neck, unbidden, and she tells herself—this dress is for taehyun, not for some stranger who smells like rain-soaked earth and cigarettes. and yet, when he bites his lip, something flutters low in her stomach—dangerous, thrilling.

“little late to be walking around dressed like that, don’t you think?” he sneers, and scorn flickers in his eyes. but the humiliation sends a shiver through her, one she doesn’t quite hate. “you headed to the party?”

“obviously,” she shoots back, spreading her arms, letting him take in the dress—though he’s already noticed, definitely. still, she’s relieved. he knows about the party, and suddenly he feels closer, more familiar. not quite a stranger anymore. “you?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, casual, like it’s nothing. “not really big on parties, though. i prefer the quiet.” his voice dips, eyes lingering on her. “but you gotta socialize… or you get lonely.”

“right.” she quirks a smirk, finally letting herself look him up and down. “but it’s a costume party, you know.”

“oh, i’m in costume. i’m just subtle,” he says, grin spreading wider, darker. “wanna see?”

against her better judgment—against every instinct screaming at her to walk away—she nods. his smirk deepens. he lifts his lip, just enough for a single sharp fang to catch in the dim light.

she laughs, half-relieved. “that barely counts as a costume.”

“oh, but it counts,” he says.

“fine. so, what are you supposed to be?”

he leans in just a little closer, his words coiling around her like smoke. “that’s the game, pet. you have to guess. guess right, and you win something. guess wrong...” his smile widens. “well, i get something.”

naive and pathetically charmed by the boy, she raises an eyebrow. “what do i get?”

he leans back, pretending to think, though his eyes never leave hers. "i mean... i'm a stranger in the woods. you get to walk away... unharmed."

poor thing, she rolls her eyes like he was joking. "and if i don't guess right," she speaks, her voice softer now. "what do you want?"

"a kiss."

her heart stumbles. she'd give it to him, gladly. hell, she'd guess wrong just to get their lips together. but... “i'm really sorry i…” she stammers, smile faltering, “i have a boyfriend.”

and though he doesn't seem fazed, his expression shifts. subtle, but unmistakable. his eyes darken, the playful charm fading away. “you shouldn’t go around teasing strangers when you're all alone like this,” he says softly, “might find yourself in trouble.”

she swallows hard, "i– i'm so sorry, i wasn't trying to—"

“it’s whatever,” he says, stepping back into the shadows, his voice a low warning. “go to your boyfriend, little red. but be careful. there are wolves out here. and not all of them are as friendly as me.” he pauses, a smirk twisting his lips. “name’s beomgyu, by the way.”

and so little red riding hood wanders on, oblivious to the truth: wolves wear many skins, each one crafted to prey on vanity, on longing, on the hollow spaces left unguarded.

they slip through shapes, feeding on weakness and hunger. but it’s in the glow of those predatory eyes that you recognize him. the unmistakable trace of his essence, the constant lurking in every form.

the wolf is as cunning as he is ferocious; once he’s had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.

the halloween party is but a yearly excuse for yeonjun to show off how filthily rich he is and make a joke out of it. as if by opening the doors of his mansion to the rest of the mortals he lets them in on the punchline. a spectacle for the sake of being one. a big parody of himself.

and tonight, he’s dressed as gatsby, because of course he is. the slick white suit shimmers under the bruised purple lights, like a spotlight trailing him—and it might as well be, because yeonjun is the spotlight, soaking in every second of it.

he carries a champagne glass permanently attached to his hand, always swirling just enough liquid to keep things classy but not sober. every grin he flashes feels rehearsed, and he keeps crooning “old sport!" at anyone close enough to hear.

he's a cartoon. a well-dressed, charming caricature of wealth and tragedy, and everyone in the room knows it. and they love it. and he loves it more than anyone.

the music thumps through the house like a pulse, vibrating underfoot and inside ribcages. it’s too fast, too loud, forcing everyone to keep moving or else be swallowed up by the noise. by the chaos. bodies blend together, creating a messy tangle of limbs and sweat, grinding and swaying under the flickering strobe lights.

a chandelier overhead swings crooked, crystals throwing fractured light around, mimicking a starry sky in a thousand different colors. it's gaudy, too big for the room, and yet perfect for yeonjun’s vision. a crown fit for the king of excess.

she sits on the edge of it all, watching. just watching. taehyun’s next to her, but he might as well be miles away.

his eyes are glued to yeonjun who leans in close, whispering something in his ear, pointing out random people in the room. every now and then, taehyun’s lips twitch into a smirk as he scans the room like he’s calculating everyone's worth, everyone’s weaknesses.

he hasn’t looked at her once. she could have been invisible.

the bitterness stings, but she pushes it down. instead, she reaches out, her fingers grazing his arm, trying to pull him back to her, even if just for a second. “hey… you wanna get out of here? somewhere quieter?”

taehyun doesn’t react at first, not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes. he’s in his own world, lost in whatever game yeonjun’s playing.

dressed as a medieval knight, his armor shines under the lights, making him look even more untouchable. when he finally speaks, it’s almost an afterthought. “yeah, yeah. in a bit.” his words are hollow, thrown over his shoulder like loose change. “just… give us a second.”

and before she can process it, yeonjun’s turning toward them with that same cruel smile he’s been flashing all night. “god, you’re clingy,” he says, “can’t handle not being the center of attention for, what, five minutes?”

her stomach twists, heat flooding her face. “i wasn’t—” she starts, but her soft spoken words quickly fall short.

“it’s fine,” taehyun cuts in, still not looking at her, “just… chill, okay? we’ll leave soon.”

it feels like a slap. not hard, not violent. just… cold. her chest tightens. and it’s so clear now—he doesn’t care. he’s tolerating her, only and barely. her fingers clench into fists on her lap. she swallows hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

"i’m… i’m going to the bathroom," she says, voice barely audible over the pounding music. but it doesn’t matter. taehyun doesn’t hear her.

she drifts through the crowd like smoke, unseen, slipping between the life and color all around her, barely there.

she finds her way out to the porch, cold air cutting into her skin, sharp as the bitter edge of disappointment still lingering in her chest. she hugs her arms, the night heavy and indifferent, pressing in on her as if to make her smaller.

yeonjun’s yard sprawls below, made-up like a graveyard—plastic tombstones lurch from the soil, skeletons claw out of dirt, grinning skulls leer up at her from the fog.

her breath puffs into the night, fading just as she feels she has, every inch of her dressed up for someone who never even noticed. ridiculous fucking slut.

but then, the air thickens, a chill going down her spine. she senses him before she sees him. a crackle in the dark, the slow burn of a cigarette lighting up.

“you look… sad, little red,” barely a purr. low, smooth, a murmur from the dark that curls around her like a trap.

she startles, spinning, heart slamming up to her throat. it’s him. beomgyu. the boy from the woods.

he's lounging against a stone grave, cigarette dangling from his fingers. his face is a smirk made of shadow, his eyes glinting, almost like he’s playing at something, watching her to see if she’ll play along.

“why aren’t you inside?” she asks.

“i told you," he says, snuffing out the cigarette against the stone, his gaze never leaving her face. "i like the quiet. besides...” his smirk stretches, razor-sharp. “can’t say i’m exactly welcome in there.”

then he stands. he steps closer. that lazy, stalking pace that narrows the distance between them, each footfall a reminder of who’s in control. the night presses her back against the railing.

“you’ll freeze out here, pet,” he says, words tipped with a cruel sort of sweetness.

he’s looking at her the way a wolf might look at a lamb. like he could devour her whole, and god help her, a spark of thrill runs down her spine, sharp as a nail.

she stares, heart skittering in her chest, searching his face for something human—but his eyes are restless, ravenous. and yet they see her, see through her. why couldn’t taehyun ever look at her like that? why couldn’t he see her like beomgyu did?

“i… i want to take that bet.” she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.

his eyes spark, the faintest flicker, and she feels like she’s opened a door she can’t close. he leans in, his smirk curling wider. “what about the boyfriend?”

she holds his gaze, refuses to look away, “the boyfriend doesn't give a fuck about me.”

one of his hands is already sliding around her waist like a snake coiling around prey. the other lifts to the neckline of her dress, fingers sliding up to tug gently at the red ribbon there, toying with it.

“then guess, little red,” he murmurs, lips curling into a pout that pretends innocence, “what am i?”

and from the bottom of her being, she knows what he is. but she doesn’t dare put it into words. she decides to guess wrong.

“a kitten, maybe?” her voice comes out playful, teasing, such a pretty little fool, “with those cute fangs?”

he laughs, sharp and cocky, and she watches his tongue glide over his canines. “wrong,” he murmurs, leaning down, his grin widening. “you owe me something now, don't you?”

she smiles, heart racing as she tiptoes to reach him and his arm tightens around her waist, providing a steady anchor. her lips brush his just barely, the peck of a little bunny.

but he’s already got her, pulling her in harder, his mouth a claim, his kiss a taking. his lips are cold, but the kiss is hot, burning. his jaw tightens and loosens wide and heavy, lips pressing against hers with a force that feels like he's taking something from her—something she didn't agree to give.

she allows him to do as he pleases, giving herself to him like she's under a spell. she clings to his frame, hands gripping his shoulders, body caught up in the press of him.

her breath becomes shallow, her mind a blur. his touch, his heat, too much all at once, too intense, too—

she dares to open her eyes. just to look at him. just for a second.

and she's terrified to discover that his once brown gaze is now molten, liquid yellow, something feral staring back at her. her pulse jumps, fear clawing its way up.

she pulls back, gasping, but he’s already there, leaning in again, his mouth hovering like he wants to bite, to consume. she raises her hands, warding him off. “i… i think i should go back inside.”

"why?" he purrs, and his breath impatient and almost manic against her cheek. "scared, little red?"

her throat tightens, "i don’t really… know you, and…" she tries to step away, but his hands close around her waist like iron. trapping her.

"you don’t need to." his fingers dig into her, reminding her that her body is his to command. he draws her close, “let’s play one last game, pet. just one. what do you say?”

“what… kind of game?” she asks.

and just like that he lets go. he steps back. a twisted offering of freedom she knows can't be trusted.

“we race,” he says, voice low, almost playful. “you run. back to your house. if you make it—” his eyes gleam, hungry “—i leave you alone.”

“and if i don’t?”

beomgyu never replies. he stays silent, shadows pooling in his amber eyes.

the full moon hangs ivory, casting a ghostly glare across his face. he glances up at it, bathing in it's glow like it's medicine. then his gaze drifts back to her, that twisted, merciless smile twisting his face.

and he just starts counting down.

ten... nine... eight...

she doesn't wait for seven.

she bolts. she flies down the steps, heart pounding, her feet barely grazing the ground as she breaks into the night. gravel scrapes beneath her heels.

six.

she ditches her shoes mid-sprint, stumbling onto the cold, wet ground. the fake cemetery looms around her, fog twisting between the tombstones as adrenaline pushes her forward.

five.

the sound of him shifts, something subtle at first—a dark, guttural growl building low in his throat. her heart stutters. it’s happening.

four.

a crackle of bone, a sickening pop, a snarl splitting the quiet night. something breaking, reshaping. she hears his breath deepen, his bones stretching, snapping.

three.

a howl cuts through the night, piercing, shuddering through her bones, her skin, her soul. the sound belongs to something that is no longer human.

two.

she dares to glance over her shoulder, just once, and what she sees makes her blood run cold. a massive, shadowed figure, fur gleaming silver under the moonlight, teeth bared in a snarl that sends ice through her veins.

his eyes, the same molten yellow as before, are locked on her, brimming with a hunger that borders on savage.

she never hears the one. she just runs and runs, as fast as she can. but the wolf is faster.

carnivore incarnate, only immaculate flesh appeases him.

the trees claw at the sky. gnarled limbs jutted out, crooked talons waiting to snatch her, tear her apart, make her one with the dark.

she doesn’t run but hurtles through the blackness, branches snapping beneath her feet like brittle bones. the forest isn't just there anymore—it's aware, watching her, toying with her. she can’t stop. can’t even breathe.

he's after her. and he's close.

“guess right, and you get to walk away unharmed.” how she regrets what she's done. she should've guessed right. should've kept her life instead of trading it for a kiss. stupid mistake. stupid choice by a foolish girl.

but just when she's about to give up she sees—between the curtain of twisted trees, the faintest flicker of light. her house. it's almost a visual illusion. something so desired it seems unreal. so near. almost there. her heart skips with hope.

she never makes it.

something cold as death clamps around her wrist, yanking her back. her body slams against a thick, gnarled oak tree, the bark biting into her back. it’s like the forest itself is starving for her, clawing at her, pulling her deeper into its hunger.

she feels red-hot, searing pain. then the wet warmth of his breath on her face. human again, if you can even call him that. all ragged, scraped and scratched. but human.

"run, run, run," he purrs, voice slick with amusement, "did you really think you could get away?"

it was never about catching her—it was always about the chase. the thrill of letting her think she could escape, just to tear that illusion apart in the final, hopeless moment.

she’s not escaping. not now. not ever.

"little red," he says with a sultry pout, his index finger tracing her jawline, “you seem so scared…”

“w-what are you going to do to me?” she asks.

she tries to wrestle, always avoiding his eyes. but each movement affects her physically, making her more aware of his body against hers, of his hands upon her.

he lowers himself, bringing his face close to her neck and breathes her in. his nose grazes her skin in a barely-there caress that makes her insides tighten. he nuzzles his head against her throat, his body stirring as if comforted by the scent.

“you smell even better up close,” he says, his lips parting as they hover over her neck. he lets his tongue brush her skin, savoring the faint saltiness. “taste even better than i imagined."

he sends a shiver through her, a crackling thrill that races under her skin. her heart beats so swiftly that she feels as though this were the moment she had expected for years. she almost stands up on her toes to hear the rest of his words.

"you’re so beautiful, little red.” he continues. “boyfriend never noticed, but i did. i’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

and she knows it's true. she would’ve known even if he hadn’t said a word—could’ve felt it in the way his arms cage her against the rough bark of that oak, the trembling eagerness in his body.

he wants her, not gently, but raw and feral. and when she meets his gaze, those amber eyes glowing in the half-light, starvation licking at the edges, she feels something inside her shift. the want for this monster—this creature with fire burning in his stare, diabolically phosphorescent.

in quiet awe, she says, “what big eyes you have.”

“all the better to see you with.”

he does see her. exactly how she wants to be seen. and she wants to let him see more.

she pulls off her scarlet shawl—a flash of poppies, the bloody bloom of sacrifice. and since fear is of no use to her now, she sheds it like old skin, too. next, the blouse—soft, almost apologetic in the way it slides over her head—leaving her breasts bare, kissed by the cold silver of moonlight.

his arms find her without thinking, tight, firm, an embrace that feels like iron bands. in that grip, something stirs inside her, something she hasn't felt in so long it almost frightens her—it’s not just being wanted, but being claimed, protected, as though she belongs to him entirely.

“what big arms you have,” she breathes, her fingers tracing the hard ridges of his bicep, brute strength beneath her palms.

“all the better to hold you with,” he grins, his lips parting just enough for her to catch the white of teeth. the daggers of fangs.

her voice drops to a whisper, “what big teeth you have.”

“all the better to eat you with...”

his words slither out just before his mouth crashes onto hers, devouring. his lips, firm and greedy, drink from her, swallowing her breath, tongue invading with a force that leaves her dizzy.

his hands grip her body with the same ruthless intensity, fingers mauling her flesh like claws, leaving painful bruises blooming under his touch.

his mouth drifts lower, down to her jaw, down to her neck, teeth grazing her skin in teasing bites, until he finds the soft skin of her chest. the hardened, sensitive nipple. he sucks hard enough to leave a bruise. a mark of ownership. meant to hurt. to claim.

his tongue grazes the sensitive peak again, teasing her with the cruelty of it, dragging it out. her breath falters, and before she can choke it back, a broken whimper slips out.

“good girl,” he purrs against her skin, “such a good little pup.”

his hands aren’t far behind. they drift lower, fingers tracing the curve of her body, abandoning her chest like it’s no longer enough. they slide down her sides lingering over her stomach before slipping between her thighs. his fingers brush the garters, barely caressing the lace straps holding them tight against her legs.

“too tight, don’t you think?” his voice is quieter now, almost thoughtful. he traces the garter’s edge again, pressing into the skin where it’s biting in. “let’s see if it left a mark.”

he lifts her skirt, letting her feel every inch of skin being exposed, every second of her body laid bare to his gaze. her leg lifts instinctively, just a small movement, but enough for him to slide the garter down, peeling it away from her thigh.

and there, above the edge of her stocking, her skin gleams, reddened, damaged by the strap. he stares for a second too long, then up at her, asking for permission, knowing very well he has it already.

of course, she lets him.

his fingers skim the inside of her thigh, higher, until they’re at the edge of her panties, toying with the fabric like it’s something fragile. he grins, teasing. and she sees in his eyes, in his invigorated breath, that something violent is coming.

his fingers press against her cunt, once, cold and firm, right against the damp fabric clinging to her skin. then comes a ruthless slap, quick, and she bites down on her lip hard enough to taste blood. then a second slap, harder, leaving her moaning, and her hips jerking toward him.

without a word, his finger slips past the soaked fabric, and makes its way inside her, slow but firm, pushing through the heat of her skin like he’s sinking into something molten, something desperate.

her back arches hard against him, her head falling onto his shoulder. the surrender comes easily—she doesn’t fight it. she opens for him, lets him push deeper, lets him take.

he stops when he’s knuckle-deep, breath hot against her ear. "you like that, little red?”

her heart slams against her chest, and the wet heat grows, slick and throbbing. she can only nod and let out a pathetic “hmph”.

she’s already soaked, but the need—the ache—builds with every passing second, with every subtle shift of his breath, his body looming over hers like a shadow.

another finger slips in, just as slow, until he curls them inside her, pressing deep enough that she feels every inch. her entire body trembles, a soft moan slipping from her mouth.

he pulls out his fingers, but only for a second before he plunges them back in, harder this time, deeper. forcing her body to open for him. her breath hitches, and her cunt clenches around him, her walls spasming as he presses further.

“such a tiny little hole…” he says, almost to himself, a wicked grin curling his lips.

when he withdraws, he drags it out, agonizingly slow, like he wants her to feel every ridge of his knuckles as they pull back. the emptiness is immediate, the loss of him, the loss of that pressure, unbearable.

he holds his hand up, and her eyes widen. she can see the evidence of her need painted across his skin, shining under the dim light.

the dampness between her thighs coats his fingers in a thick sheen. it glistens, dripping down toward his palm, the slick strings of her arousal hanging between his fingers. “so fucking wet for me,” he growls, his voice rough, edged with a sharp, dark amusement. “dripping like a little slut.”

his hand moves again, back down, fingers sliding over her trembling cunt, tracing along the wet, swollen folds. when his fingers find her clit, they barely press—just enough to make her shiver, just enough to make her whimper. the wet bud throbs under his touch, every nerve in her body firing at once.

"beomgyu p-please," she whispers, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice.

the grin that spreads across his face is demonic, a depraved satisfaction settling in the lines of his jaw. every second that passes is his to control. in one fluid motion, his hands are at the waistband of his jeans, undoing them with a pull.

the pants slide down, peeling off like skin, and then he’s free. the hard line of him, thick, swollen, standing rigid in the faint light. it gleams, slick at the tip with precum, and her breath stumbles over itself, catching, holding, as her eyes latch onto the sight.

his hand wraps around his cock and he strokes himself, the rhythm heavy. his size makes her breath hitch—the way she knows he’s going to stretch her, fill her completely.

the thought of him fucking into her becomes all-consuming. her thighs tremble, and she can feel the clenching heat between her legs, aching, desperate.

he moves corruptly slow, dragging the swollen tip of his cock down, sliding it through the soaked mess of her folds. it’s a tease, the wet heat of her slick coating him, and the pressure of him right there—right at her entrance—makes her head spin.

a moan escapes, soft, helpless, her lips parting as he toys with her, his cock gliding up and down, never giving her enough, always holding back just a little longer.

his eyes lock with hers, and they’re glowing, that eerie golden glow, something unholy in them, “beg for me.”

“p-please,” she chokes out, the haze of lust clouding every rational thought. “please, beomgyu… i need you. please.”

the second the words spill from her mouth, he moves. he thrusts into her, forcing her open, the thick length of his cock splitting her apart. the stretch is instant, a burn that radiates through her core, and she gasps, her back arching as he fills her.

the tightness of her cunt clamps around him, a desperate attempt to take him all in, and she can feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein as he pushes deeper, harder, until he’s buried to the hilt, his cock seated deep inside her.

he grips her hips with ruthless strength, his fingers digging into her skin, sure to leave marks, bruises that will linger. he holds her there, buried deep inside her, savoring the way her body shakes, the way her walls flutter around him.

“ah, fuck…” he groans, his voice rough and guttural like he’s barely holding back from wrecking her completely.

a tremble runs through her like a live wire, raw nerves, everything sparking at once. she adjusts to the size of him inside her, body bending, flexing around the thick intrusion. she feels like she's being split open, the sharp line between pleasure and pain blurring until it’s just sensation—hot, pulsing, overwhelming.

he starts to move, each thrust like a shock to her system. his hips grind into her with almost cruel force, ricocheting pleasure up her spine, waves crashing in her chest.

"look at you," he growls, voice thick with satisfaction, "taking me so well. fuck, my little pet, keep making those noises for me,”

she whimpers in response as the coil of pleasure in her belly winds tighter, tighter, pulling her in. he slides in and out of her, their bodies tangled, twisting, rolling together. her cries now mount in endless spirals, loud as if he was murdering her.

beomgyu answers each cry with a deeper thrust, pushing into her harder, his hips slamming against hers with a brutal sound. he’s lost in it, in her, in the need to possess her to annihilation. she belongs to him now, her body molded to fit his touch, pliable under his hands.

his fingers tangle in her hair, yanking her head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck, and his lips find her there, hot and hungry, biting, sucking, the sharp edge of his teeth sinking into her skin between breathless kisses.

his grip tightens as his thrusts become frantic, erratic, the control slipping from his grasp. “s-so fucking close,” he groans, his voice raw, trembling, every word a struggle against the rising tide of his release.

and with one final, savage thrust, she's the first one to shatter.

the orgasm crashes into her with a force that steals her breath, her vision blurring, her walls clamping down around him as her climax takes over.

he escapes a low, animalistic sound. a howl that vibrates through her chest. he fucks her through her oversensitivity and his thrusts grow rougher, less controlled, his hips slamming into hers. the obscene slap of their bodies colliding fills the air, the noise of flesh on flesh, sweat-slick and raw.

he curses under his breath, his hips stuttering, his cock buried deep inside her as he finally comes, his release spilling into her, thick and hot, filling her completely, warmth flooding through her as her body trembles uncontrollably under the onslaught of pleasure.

beomgyu’s teeth sink deep into her flesh. biting hard enough to leave marks, her skin yielding under his canines, and she whimpers, too far gone to feel the pain, her body burning with pleasure, every nerve on fire, every sensation magnified as the aftershocks ripple through her, wave after wave of white-hot bliss.

his cock twitches inside her, pulsing, pumping more of his release into her, and she sobs, her body shaking as the pleasure rips through her, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. her vision blurs, white-hot flashes behind her eyes, and all she can feel is him—filling her, marking her, owning her.

with a snarl, he finally pulls back, releasing her neck, and a soft moan slips from her lips as his tongue flicks over the small wound he’s left behind, licking away the blood, soothing the sting with gentle kisses. there’s a tenderness to his touch now, strange and foreign after the brutality.

slowly, he shifts his hips, easing his cock out of her, and she whimpers at the sensation, her body so sensitive that every movement reignites the sparks of arousal beneath her skin. she feels him drag against her, the last of his release leaking out of her, warm and thick, a reminder of how thoroughly he’s claimed her.

she lies there, spent, panting, her body soft and malleable under his hands, no longer her own but something broken, something he’s molded, possessed. his slave, his ownership, growing soft under his fingers.

for a moment, everything is still.

the only sound is their ragged breathing, their chests rising and falling in sync. his body stays pressed against hers, his warmth seeping into her, grounding her in the moment. his lips brush her ear, “you’re mine now, little red. all mine.”

she doesn’t even have the strength to respond. she’s spent, hollowed out, drained of everything, her body limp, barely held together by the weight of him, by the grip of his hands still clutching her as if she might slip away. everything feels far away, like she’s underwater.

the world fades—blurry sounds, dim lights—and then she’s weightless, cradled in his arms as he carries her like something fragile.

there’s nothing but moonlit quiet and deathly cold in the woods. only the soft fall of his steps, paw prints in the ground.

and little red sleeps, forever nestled in the arms of the tender wolf.

taglist 𖥧𖤣.𖡼°˖ @beomiracles @yoseicour @fairfootedflekk @bubbly-moon @izzyy-stuff and i know more people asked to be on the general taglist but i'm an idiot and i never kept track so. yeah. sorry. just ask again.

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