#this was so brutal oh he had no mercy

[kindahoping4forever]

Ashton Instagram Live - 6 June 2024

Including acoustic performances of:

"Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac

"Drive" from SUPERBLOOM

A teaser of "Wild Things" from BLOOD ON THE DRUMS

"Straight To Your Heart" from BLOOD ON THE DRUMS

"Red Desert" by 5SOS

"Wicked Game" by Chris lsaak

[nanaslutt]

JJK men's reactions to you using your safeword

Incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

cont: fem reader, established relationships, multiple positions, throatfucking, choking, asphyxiation, rough sex, squirting, dirty talk, aftercare, comfort, fluff

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

Your knees were folded to your sides as Gojo stood behind you and bullied his massive cock into your cunt at an inhumane pace, the pleasurable pain making tears spill down your cheeks. "S-satoruuu-" You cried when he angled his cock to fuck right into your sweet spot, making you dizzy.

Your legs were starting to ache from the position he had you folded in, his hands under your knees keeping you snug there so you were unable to move, completely at his mercy as he manhandled you and fucked your cunt. "You look so pretty when you cry from my dick y'know that? Fuck I should take a picture." Gojo giggled, watching your face contort in the mirror in front of him.

You gasped when Gojo's cock suddenly slipped out of your pussy as he released you from his hold and made you stand on shaky legs in front of him--not for long though. The white-haired man then wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting your body off the ground a few inches as he slipped his cock back inside your cunt with ease as he started up that same brutal pace once more.

Gojo grit his teeth at how tight you felt in this position. "Oh fuckkk, baby look, I can see my cock through your stomach like this. I'm so fucking deep." He grinned, staring at the bulge through your tummy with a fucked out smile. You were caught too off guard to reply. He was right, he was deep, too deep. 

You were positive that Gojo was hitting your cervix in this position, he was so fucking deep. His wet balls were pressed flush against your ass, making it so every inch of his massive cock was stuffed inside of you. "F-fuck T-toru t-too deep-" You cried, your nails digging into his arms that held your body as you grasped him for dear life.

It wasn't uncommon for you to cry and whine during sex with Satoru, which is why he didn't take your please seriously, per usual. "Oh yeah? I'm too fucking deep?" Gojo moaned against the shell of your ear, making eye contact with your teary eyes in the mirror.

You sobbed when he thrust harder inside you, his fat tip absolutely crushing into your cervix, sending a painful jolt shocking through your stomach. "N-no really-" He gave you a few more hard thrusts as you cried on his cock, that same fucked out grin on his face. "R-red Satoru red!!" You yelled, squeezing your eyes shut in pain, your nails digging into his arm breaking skin from how hard you were grabbing him.

Immediately Gojo stopped moving inside you, his previously cocky smile fading from his face in an instant as he pulled out of you and set your feet down on the ground. "Shit, baby, what happened, talk to me?" Gojo asked, keeping his arms around your body as he lowered the both of you onto the plush carpet in front of the mirror.

Tears continued to flow down your face as you caught your breath, your hands coming down to press against your pelvis as you felt the dull ache inside you Gojo's cock had caused. "T-too deep, it really hurt." You said between gasps. "I'm so sorry princess I didn't know you were serious," Gojo said honestly, his arms wrapping tighter around your body as he held you against him, his watchful eyes staying on your face in the mirror.

"'S okay, it just really hurt." You sniffled, keeping one hand on your pelvis as the other wiped the tears from your face. "No, it's not, I'm sorry I really should be more careful," Gojo replied, pressing soft kisses against your shoulders and neck, his warm hands rubbing over your body to try and get you to come down. 

You stayed silent as you tried to catch your breath. "Good job for using your safeword princess, I'm so glad you said something. Never wanna hurt you like that." Gojo whispered after a while of the soft pampering kisses. You nodded in response, your breathing finally having evened out. "Thank you for stopping." You responded, one of your hands reaching behind you in the mirror to caress his cheek, making him look at you through the mirror.

He smiled softly at you before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. "Oh, course baby. Does it still hurt real bad?" He asked curiously, noticing how your hand was still pressed against your tummy. "It's a little sore...' nd I'm kinda nauseous." You replied, wincing in pain.

Gojo leaned into your hand that was holding his cheek as a silent apology before he moved his arms to scoop under your legs, one against your back as he picked you up with ease, cradling you in his arms. "Let's get you in the bath then I'll get you some tea, how's that sound baby?" Gojo asked, tilting his head at you for your approval. When you nodded he leaned forward and kissed your eye, swollen from your tears. You closed both eyes, letting his soft lips kiss the ache in your now dry eyes before he pulled away and whisked the two of you to the bathroom.

Geto:

The dark-haired man's hand pressed against your head, effectively shoving you deeper into the mattress each time he fucked his hips against yours. You gasped and whined each time you felt his hips connect with your ass, the fat of your ass rippling from the roughness of his thrusts.

"Take that fucking cock- take it-" Geto groaned, his one foot perched on the bed giving him the perfect leverage to fuck into you hard and fast. He had come home from a mission particularly worked up, saying something about how it went on longer than he thought and there were more casualties than he would've liked. So when you so graciously offered your body for Geto to take out his anger on, he would've been a madman to decline. 

You didn't know he was going to be this rough though. It almost felt like Geto was distant somehow, his mind still in work mode. He threw his head back and let his eyes fall shut as he mindlessly thrust inside your pussy, the wet squelches echoing in his ears only fueling him to fuck you harder, faster, so he could hear more.

You cried his name against the sheets, your words coming out muffled from how hard he was shoving your face against the mattress. "Be good, be a good girl baby." Geto groaned, his head tipping down as his eyes found yours, which tried to look at him through your peripherals. 

You were feeling an ache start to form in your back from how deep of an arch he had you in, and his head squishing your face against the sheets was making it hard to breathe. His hard thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs didn't help. You didn't want to tell him to slow down though, you knew how worked up he was, and you could take a little discomfort, it was fine. 

"Fuckkkk- you're sucking me in." Geto groaned. He pulled his hand away from your hip to land a couple of harsh smacks against the fat of your ass, one after the other, before he gripped the fat in his hand, his nails digging into your skin. That's when your mental state caved in. 

You could take a little pain, you could take a little discomfort, but you couldn't take it anymore. You wanted to bite your tongue for Geto you really did, but the pain soon overcame the pleasure, the ache in your bones became too much and you still couldn't shake the feeling that Geto wasn't mentally here fully. All the factors combined made you lose it as you lost your arch and tried to escape Geto's grasp, crying out, "S-stop, red- red, s-top."

Geto was certainly fully there now, snapping out of whatever daze he was in as his cock slipped out of you as your body curled up on the bed, your arms wrapping around yourself in comfort as fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Woah woah, baby, cmere, shit come here," Geto whispered, pulling up his boxers quickly before he laid next to you and pulled your body atop his, his hands rubbing over your back as you stayed tense, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, sobbing. "I'm sorry, i-i'm sorry." you cried, the guilt of not being able to please Geto the way you thought you should've washed over you.

"Hey, no, why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong. What happened baby?" Geto asked carefully, trying to look down at you as you held onto his body for dear life, trembling in his arms. "I-it was too much." you sniffled, trying to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, was I too rough?" Geto asked, clarifying your words.

"Y-yeah, I felt like you were out of it... I don't know it sounds so s-stupid now that I'm saying it out loud," you whispered into his neck, your words coming out choked and choppy. Geto stayed silent, save for his whispered hushes as he tried to get you to calm down. "I shouldnt have said anything i-i'm sorry. I couldn't even k-keep my word." You added, referring to how you said Geto could take his anger out on you. 

"No baby, you're allowed to tap out any time you're not comfortable. I don't want you to force yourself, that's why we have the safeword, right?" Geto asked, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at you, your head still buried in his neck. You nodded against his neck, he was relieved your sobs had turned into soft sniffles, he hated to see you upset. 

"You're right though, today really took a lot out of me. I thought taking you up on your offer would make me feel better because sex with you always does, but I'm just not feeling right tonight, I should've told you instead of trying to take it out on you like this, I'm so sorry." Geto explained, his warm hands rubbing soothingly along the soft skin of your back, making you relax into him.

"I-it's okay Sugu," you replied, nuzzling your head into his neck deeper. "Is it okay if I just hold you like this?" He asked, softness lacing his tone. You smiled softly, shutting your eyes as you nodded, "Please." You replied quietly. Geto's arms squeezed tighter around you, he wished he could somehow be even closer to you than you were right now, he had this thought a lot.

"I love you, baby, I'll be more careful with you, promise." He said, tilting his chin atop your head as he shut his eyes, heaving a deep sigh as he absorbed the warmth from your skin. "It's alright Sugu, really. I love you, I'll make you feel okay again only by snuggling. Just don't let me go." You whispered. Geto felt his heart swell at your words, how could someone be so cute?

Nanami:

You lost track of how many times Nanami had already made you cum on his tongue. His fingers inside of you had been drilling into your sweet spot for so long you were almost going numb. Your insides hurt from the constant pestering but you couldn't deny that it did feel good, sex with Kento always did.

After almost four hours of continuous orgasms and berating from Nanami's tongue and fingers, you thought he would be done--and he might've if you hadn't just squirted, the release sending blood rushing to Nanami's cock as he was suddenly reenergized from watching your face contort as you squirted all over his face.

"K-kentooo-" You cried, your nails digging painfully into his scalp as he ate you out like a man starved, your pelvis bulging from the inside out as he finger fucked you like his life depended on it, expertly angling his fingers to press right against your g-spot. "You can take it, sweetheart, need to see you squirt again," Nanami mumbled against your clit, too fucked out and absorbed in eating your pussy to pull away from you fully.

Nanami had always been the type of man who ate pussy for his own pleasure, but he never took it as far as he did tonight. Something about you interacting so well with his students had ignited a fire inside him as his brain created fantasies of the two of you starting a family together, his mind using the visuals of you patting his student's fluffy pink hair as you cooing at your own child, one that you had created together.

"I- I can't I can't- P-please-" You choked on your own moans, your face contorting in painful pleasure as your head shook back and forth against the tear-stained pillow. Nanami had a deep blush spread across his face as he looked up at you, the only time Nanami's eyes had left your face this night was to roll back in his own head when the pleasure of eating you out became too much for him.

He looked so handsome, his chiseled face buried between your thighs, wetness messily smeared all over the bottom half of his face and the inside of your thighs, he truly was fucked out. "Just one more time then I'll give you my cock, gonna fuck you so full." Nanami cooed, saying his words like they were supposed to be comforting. 

You felt your heart drop in your stomach at the promise of Nanami fucking you after this. In any other scenario, you would've been overjoyed to finally have Nanami inside you, as he always took extra time to stretch you out for him. But right now, you wanted nothing more than a break... or maybe a 14-hour nap. 

You shook your head as you felt your orgasm come on, the sensation feeling sore in your tummy as it crept up on you. You were sure if you let this go on you were going to pass out, it was too much. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, thinking your actions over in your head quickly, to prevent this from going any further, before you decided to speak, "Red Ken- r-red-."

Despite how gone and fucked out Nanami was, he snapped back to reality in an instant, the clouds in his head clearing as he pulled his mouth away from your cunt, stilling his fingers inside you. "Red? You wanna end it right now?" Nanami asked softly, watching your face with great attention and concern as he breathed hard, trying to catch his breath.

You nodded, your legs fighting to press together to escape any more pleasure. "Alright, alright." You could tell Nanami was still a little out of it, but he complied with great haste. Slowly slipping out his fingers he sat up and allowed you to snap your legs shut, your sore cunt throbbing from how long Nanami had been eating you out. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm sorry, are you alright? I got a little carried away." Nanami said, blinking away the fogginess from his eyes as he crawled up to sit back against the headboard, pulling your body to sit on top of his.

Your hair was a mess, your face was wet with your tears and your eyes were all out of focus. You laid your head against Nanami's shoulder with a sigh and allowed your body to slump against his, relishing in the break you were granted. "I was going to pass out if I didn't stop you." You whispered, still out of breath as you heaved into his neck, your hot breath tickling his skin.

Nanami smiled in embarrassment as he held your body tightly against his, one of his large hands cradling the back of your neck, the other scratching up and down your back. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was that hard on you my love. Does anything hurt?" Nanami asked. He leaned back and cupped your face in his hands, his disheveled look making you smile weakly at him, how did he manage to look so handsome all the time?

"It's a little... sore down there." You whispered, looking away as you felt your face heat up from his intense gaze. Nanami shut his eyes briefly, slapping himself internally for getting so carried away. "It's my fault." He said, biting his lip. "You interact so well with the kids I couldn't stop thinking about how you would be with one of our own." He said honestly, the already intense blush on his face spreading to the tips of his ears as he laid his heart out for you.

Your eyes shot back over to his in an instant, your eyebrows raising in surprise. "Y-you mean-" You started, your sleepiness getting put on the back burner as you put 120% of your focus onto the man in front of you. "I... fantasize about starting a family with you a lot. I guess it got the best of me today. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to hurt you." Nanami said, averting his gaze as he spoke. You don't think you've ever seen him so bashful before.

"Kento you're so cute, so so cute." You said, a smile spreading across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning forward as you peppered kisses all over his face. Nanami groaned as you smothered him with attention, simultaneously bringing him down with you and washing away the guilt he was feeling. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, I should've said yellow though, maybe that would've eased you up a bit." You smiled, pulling away to look into his eyes.

Nanami's face scrunched in embarrassment at how carried away he got before he looked back to you. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." He whispered, leaning his head against the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms tightly around your body, making your chest come flush with his. "I'll clean you up in just a moment, just let me hold you right now." He mumbled against your skin, his deep voice sending vibrations throughout your body.

"Take all the time you need Kento, I'm not going anywhere." You replied. You wanted to address what he had said about how he thinks about starting a family with you frequently, but you decided to not open that can of worms right now, in fear it would rile him up again if you revealed that you too, dream of starting a family with him. 

Toji:

"Mph-nghh-" Vulgar, embarrassing noises spilled from your mouth, being forced out from your throat as you gagged and choked around Toji's fat cock. "Take that shit pretty girl- fuuuuuck-" He groaned as he gripped the entirety of your throat with his large hand, squeezing as he felt his cock bulge out in your neck.

You had your head hung off the side of the bed as Toji stood in front of you and fucked his massive cock down your throat, his heavy balls slapping against your upper face, making your eyes squeeze shut as he facefucked you. "Such a sloppy fucking mouth, goddd-" Toji grit through his teeth as spit bubbles and saliva pool out the side of your mouth, smearing onto your chin and his thighs.

All you could do was moan and cough around him as he forced his massive cock down your throat at a ruthless pace. This had been your idea, and Toji had practically jumped at the opportunity to try this with you. You told him you wanted to get better at taking his cock down your throat, so what better way to do that than to give yourself no other option? In this position the only thing you could do was try to breathe the best you could around him as he fucked into you like a fleshlight.

"Good fucking girl, taking me so well." Toji groaned, shaking his head as he looked down at your sloppy face and your eyes that were all out of focus, rolling back in your head. "So pretty." He said under his breath, biting his lip. Toji thrust his hips flush against your face, his balls pressing against your nose, blocking off any last air source you had as he stilled his cock inside you.

He gripped your throat harder, trying to feel his cock pulse through your neck as he cockwarmed himself in your throat. His eyes fluttered in his head as he let your throat squeeze around him, his balls twitching with how intense it felt. Your eyes shot open in alarm when you tried to breathe, but could not.

You were instantly kicked into fight-or-flight mode as you slowly ran out of air. To be honest, you would've been alright for another thirty seconds or so, but it felt so much scarier in that moment, you thought if you didn't get a breath in that second, you would die. You moaned in alarm around Toji's cock, the man just groaning and praising you in response when the vibrations went straight to his balls. 

You thought fast, remembering your safe signal as you reached your arms up and tapped his thigh repeatedly. The consensus had been two taps, but you were panicking, so you gave him a couple more than two. It only took Toji a couple of seconds to realize you were using your safe sign before he was groaning an "oh shit" and pulling his cock out from between your lips, his hand abandoning the hold it had on your throat.

Strings of spit connected from your lips and chin to his cock as you coughed and sputtered for air when he pulled himself out. You spun your body around and sat right up on the bed as you fought to catch your breath, your hand coming up to grab your own throat when you felt how sore it felt. "Fuck baby, you alright?" Toji asked, reaching his hands out to push your hair away from your face, his hands grabbing your shoulders and rubbing up and down along them.

You couldn't respond yet as you continued coughing out the flem from your throat, trying to get a full breath of air before you spoke. "Couldn't breathe, huh? Were you scared?" Toji asked, his hands cradling your face as your coughing calmed down, your hand coming up to wipe your spit-slicked mouth with the back of your hand as you nodded at him.

"Shit, I'm sorry sweet thing. Didn't mean to scare you." He smiled at you, the scar on his face stretching as his lips curled up. Your eyes met his darker ones as his thumb slid under your eye to wipe away your tears, his gaze watching you carefully. "You wanna be done for tonight?" He asked, making sure you were tapped out completely. When you nodded he nodded back and reached one of his hands down to pull his boxers over his hard cock before he sat next to you on the bed, pulling your body close to his.

"Maybe that was too much too soon, huh?" He asked, his large hand rubbing the side of your head. You nodded, staying silent as he calmed you down, your heart still fighting to slow down in your chest, trying to recover from such a scare. "That's alright, we can take it slow next time. It was my fault, got too excited." Toji whispered as you shut your eyes and let yourself melt against his warm palm.

"You did so good though, y'know that?" He added, making you bury your head deeper into the crook of his neck, resulting in his smile growing. "Made me feel so good princess." He praised, rubbing your head soothingly. "Thank y-ou." You whispered hoarsely, your voice making Toji cringe when he realized the damage he had done to your vocal cords. "Let's get you all cleaned up and I'll make you somethin' for 'ur throat. You sound horrible." He laughed, ruffling your hair as he spoke. 

[wingyattium]

*+ᵎᵎ 🍊⋅ ˚✮ — quiet ride | fred weasley.

+ᵎᵎ syn: a thirst about sneaking into fred’s room to ride him in the middle of the night 😮‍💨😩���‍💫

+ᵎᵎ cont: approx. 0.9k, 18+, fem!reader, unprotected p in v, riding/cowgirl, hold the moan, dirty talk/language, pet names (love, doll), super horny!reader (ovulation mayhaps?), creampie, maybe a breeding kink if you squint, lmk if i missed anything.

+ᵎᵎ note: i’m so thirsty for him it’s not even funny.

the burrow was always so silent at night, the darkness narrated only by the shuffle of blankets and soft snores of its slumbering inhabitants; tonight was mostly the same— except for one section of the home.

soft pants, gasps, and whines flew from your lips as your hips dropped down on fred’s with dull, muted thuds — you knew you needed to be quiet, hyper aware of george sleeping only ten feet away, but it was so hard; he was filling you up so fucking good, stretching your sloppy walls and kissing your cervix every time he bottomed out.

“fuck, love, y’gotta be quiet,” fred whispered breathily, large hands bruising your undulating hips. “y’gonna wake up the whole house.”

of course, it was meant as a reprimand; but every soft moan and whisper of his name had fred’s cock kicking inside your pussy, betraying how much he really liked the sounds — but so did you.

you loved the small, slick squelches of his dick plowing into you; loved hearing his breath hitch when your cunt clenched around him; loved the soft, muted creaks of the bed frame as you rode his lights out.

it was so hot, your whole body flushed and buzzing, gut rolling and tense, pussy absolutely drooling around him; you needed him so bad, had wanted him all day. and now you had him, wholly and fully and deep.

there was no way you could keep quiet.

“i’m tryin’, fred.” you choked out softly, words hiccuped on a small moan. “b-but i can’t. your dick feels too good—!”

“fuck,” fred hissed, skull melting into his pillow and hips bucking up to shove himself deeper inside. “keep talkin’ like that and i won’t last long, at all, doll.”

you knew that already; you could practically feel fred leaking pearly pre into your walls, felt the twitch of his balls on every odd thrust, and his cock was so hard you thought it might be painful for him.

“hah, t-that’s okay,” you whined out, hips speeding up and slurping him inside a bit more noisily. “i jus’ wanna ride ‘til you bust.”

“shit, fuckin’ hell, you can’t jus’—!”

fred swallowed his words down immediately when a creak sounded from the other side of the room; the both of you stilled, frozen like ice, staring into one another’s wide gaze — there was a small shuffle before the noises quieted, and then there was just the light signature snore of george weasley.

you released a breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding.

“maybe we should hurry this up, love?” fred suggested in a quiet whisper, and you nodded mutely — fred motioned for you to lay flat on him, and you did, relief sinking into your tired legs.

“might wanna bite down on something,” fred murmured as he adjusted himself beneath you, but rather than do that, you opted to simply nuzzle into his neck. the faint spice of his cologne lingered on the skin.

“oh, fuck!” you gasped when fred began fucking up into you at a near-brutal speed, his thrusts short and precise and — holy fuck, he was hitting every single sweet spot you had.

your eyes slid back into your skull as you whimpered and whined into his neck, pussy sloppy and fucked open over and over, fred panting and breathing heavy from the exertion — it was so hot, in so many ways.

“fuck, love, i’m — gods, i’m close,” fred warned, arms wrapped tight around your body and hips stuttering subtly. “shit, where should — where should i cum?”

fred always asked this question, always left you in charge of that — and tonight, you knew exactly where you wanted him to bust.

“inside, please, wan’ it inside!” you slurred out, body like liquid — fucked out and completely at fred’s mercy. fred hissed and his cock kicked against your velvet walls.

“are you — are you sure?” fred asked, voice seeming to border on an aroused whine. you nodded eagerly against him, heart picking up speed with each delicious slide of his cock; fuck, you just wanted to feel him fill you up. it’s all you needed.

fred was fucking you even harder now as his orgasm approached, thrusts wild and less pointed, balls twitching and throbbing — he was about to bust, and you were losing it.

“bloody — okay, fuck, yeah, i’ll do it inside. hah, gods, ‘m ‘bout t’cum— coming!” fred’s words were cut off by a guttural groan as he buried himself once, then twice, and one more time inside your pussy, then stilled as ropes shot from his cockhead. you swore you felt them splatter inside you, painting you completely as fred’s.

“hah, shiiiiit, fuck… ‘s so good, love. fuck me so good, don’t you…?” fred praised as he fucked into you shallowly, riding out the receding waves of his orgasm.

you weren’t sure why he was praising you when he did all the work; not that you minded though.

“‘m sleepy,” you mumbled into his neck, the realization hitting you at a rather random time; fred chuckled and brought a hand up to smooth through your hair, his lips connecting to your temple in a sweet kiss.

“then go to sleep, love. i’ll take of everything else, yeah?” was the last thing you heard as you drifted off, snug and comfortable atop fred’s lean body.

[shotmrmiller]

retired pornstar ghost has always been a talker. his voice is deep— a low rumble like distant thunder. always gets anyone that's under him going.

his voice to his own ears sounds plain, like any other man, really; he doesn't see the appeal. but what he does find appealing are the noises that come from you, his cute co-star when he talks to you, lips dripping with honey.

ghost loves when you clamp down on his cock, squeezing him like a vice when his wicked words sink into your ears. "tight bloody cunt would drive any man wild, love. how lucky i am that it's me getting to fuck you."

"look at you under me," he stills the bucking of your hips with one hand, skin dimpling where his fingers dig into you, "at my mercy, taking my desire."

"doing so well," he coos.

ghost lets out a sharp exhale through his teeth when your walls begin to flutter around him. "so quick to come, and i haven't even touched," he moves his hand down to your mons, thumb finding your swollen pearl, "here."

the circles he draws there are tight, precise, destructive. he brutally wrenches your orgasm from you, and in your blinding ecstasy, you dig your nails into the side of his proportionately wider waist.

his hips undulate as he fucks you through it while still fucking talking.

"kitty's got claws, doesn't she? i love a little—" but the words that were on his tongue crumbled into ash. you'd dragged your nails on his skin in mild annoyance, because how dare he sound so untaxed even though you're still twitching from the aftershocks under him—

the silence spoke volumes; he'd even stopped moving. you did it again, and this time he had whimpered— a pathetic little noise that came from the back of his throat.

delicious.

you wonder. this time, your nails score red lines down the front of his chest, grazing a little too close to his nipple and he groaned. loud.

delectable, like thick, molten chocolate.

now it's your turn to do the talking. "the mighty ghost, rendered speechless. have i performed a miracle?"

peering down at you, his eyes hold a deeper shade than usual. you continue to claw at him, this time targeting his unmistakably sensitive nipple. the sight of his eyes rolling back in sheer bliss ignites a fire within you.

"my, oh my," the smug grin on your face perfectly matches your tone. "tell me what you need, ghost. you need me to mark you up? want to see me on you come morning?"

his growl is animalistic, a shiver licks up your spine. he quickly bends you in half, feet dangling helplessly on his brawny shoulders.

"bite."

it's easy to follow his edict when he hits so deeply in this angle that the pain and pleasure blur into one overwhelming sensation. your teeth sink into the thick meat of his barrel chest, and he abruptly stills, a guttural snarl escaping his lips.

he doesn't speak a word until after; when his seed drips from your glistening slit and sweat-slick skin begins to cool down.

"fuckin' hell, love."

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Naga King // Part 2

Part 1

Shian is the King of the Naga, the valued birthright of his family to one day earn the tribe’s respect as they murder the reigning King if they don’t offer their service to the heir. Many other tribes and kingdoms may say this is brutal but it was his way of life. 

“My King! A warrior of the canine race was found on our borders–how would you like to proceed?”

“The same we always have. Devour them.”

“Yes, my King.”

It was how his family established a kingdom in a world where the human kingdom was in the mood to acknowledge different tribes as kingdoms. Word has it that a hero had come to the humans that would unite all the separate tribes with some peacekeeping power. Naturally, Shian thought such a thing was the stuff of dreams; instead was planning to make the journey to gauge the threat of this new being. But of course his strength brings so much attention the chatty little snakes couldn’t help sharing about the oddest thing.

“Did you? Did you hear?

“Yes! Yes, I did! So beautiful! A beautiful thing!”

“A naga youngling! A naga youngling and their human parent!” 

“What a sight! What a sight to behold.”

Granted this news was not delivered maliciously but that didn’t matter to Shian. As King of the Naga it was his duty to protect the clear separation of all humans and Nagas. History and biology spoke volumes—Nagas are the better creatures. Shian was more eager than anything to prove this, especially on the journey to observe eliminate the hero meant to unite them all. But of course, this changes when he meets you.

“Oh (Y/n)! I saved our dearest Nox from a wild boar and I saved the body for a hearty meal!!! Can’t I come inside now!”

“No!”

“Please!? Wouldn’t you like it if I didn’t break the window, this time?”

Since he’s met you everything has changed. Now that he’s discovered that his destined mate is a fiery little human he’s had no choice but to reconsider. Now he can adore your flaws as a human and admire your unique traits even more. His skepticism about other humans hasn’t completely gone away but he’s plenty more merciful now that he has you to woo. 

“HISSS State your name and business human!”

“-I-I- just wanted to deliver the fruits I always do sir!”

“Hmm my mate did mention something about their usual shipment….fine but thank your stars I’ve decided not to gorge myself on those eyes of yours.”

“Y-y-yes Sir!”

Not to mention you have an adorable little Naga son! Not that he finds Nox particularly cute on his own but it’s the words he parrots from you that make him a delight to be around. It’s a biological thing that Nagas interested in a mate aren’t fond of their children previous or otherwise. Even when they’re created together, there’s a strong chance that paternal love humans expect may never appear. But he’s found when he acts as though that’s what he’s doing you excuse more of his behavior.

“Now to strike with your tail you’ll have to shift your weight like this."

“Oh I see!”

“Yes…good job…”

“Are you looking back at the window, again?”

“Well of course I am! You said they were looking, right?!”

He does find that the more time he finds with Nox he doesn’t hate him. He’s sure if he was any other little snakeling in his kingdom he’d fully be invested but this is the snakeling in the way of attaining his mate’s complete attention. This is why it’s easier to blame him than accept you’re not very interested in giving him your attention anyway. It does annoy him that Nox isn’t unaware of this. The little narc snakeling is happy to string him along; baiting him with his praises to you to learn things from him.

“What?! I thought you weren’t watching the fight?!”

“I didn’t but the forest talks. So how do you move so fast across the forest like that?”

“Hmph that’s a secret. Family secret, actually.”

“Oh, that’s a shame…guess I ought to tell them you could never see us being a family.”

“What?! That’s not what I–”

“Guess I'll call out in one. Two. Thre–”

“Okay okay pay attention I’m only showing you once.”

“Yes!”

In the Naga King's heart of hearts he kind of really loves likes this domestic life with you two. It feels as though the whole world is right when he can spend all day following and pestering you as he learns more about you. But it won’t stay that way forever. And unfortunately, his entourage and advisors will find him. Reminding him of that pesky hero he has to eat meet. It’s simple to debate with his team about taking you with him or sending you back home to his newly constructed castle. Of course, he neglects to ask your opinion on the matter and must reap the consequences.

“My (Y/n)...why are all of my servants tied on the drying line?”

“They started moving my stuff. I thought I told you and your little buddies to stop touching my house.”

“ But how are we supposed to move you to my castle?”

“What?!”

“(Y/n)...please put down the knife!”

After talking you down committing his entire entourage to chores you wanted done he ordains that you should try accompanying him on his mission to the human kingdom. Leaving out the part about the hero he suggests that he leave some of his servants to tend to your home and babysit Nox. This is entirely so that he can convince you to come to his castle one day. Not just so he can enjoy some alone time with you. And while you’d like to refuse Nox thinks it’s awesome. When you aren’t chasing the Naga servants away they regard him with kindness and very giving. And it’s that same observation that has you kissing Nox goodbye as you depart for the human castle.

“Alright, Nox be good…try not to grow up too much while I’m gone.”

“Of course not…if you want I can send my shedded tail skin to you so you can ‘see me grow up. ”

“Nox don’t do that. That’ll be weird.”

“I thought so too but the others say it’s an endearing thing.”

It’s going to be hard, returning to civilization. Since you’ve been isekai’d you limited almost all of your interactions with other humans and now you were going to meet the protagonist. But you wouldn’t let your mind be completely occupied because you would be distracted by the obsessed Naga king.

Part 3: ....

[notlongtolove]

like a lover

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even look at you again. he just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. by the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: hurt comfort

content: student!reader gets drunk after a brutal final and spencer is beyond mad. very brief mention of abduction. lowkey spencer is in the right bc #safety but he made reader cry n for that he is found #guilty!!!

word count: 3.1k

note: based off this ask! random fact the last line of this fic was the inspiration for empty my soul but idk why i just couldnt fit it in there, anyways i hope you guys like it! (pls tell me if u do i was struggling with a resolution for this)

a line: Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again.

I give you an onion. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. It promises light like the careful undressing of love. Here. It will blind you with tears like a lover. It will make your reflection a wobbling photo of grief. I am trying to be truthful. - carol ann duffy

You probably should’ve stopped five drinks ago—maybe four if you were feeling merciful. That last Vodka cran? A spectacularly bad idea. But whatever. You earned this. You’re young, you’re fun, you look good, and for the first time in weeks, you have no deadlines clawing at you. The final had been a nightmare. You knew your fate was sealed the second you flipped to question three. What the hell is textual and symbolic environmentalisation? But it’s over now. That’s all that matters.

The wind bites at your bare legs as you stand by the curb, aimlessly kicking a pebble. You hug your arms close, fighting off the chill. Maybe you should’ve brought a jacket. Spencer had suggested it, but you’d waved him off. He’s usually right.

You frown, glancing up at the street sign. He said he’d be here. Right? Your phone’s dying battery blinks at you in its final moments, mocking you before shutting off completely. Definitely should’ve taken his offer of a portable charger, too. You sigh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

A man stumbles by, reeking of booze. You don’t need to look to know.

"Hey," he calls out, voice slurred and gravelly.

You keep your eyes down, pretending not to hear.

“Hey,” he says again, louder this time.

Where the hell is Spencer?

"D’you know when the bus starts running again?"

You hesitate, half-relieved that he’s asking something semi-coherent. "I—I’m sorry, I’m not sure."

He nods to himself, swaying on his feet. 

"I told you to wait by the bodega on 3rd," a familiar voice mutters. Spencer’s hand closes around your arm, already steering you away.

"Oh, hey," you say softly, relief washing over you. "Is this not—" You glance at the street sign overhead—4 Maple Drive. Shit. "I—sorry, I thought—"

"It’s fine," he says, but the sharp edge in his voice tells you it’s not.

The car ride is suffocatingly silent. When he pulls open the passenger door for you, there’s no trace of his usual warmth. No soft smile, no gentle tease about your perpetually dead phone. Just a click of the door and the quiet thud of it shutting behind you.

You hate this. Hate the tension humming between you, the way his jaw is set tight as he drives. He was so different this afternoon, greeting you after your final with those cupcakes he knows you love from the bakery on the other side of town, his lips brushing yours in endless, giddy kisses. This Spencer is nothing like that. 

"They played ‘Dancing Queen’ tonight," you venture, voice tentative. He knows it’s your favourite. Knows it always pulls you to the dance floor, no matter how tired or tipsy you are. "It was so funny—some guy bought us a round of shots—"

"And you drank it?"

The question lands heavy. His first words to you since he’d started driving. 

"Well... yeah?"

"What else did you drink?"

"Not a lot," you say quickly, tripping over your words. "Just vodka, tequila, a bit of wine—"

"You mixed?" 

The way he says it makes you bristle. There’s a hint of disbelief, maybe even disappointment. 

"Spence," you say softly. "I’m not that drunk, I promise."

Nothing.

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. The silence in the air is almost tangible, a crackling, oppressive thing. When he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, he doesn’t move to open your door. He always does that. But not tonight. 

You’re pretty sure he’s mad at you, though you’re not entirely sure why. It’s not like you go out that often, and you can’t even remember the last time you let yourself get this drunk. Tonight was an exception, a celebration. He understands, doesn’t he?

You follow him inside, trailing behind like a shadow. He doesn’t head to the kitchen like he does after you get back from a night out—no tea, no toast, no quiet ritual of making sure you’re okay. Instead, he walks straight into the study, his back to you. Yeah, he’s definitely mad. 

"You’re mad at me," you say, standing in the doorway.

He doesn’t answer. His hands grip the back of his chair, his head bowed like he’s trying to gather himself. You’re not one to push, usually giving him the space he needs when he gets all broody like this, but the alcohol that’s running through your system is making it hard to practice patience. 

"Why are you mad at me?"

Still nothing. 

When he finally moves, it’s only to brush past you, heading for the bedroom without so much as a glance. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow," he says, his tone flat, clipped. "I can’t talk to you when you’re like this."

This. The word hits like a slap, sharp and dismissive. It irks you. 

"If you didn’t want to come, then you shouldn’t have come," you mutter under your breath, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "I could’ve gotten a ride—"

"You were slurring on the phone." He stops in the hallway, turning just enough for you to see the tight set of his jaw. 

"Yeah, no shit, Spencer. People slur when they drink," you fire back a little too harshly, the alcohol fueling your irritation as you cross your arms defensively.

"Don’t," he warns, his voice low, dangerous in a way that makes your chest tighten.

​​You glare at him, heat rising in your cheeks. "Don’t what? Don’t point out how ridiculous you’re being right now?"

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at you again. He just shakes his head and walks into the bedroom. By the time you follow him, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answer to whatever’s boiling inside him. Fine. If he wants to ice you out, two can play that game.

You head to the bathroom without a word, your movements jerky as you swipe at the remnants of your makeup. You grab your moisturizer, fingers fumbling with the cap. A sharp tug and it goes flying out of your hands, clattering to the floor. 

"Fuck," you mutter, bracing yourself for a bout of instability as you bend down to retrieve it.

Before you can grab it, Spencer moves. He scoops it up, straightening with an ease that feels almost mocking. When you meet his eyes, they’re unfamiliar. It’s not the Spencer you know. Not the Spencer who covers your eyes during scary movies or kisses your forehead when you’re half-asleep. No, this Spencer feels distant, cold. 

"And I’m supposed to believe you’re not that drunk," he says flatly. Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat as heat flushes your face. He offers a hand as you steady yourself, trying to rise to your feet, but you brush him off, snatching the bottle from his grip with a bitterness you don’t try to mask. 

"What the hell is your problem?" you snap.

"My problem?" he repeats, incredulous. "I’m not the one blackout drunk on a Wednesday night."

"I’m not—"

"Would you—would you just stop!" he barks, the words sharp enough to make you flinch. "You’re slurring your words. You got the streets wrong. You couldn’t even get the damn moisturizer open," he snaps, gesturing toward you harshly with a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Your knuckles whiten as you cling to the edge of the sink, unsure if you’re holding on for balance or just to keep from breaking. You spin back toward the mirror willing yourself not to cry. The frustration, the confusion, the ache in your chest—everything wells up at once.

"God, you’re being so—"

"So what?" he interrupts, his voice rising as he steps closer. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to say it. "So concerned? So worried? So—"

"So fucking mean!"

The silence that follows deafening. For a moment, he freezes, the hard edges of his expression softening into something else—shock, regret, guilt—but it’s fleeting.

"So what if I’m drunk?" Your voice cracks as the words tumble out, your frustration too overwhelming to contain. "And yeah, maybe—" You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat as you glare at him, "Maybe I’m slurring a little but forgive me for wanting a drink after the final I’ve been stressing over all fucking month."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. "It’s not about you having a drink. It’s about you not knowing your limits—"

"Oh, for fucks sake," you interrupt, throwing your hands up. The movement makes you sway slightly, and you hate how it only seems to prove his point. "Newsflash, Spencer, I’m a university student. Sometimes we get drunk. You don’t get to make me feel like shit just because you don’t drink.”

You push past him, your shoulder grazing his as you move to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, and you grip the edge, willing the room to stop spinning.

"You were being reckless," he bites back, the word hanging heavy in the air. "You don’t see what I see. You’re out alone, you don’t—"

"I wasn’t alone," you say, your voice rising to meet his. "I had friends—"

"Yeah, friends who left you alone on a curb at 3am," he shoots back, cutting you off. The words land with precision, a calculated jab, but you refuse to flinch.

"Because you said you were on the way!" you fire back.

His voice is cold now, practically seething. "And what do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached you just as that guy was coming on to you?"

"He was asking for the bus!" you shoot back, the words ringing out louder than you intended. You hate everything about this fight. You hate how unfamiliar he feels, hate the part of you that wonders if you’re the one who brought this out of him. "Nothing would’ve—"

Spencer’s expression darkens, his gaze narrowing. "Nothing?" He scoffs. "Tell that to Nina Radha. To Caroline Wrenley. To Mindy Denver. They were all ‘just waiting for a ride home’ last week. And now? All abducted. All dead." 

The room goes silent. Your chest tightens, and the fight drains out of you as his meaning sinks in. 

"You’re being cruel," your words are barely audible, trembling on the edge of your lips. The tears come faster now, streaking your face, but you don’t bother wiping them away. "Why—" you whisper, weak and watery, "Why are you being like this?" 

When Spencer finally turns to look at you, the sight of your tears stops him cold. They streak your face in uneven paths, and he feels something inside him splinter. Spencer never likes seeing you cry—he hates it, actually. It’s not just discomfort or unease; it’s a literal, physical ache. But knowing he’s the reason for your tears tonight? That’s pain in its most visceral form. It’s failure in its purest state.

"I—" he starts, his voice faltering. It cracks mid-sentence, and he stops, swallowing hard. His breath shudders as he exhales, trying to find the words, but all that comes out is a quiet, broken, "I was scared." 

Your tears have momentarily slowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. The anger in his voice has faded, replaced by something softer, something raw—fear, tangled with guilt, with regret. He takes a tentative step closer, then hesitates, unsure of what to do. 

"I thought that… something could’ve happened to you, and I—I didn’t know how to handle it." 

After a moment, he lowers himself to your level, crouching in front of you. He lifts his hand, reaching out to wipe away the tears that stain your face. But the instant his fingers near you, you flinch, turning your head to avoid his touch. The movement is small, but Spencer’s heart shatters at the rejection all the same. He hates that he’s made you cry, hates that you won’t let him near you, hates that you won’t even look at him.

"I’m sorry," he says, the words low and weighted with sincerity. He knows it’s not enough, but it’s all he has left to give. 

Your tears fall, dripping onto your hands that rest limply in your lap. You shake your head, your shoulders tense, refusing to meet his eyes. The rejection stings, sharper than he expected, but he doesn’t blame you. He knows he deserves this. The room is still except for the sound of your quiet sniffles. 

Spencer tries again, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I just—" His breath catches as he exhales, his hand running through his hair in agitation, the movement more to calm himself than anything else. "When I saw you standing there alone—alone and with that man, I got scared. And I lashed out. I shouldn’t have. You didn’t— you didn’t deserve that."

The silence that follows is thick, but finally, you break it. Your voice is quiet, bitter. 

"I’m not them."

You’re still not meeting his eyes, still keeping that distance, but at least it’s something. 

"Those girls… I’m not them, Spencer."

"I know, I know. I was—", his voice is low, the regret weighing heavily on every syllable.

​​"That case was tough on you, I know it was," you interrupt, "And what happened to those girls, it was horrible. But I'm not them, Spence. I'm not…" Spencer watches helplessly as you furiously wipe away a tear from your cheek. 

"I'm not dead. I'm here."

“I was projecting, I—” His voice catches, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” he admits quietly. You nod, grimly. Another single, heavy tear slips down your cheek and Spencer feels his heart break all over again. 

"I know you’re scared. How do you think I feel every time you go out into the field?" You take a deep breath, and say bitterly, "I get it." 

Each word is a struggle, but you say it with conviction. He can see how much you’re holding in, the effort it takes for you to keep your voice from cracking. 

You pause, swallowing hard as you steady yourself, "But you—You don’t get to talk to me like that." When your eyes meet his, they flash with both anger and sadness. "You don’t get to take that out on me." 

"I know, I—That was—I was being horrible, I was an ass," Spencer admits, his voice small. "You didn’t deserve that, honey. God, I’m just—I’m so, so, sorry." 

You look at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he’s being sincere. All you see is regret, raw and heavy. And something else, something softer. Love. He reaches out, and this time you don’t pull away. Just getting to touch you is a brief, bittersweet, blinding relief. Spencer lets his fingers graze your cheek as he wipes away your tears gently, his thumb brushing over the wet path they’ve left behind. 

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. "An ass is putting it lightly." 

Spencer’s chest tightens, a small breath of relief escaping him, though it’s quickly replaced with guilt. "M’so sorry sweetheart," he breathes out, comforted by the familiar bite in your tone. It lightens the air between you, just a little.

He shifts to sit next to you on the bed. "I didn’t—I really didn’t mean to," he says quietly. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. Spencer gently takes your hands, cradling them in his. 

"I—I never want to hurt you, never want to make you cry. Ever." Spencer's voice cracks slightly as he talks, fingers tracing your palm. "You know that, right?"

You nod, your voice small but steady. "I know."

Shifting, you tuck your legs beneath you, turning to face him fully. Your hands lift to cup his face gently, your thumbs brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. The touch is tender, almost protective, as you guide his face to meet yours. His eyes can’t hold your gaze for long, shame clearly written across them.

"I was just—I was—" He stumbles over his words.

"Scared," you finish softly, filling the silence for him. 

"I—I’m sorry," Spencer’s voice falters, "I’m really sorry honey, I should’ve never—That was—"

Your hands guide his face back toward yours, coaxing him to meet your eyes. This time, he doesn’t resist, his breath shaky as he clings to the comfort you offer. "S’okay, baby. M’not mad anymore," you murmur.

"Sad?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like he’s afraid of what you’ll say.

"No," you smile faintly, shaking your head, "Not sad, baby," you whisper, leaning closer. Your thumb traces the curve of his cheek in silent reassurance. His shoulders relax just a little. "I just—" you sigh as you let out one last, quiet sniffle, "I really hate fighting." 

Carefully, he coaxes you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you. "Me too, honey," he says, his voice thick with emotion as he shifts closer. You don’t resist, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck, your breath warm against his skin.

"S’not nice," you murmur against him, your words muffled.

"I know, I know," Spencer whispers, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles along your back. You let out a shaky sigh, sinking further into his embrace. “Was awful, wasn’t it?” he says, quietly.

"Mhm," you mumble quietly, your voice soft but pointed as you lean into his touch. "Made me cry," you say, looking at him through wet lashes to prove your point. Spencer thinks, for a split second, that he’d rather die than ever have to see you cry like that again. After a beat of quiet, he tilts his head just enough to press a soft kiss to your temple. 

"I love you, you know that?" 

You hum softly, nuzzling your face into his neck with a contented sigh, "Love you too."

"Love you so much, sweet girl," he says again, quieter this time, like it’s a truth meant only for you.

"Sap," you tease, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile on your lips.

Spencer grins, soft and boyish. "Always for you," he mumbles fondly, and before you can respond, he leans forward, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of your nose.

You stick your tongue out at him in mock protest, but he’s already chasing the moment. A kiss lands on your cheek. Then another on the other side. Each one dripping with easy affection. 

"Spence—" you laugh, the sound bubbling up. It spreads a warmth through Spencer’s chest. 

"My sweet girl," he says quietly, almost to himself. 

His smile only grows as he drinks in the sound of your giggles, tears long gone. He presses a fluttering series of kisses across your form until you’re laughing into his lips, each kiss softer than the last. 

One on your cheek, two on your shoulder, a thousand on your lips.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: false god by taylor swift moon river by frank ocean

[lilacxquartz]

part 17 of 19 of kinktober: trapped

pyramid head x gn!reader

plot: while exploring the town, you find yourself incapacitated in the worst possible position — themes: warning for non con, dark smut, gender neutral reader, size difference, monster fucking, horror, gender neutral smut — w.c: 700ish

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

You were incapacitated.

Trapped in between the barely pried open iron bars, providing just big enough of a gap for your upper body to squeeze through and then… stall. In a way, it was humiliating, but in another sense, it was also terrifying because existing within the town as a whole was a death sentence in its own right. From one little miscalculation—you had potentially doomed yourself.

You tried to dislodge yourself again but the bars were too narrowly placed and you couldn’t push or pull yourself neither back nor forth and in doing so, you only found yourself more stuck than before. Panic quickly swept through your being in violent waves, abandoning all sense of rationality in favour of a hurried escape but nothing was working—but then finally, you heard it—the all too familiar scrape of metal, the thud of staggering footsteps—oh no, no, no… he was here.

You turned your head slightly back to just about catch a glimpse of him filling out the doorway, blocking all gaps of light that otherwise cut into the cell. In an attempt to avoid your flesh likely meeting the blade, you strove to push yourself forward, to at least nullify his efforts to strike you down… but then something else followed suit.

You froze as you felt his calloused hands brush around the soft contours of your exposed flesh; his fingers breaching the torn fabric and tearing away the cloth from the skin, readily exposing you to him. You remained statued in place as you feared for the worst, unable to quite comprehend what he was actually doing to you; almost delicately feeling you up—pushing—spreading your legs apart, ripping away at anything that acted as a barrier between you and him.

You tensed as you quickly understood what was following suit; feeling the tip of something very obvious poke against your most vulnerable parts. You writhed around and squirmed under his grip like a fish out of water, only to remain caught and hooked in his presence, feeling him drive into you in a near hungry pursuit. You gritted your teeth as you felt him force himself inside of you, feeling overwhelmed by his monstrous length that completely filled you out to the brim.

With shuddering, quaking cries, you softly wept as he continued to take in his brutal girth, feeling his cock slide in and out of your insides and stretch you out beyond a recoverable limit. With an unforgiving pace, Pyramid Head continued to hilt himself into your core, feverishly bucking into your body as a radiating, almost scalding pain akin to searing agony settled within the confines of your form. Of course however, he showed you no mercy, pounding into you with a near primal fervour; his hips slamming against your behind with each sawing motion.

Somehow, he grew needier as he continued to violate you—his fingernails digging bleeding crescents into the soft peaks of your ass, kneading against the cushioned skin and spreading you open as far as you could physically handle. It was as if he was trying to force you to accommodate the entire capacity of his impossible length, taking advantage of the limiting position, knowing that you couldn’t just pull yourself away.

Nearing his impending climax; his movements soon became more erratic and maybe even sloppy. He leaned his towering form closer wherever he could press against your bare back—causing the iron bars to crack open further—growling out heated breaths that rolled hot down your spine. Each passing thrust caused for you to shake, prompting you to involuntarily roll your eyes to the back of your head and perhaps even see stars from just how overwhelming it all truly was.

Just as you were about to pass out however, the monster finally came undone with one final violent rut of his stuttering hips. You gasped as you felt a stream of hot oozing warmth fill your senses to such an extent that your stomach nearly bulged from his pent up release.

Thinking it was all over, you tried to close your eyes to recover—but then you were promptly taken out of the cell, readily carried around like a rag doll, to be used and paraded around per each of his passing whims.

In a way you were thankful that he wasn’t going to end you outright.

But then you realised what your life was about to become and that much had otherwise terrified you.

Not quite a mercy after all and worse yet, rather a sentence in the hell you found yourself in.

[kaelio]

Hello everyone, I'm here today to engage in the absolutely thankless task of defending the hell out of this sentence getting commuted.

First things first:

I am not a prison abolitionist (this is important)

This former judge is one of the worst scumbags alive. Basically, he sent kids to juvie/prison in return for kickbacks.

So why did I want his sentence commuted? Oh, me? I didn't.

But this was part of a package of commutations requested by prison abolitionists. Yes, they asked for this, even spent hundreds of thousands on advertisements to demand it. Basically, Biden commuted the sentences of 1,500 people who were on "compassionate release", meaning they were already living at home. This is mostly just really old/sick people.

Biden didn't commute this guy's sentence as such, he commuted the sentences of a type of person out on compassionate release and didn't take the judge out of the pile. He didn't say, "except, not him".

This judge (scumbag) served 13 of his 16 years, but in 2020 was sent home because he was in such poor health it was assumed Covid would kill him. He's been at home ever since.

Now, this is important. This man cannot commit this offense again. He's not a judge any more! So recidivism is impossible. He cannot re-offend. So, in his case, prison can't be for rehabilitation or in any way to make sure he doesn't do it again. He can't! Never could have. The only real reason he was there was to punish him, which is fine. Personally, I'm fine with prisons being solely for punishment. But are you? Is that what you've been saying? Has that been your stance, that prisons are to punish people?

"But this guy was especially bad." Oh, so... mercy for people who didn't do really bad things? Then you're not getting any of these commutations. Because if you were in federal prison for long enough to qualify to be out on compassionate release, you did something really bad! Biden also pardoned everyone in federal prison for non-violent marijuana charges and you could count the number of people on your fingers because you don't actually get sent to federal prison over minor drug crimes.

Let's make it clear: "Mercy and leniency, but only for people who I define as innocent" means.... no mercy and no leniency. And you can be on board with that. You can be vengeful or a revanchist or bitter and brutal at heart; you're totally allowed. But then don't pretend you're not! In fact, that's the heart of Trumpism: there are those for whom laws should protect but not bind, and for others laws which should bind but not protect. (Or, as Óscar Benavides put it: "For my friends, everything; for my enemies, the law.") If your stance is just "good things for people I like and agree with, and bad things for those I don't" then you just have a different sense of who should be punished or die. But your thinking is fundamentally the same. Have you had a consistent stance about vigilante killing lately? Let me ask, who's allowed to decide among the populace who may live and who must die?

It's very unlikely anyone will ever again be as generous and compassionate as Biden has been with his powers. Because when he is, when he actually does it, when he's kind down to his very soul, you fucking hate it. That's what 2024 was; the revealed preferences election. You didn't want to pay people a living wage to deliver your burrito, you don't actually want people let out of jail, and you think capital punishment is fine as long as the executioner was hot.

[specialgradefckr]

Heatwave: Day 1

tw: explicit content, 5k+ words, reader/sukuna. female!reader, beta!reader, alpha!sukuna, true form!sukuna. oral (male/female receiving), PIV, size difference, sukuna has a knot, sukuna is lowkey a masochist, some anal (not the reader's ass).

Prompt: Betas serving as royal sex concubines without fear of pregnancy.

It wasn’t as bad as one might expect, being Ryomen Sukuna’s concubine.

Oh, he was terrifying, certainly. Death wasn’t uncommon in the household, though rarer than some might think.

Sukuna traveled often, sampling both the lands and the people within them, returning to the estate only when it pleased him to do so.

Everyone in the estate knew their master’s expectations and the consequences for not meeting them. Only the rare missteps resulted in punishments, though they were indeed brutal.

On some occasion, the lord’s aide would bring half-dead curses - or corpses of enemy sorcerers - to a separate building on the estate for some strange and nefarious purpose.

It made no difference to you. The estate was clean and well-maintained, the servants attentive, and the stocks never ran low.

You were living the perfect life.

No one denied you anything. You could summon merchants, make the odd trip into town, and entertain yourself however you wished, provided you fulfilled your responsibilities as a concubine.

You were a nobody before you came to the estate.

You’re still a nobody, but everyone here is a nobody in Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes.

Your lifespans are determined by how useful you were to him at any given moment.

And he had an unexpected use for a common whore like you.

It was probably more surprising that you were a beta, and not an omega – infinitely more desirable for an alpha like the lord, one would assume.

You’d never presumed to pry before, but it’s easy to speculate, after having known him long enough.

He’s a powerful man, utterly indifferent to societal standards or norms. His desire and satisfaction were above all other things, just as he was above everyone weaker than him. And everyone was weaker than him.

It was hard to imagine him at the mercy of an omega’s potent pheromones, longing for the comfort of his partner’s nest, pining for the love of his mate, or driven madly to lust by the scent of a rut.

Or perhaps he indulged plenty, but so much fervor could only end in bloodlust on his part. Any omega summoned to his chambers to serve his pleasure never returned.

You do fare luckier in that respect. He may not have been gentle lover, but as long as you’d served him he’d left you with no more than bruises and bite marks.

And he could hurt you, destroy you, utterly disfigure you in permanent and terrifying ways… with just a casual glancing blow.

Sukuna is present on this night, though, and it appears he’s summoned you.

His aide, Uruame, is far closer to him than any of his concubines, and by now you know the sound of their footsteps slowing as they near your door.

They smile at you as you open the door for them, bowing before your eyes meet theirs.

Uruame is not fond of any of their lord’s concubines, as a rule. Being a beta themselves, it’s unlikely they understand Sukuna’s needs as an alpha any better than you do.

But what they can understand is that you respect their lord immensely. A sorcerer yourself, you know enough to appreciate the scale of his power, and you had never made any secret of your admiration.

Unlike many other concubines brought in, you had very little arrogance to show for your beauty and bedroom skills. Uruame probably does appreciate that.

You’re a beta from a brothel, so you have no delusions of self-importance, but Sukuna, and by extension Uruame, couldn’t care less where you came from.

You know their purpose as soon as they arrive; they don’t need to engage in any inane conversation or instructions.

As soon as Sukuna had returned, you’d readied and dressed yourself in case he were to summon you. It happens more often than not whenever he’s back at the estate.

You suspect you’re the only one he summons during his rut.

His omega concubines are… single-use. Your fellow betas are few in number, and he’s no more forgiving with his concubines than he is his other servants.

You follow Uraume to his room. You can’t tell if he’s in a rut or not, but your suspicion is confirmed as Uruame gives a short nod, then strides off.

Sukuna doesn’t like being seen during his rut. Many have learned the hard way.

“Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation?” His voice is as gruff as ever. Low, heady, a delicious groan that sends shivers down your form.

He didn’t ask to be answered, of course. The only appropriate response to Sukuna’s question is action.

Quickly you slide the door open and shut it behind yourself as you fall into a low bow. You don’t meet his eyes without permission.

“Get up.” Your cue to sit up, to not bother with any further formalities. His rut must be well underway. “Come over already.”

You don’t waste any more time. He sounds impatient, and he probably is, but any less deference could see your head separated from your body. It’s especially important not to touch him first, to let him touch you.

Sukuna loathes being touched without permission.

It’s not something you have to worry about, though. As soon as you’re within reach, one of his hands bears down onto your shoulder; to him, it’s as good as an explicit instruction.

You never subject Sukuna to the indignity of having to voice his desires.

Perhaps that’s why he likes you so – there’s a flash of something pure alpha, an intense delight in his eyes as you kneel and attend to him in prefect obedience and submission.

Falling to your knees at his feet, wasting not even a second, you work to free his painful erection from the confines of his clothes.

Practiced hands accomplish it easily, and you’re rewarded with a large hand that strokes through your hair, brushing it back out of your face and holding it there.

His erection springs forward, as impatient as he is. His knot is already swollen up.

It’s red and flushed, pink to match his hair, heavy and thick like all the rest of his limbs.

Even an omega would blanch at taking such a monster. You are well-trained.

It’s enough just to lick at it, some cursory strokes to wet the shaft with his precum, to touch your lips to his heated flesh. Searing, really.

Wide, open-mouthed kisses dragged along him until his cock is coated well enough with spit and his own pre.

Without any further hesitation you open your mouth wide and take him all the way down to the knot, lips thinning where his cock swells and throbs.

The head is already lodged in your throat, and you swallow as you take it down, pressing your lips in. A moan tells you he’s already growing sensitive.

It wouldn’t feel very good for him to knot in your throat – he’s never bothered with it before – but there’s always a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

Sukuna doesn’t want to knot your throat, but it pleases him to think that he could. That you are willing and ready to take it, if he wished.

“Good little beta." The mouth on his abdomen seems to grin at you, wide and dripping saliva.

A fire ignites in your belly at the praise, face heating up, your own mouth opening wide.

No matter what you are, Sukuna is an alpha through and through, and the desire to please surges as his hand presses you forward.

As a concubine or a common harlot, you’d always been good at your job.

Sorcery had delivered you from the streets and into Sukuna’s estate, and diligence, determination, had kept you alive throughout it all.

Others died around you. Weak. You would do whatever it took to survive, however ugly it may be.

Taking cock down your throat isn’t even close to the most degrading thing you’ve done, and at least there’s only one man now for you to serve.

He’s not even a bad lay. Either a suppressed instinct to please his mate as an alpha or some fortuitous chemistry has always ensured he brings you to release whenever you fuck.

The unmarred half of his face is undeniably handsome, and after all you’d seen, you’re utterly indifferent to the deformity. It’s just there. A part of him like any other – the other arms, the other mouth.

You’re sure you yourself have flaws in his eyes, but if he truly did not want you, you’d never have been allowed in his chambers to begin with. Sukuna is a man with absolutely no interest in pretenses. He takes what he wants, when he wants it, always.

Sometimes, you think that you and Sukuna aren’t all that different after all.

An alpha who was malformed, cast out by society, recognized only in disgust or fear.

And you, sold by a father eager to make any money he could off a pretty beta daughter.

You were unfit to be an alpha’s bride, but perfectly suited to be every alpha’s whore.

If you wanted happiness, you had to seize it, even if it meant choking the life out of someone else.

Both of you were worth only as much as you could curse others. Sukuna’s worth is greater than yours, but in his shadow everyone is equally worthless, and in his gaze – at least for this moment – you are worthy of him.

The fingers in your hair tighten; a hiss, “Take it!” and you suckle diligently as you bob backwards, diving forward straight away to take him to the root again.

Inhuman though he may be, his cock is much the same as any other alpha’s, if a bit larger.

Hot, smooth skin, veins that pulse and bulge inside your mouth. A salty taste you’d grown accustomed to, a stretch in your mouth and your jaw that you ameliorated by focusing on hollowing your cheeks, dragging your tongue along it.

Betas can’t purr, not like omegas or alphas can, but you approximate it with a hum, a gentle sigh through your nose and fluttering, lowered lashes.

A low exhalation. Controlled. “There she is…” The hand in your hair goes to stroke possessively over your cheek. “My little beta. All for me.”

His eyes dilate in lust – you always meet his gaze while you do this, for as long as you’re able, you know he likes this – and you know before you feel the touch of his hand on your jaw to begin drawing back.

His hand barely ghosts you before you move, leaving trails of saliva strung between your lips and his shining cock while you gaze up at him.

Another theatric he enjoys. His tongue darts out from his lips, grasping and stroking himself, hand coated in a sweet-smelling oil you recognize.

His other arms reach to grasp you by the shoulder, pulling you up to stand and burying your face in his neck wordlessly.

They wrap around you, pulling you into him as he steps back to sit on the bed where you follow.

It surprises you every time, just how much your body comes alive at his touch.

Heart racing as if it can jump through your skin and into the hands that trace your throat, your collarbone, down your chest, dragging the slip of a robe you’d worn down with it.

Sukuna likes undressing you, alpha that he is.

Like you’re a sacred treasure to be unveiled only by his hands. You always wear something easy to take off, and nothing else.

His touch is your leave to respond in kind; he’s fully bared, now, all tattooed skin and corded muscle.

A warrior’s form, conveying power and strength in every divot and valley. Your heart races as you lay your hands on him.

Maybe it’s the thrill of it.

Sukuna is utterly untouchable. The greatest sorcerers of your time had died failing to scratch the smooth, unbroken skin he offers to you so freely.

As a concubine, you don’t get much contact. Less still, since no one would dare lay a hand on a consort Sukuna summons so often to his side.

Normally that suited you just fine, but sometimes with him you feel like a dog straining on a leash.

Desperate for him to reach out, to feel him on you. Lust and adrenaline coursing through you the instant he makes contact.

Even as a beta, this close, it’s impossible not to smell him; he’s pulled you to his throat on instinct.

His scent glands are right there, and you don’t hesitate to lick at them, letting your breath ghost over the hot, spit-slicked skin. Dragging your teeth along the swollen flesh.

That’s one of the things he likes best. He knows you’re a beta. You have no fangs, you couldn’t mark him if you wanted to. Not with anything but curses.

But still, it is a pleasure. The salt on your tongue, the flesh that yields beneath your teeth, even without breaking, as the alpha’s aroma fills your senses.

Sukuna is spiced; harsh, in some ways, like cinnamon, but warm like a pleasant woodsmoke, like the heat of oil burning in a lamp. Just this side of decadent – opulent, almost, and still primal and raw.

It doesn’t affect you like you imagine it would an alpha or omega. But it’s nice. He smells nice.

You don’t hesitate to nip at his lips when he presses them to yours.

Perhaps one of the reasons Sukuna hates being touched without permission is because he also doesn’t care to be touched gently.

If he weren’t in rut, you would have dragged your teeth over his cock while it was in your mouth, but he’s not able to savor such services in his current state.

They’re red, so red, all his four eyes staring into you. Burning in want. In want of you.

“Fierce little thing.” You can taste his grin, you’re close enough. “See how fierce you’ll be when you’re full of me. My beta. Mine.”

“Yours,” You agree breathily, and lean back in to catch his mouth with your own.

His lips are one place you’re able to make him bleed, dragging the bottom lip beneath your teeth and pinching it, then darting your tongue in to taste.

Sukuna hums at the taste of metal in his mouth, sucks your tongue between his lips to press and purse and suckle on at his leisure. Brilliant red eyes half-lidded in lust.

Your hands get to work, one of them cupping his jaw and then his hair, brushing it back in a way that makes him preen now that he’s in rut and can’t suppress it.

Alphas love getting petted, and Sukuna loves the scrape of fingernails over his scalp, a tight tug against his hair; it all sends his knot pulsing against you.

“Here. Your mouth had a taste, let’s see how your cunt likes it.” His arms lift you up just enough to sit over his well-muscled legs.

Your thighs spread while his cock falls forward, between your thighs.

Sukuna holds you there, just far enough, letting it rub against you with little tugs to your hips. Desire sparking like flint where his length rubs against you. Fuck.

Oh, you want him. Ache for him. It pulls low in your core, to lean into him, to feel his arms holding you in place, to feel him all against you.

You wrap your arms around him in return, clawing at his shoulders as the mouth on his stomach tongues between your legs. It’s exquisite and agonizing all at once. Slick and dragging against you, heavy and broad.

He’s already purring at the taste of you. Hands clenching in desire over the roundness of your hip.

You want him. You want him.

You can have him, take him, touch, touch, touch. Dig your teeth into the firm muscle against his neck to feel his purr grow louder under your teeth.

Your curse technique flickers at your fingertips, dancing over the open canvas of his back.

Inhaling sharply, you think you hear him swear, and then, “Yes.” He laughs breathily, “More. Put more into it. That can’t be all you’ve got.”

It isn’t. The sound of him is everywhere now, vibrations that shake you all the way to your core.

The mouth on his belly still laps at your folds. It drools on your folds like you’re a meal he cannot wait to savor.

Sukuna is already running hot. It’s too easy when he’s like this, all heated, blood pumping heavy through every part of him.

Just beneath the surface you feel it; searing, boiling, heat jumping up to meet your touch. Like liquid fire underneath his skin, you’d heard it described. Exhilarating, Sukuna had called it.

A talent half-learned by accident in the steamy, lurid, filthy recesses of the brothel you’d worked at. A dark place filled with malice and jealousy, reeking of curses in every corner. One day you’d awoken with a strength that sung in your veins, screamed to be used.

You had learned to vanquish shadows with a flick of your wrist, the creatures bursting from the inside.

Once, on a lark, you’d tried it on a client who struggled to maintain his hardness. It had been remarkably effective, pooling blood in his cock, and with a little work you were able to reproduce it in other ways.

It had all been success from there. Climbing the ranks, scoring pleasure into the flesh of those who paid you well enough.

Oh, it was painful, too, but what pleasure in life came without a little pain? If you wanted something, you had to be willing to sacrifice for it.

A founding principle of jujutsu. It’s no wonder Sukuna so delights in battle, either against sorcerers or in his own bed; when you heat his blood in his veins it sends his knot pulsing, throbbing, twitching in excitement as pre drips out.

With him holding you so close you can feel his purring throughout your whole body.

A rare pleasure, a prize you win with vicious effort, cursed energy surging in your hands as you rake your nails over the glorious, muscled expanse of his back.

“Open,” Sukuna commands.

It’s a tone that never fails that make you tremble in anticipation. Your cunt is already dripping with it.

The part of your legs widen, and you lean back to look down at where he’s settled against you.

He’s so large. Always so large. The knot swelling already.

You’re clenching already, quivering, like you’re the one in heat and not he in his rut.

God, you want him to fuck you already.

One massive hand reaches down, stroking over his cock, wet with your saliva, his precum, and the oil substitute for an omega’s slick.

It nudges at your cunt and you let out a short whimper that sends him snarling, thick fingers digging sweet bruises into your hips.

“Always so sweet for me,” His lips ghost over your temple as he stares down, “Delectable. Strong little thing, you can take it.”

The head of his cock slots against your entrance. Fuck, it’s hot, burning, searing, you’re so fucking ready, your cunt is weeping and you feel like keening for it, “Please. Alpha, please.”

You can almost see it in his eyes, red and feral with need. Omega, my omega, my mate – all the things you’ve heard from alphas before.

Clingy, possessive, biting at you, rutting into you like they can breed you. All the filthy things whose beds you’d warmed in the past.

They all pale in comparison to the King of Curses. Hot and throbbing and silken against your entrance, the deep grunt of effort that you feel when he lines himself up and drives himself in.

The very sensation knocks the wind out of you.

Sukuna slides in easily but it’s tight, so tight, always. You feel him feel it, too, all those muscles growing taut before you as he sinks into you.

Your arms tremble before they remember what to do; grasping carelessly at his shoulders, clawing for purchase as the whines claw their way up your throat. They’re shoved back down by the deep moan you make when he reaches the end of your passage.

“F-fuck,” it’s good, it’s so good, it hurts so good and there’s nothing you can do but sit there and take it. Just as he told you to.

It’s always a bit painful, but there’s a pleasure in it, too, the piercing delight of being so thoroughly fucked into. You swear you feel yourself dripping out where he enters you, and you moan again at the feeling of him dragging himself out.

A low noise, a chuckle; like every sound Sukuna makes, you feel it just as much as you hear it.

“Do it again.” He demands, and you would never make the alpha wait.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He pushes into you again and your moans crack, because he slides through easier this time but it’s just so big, so fucking huge you feel your walls trying to flex, envelop him, desperate to find any give at all, but there’s just no give.

It’s like having solid steel lodged inside you, burning hot and smooth against your core.

“Good beta.” Sukuna effortlessly lifts you up by the hips, dragging you off his cock and savoring how you whine at its loss, “My good little beta. Squeezing me so tight.”

He drops you down, down, back onto him. Cock thrusting up into you, cleaving your cunt apart, hitting a spot that makes you wail. Sukuna laughs, and you can feel his cock twitching.

“Need my cock, do you, little beta?” The rut is at its height now, pulling him in, smearing possession all over his face, his evil grin. “Even if it breaks you apart?”

All you can do is nod while you pant. He pulls you up and down by the waist, fucking you on his cock like a tool for his pleasure –

And Sukuna has never failed to use a tool to its fullest extent. “Fuck, fuck – fuck, alpha, please – please, please – ”

His own laughter is broken up by heavy breaths. One of his huge hands grasps you by the scruff of your neck, and you try to go obediently limp but your whole body jerks with the unrestrained force of his fucking into you.

Tight and unforgiving, baring your throat for him to dive into. An alpha in the midst of his rut. His teeth graze over your neck, licking where scent glands would normally be.

“Please,” Your breath catches in your throat at Sukuna’s kiss, all teeth and feral smiles pressed into your skin.

He stays like that for a moment, knot pulsing desperately just outside of your cunt.

Grinding into you like he thinks he can fit it in – you both know it can’t, you simply don’t have the anatomical space of an omega. But it feels good.

So good. It rubs, hot and throbbing against your clit, and fuck if you don’t nearly cum from it right there, tightness in your core heavy and ready to burst.

“Sukuna,” You say his name in a broken moan.

Teeth in your jugular. Hot tongue over your throat.

Hands gripping your sides. Moving you up and down like a puppet.

Cock pressing and pressing into you, relentless. Pleasure lapping at your insides as his cock rocks into you, begging to be let in.

A thumb on your clit, rubbing circles. “Cum, beta. Cum for your alpha – hngh – cum now – ”

Pleasure bursts through you, as if brought to life by his words. White hot and overflowing, every part of your body floating on air.

It’s like you’re a feather in his hands. Airy lightness fills you and even the stretch between your legs feels pleasant, a welcome intrusion, cunt blissfully numb.

Sukuna fucks you through it all the while, breathless, determined, on the brink himself as he chases the friction of you squeezing the life out of him.

You twitch in his grasp, aftershocks trembling through. He holds you upright easily, letting your head fall forward while he drags you up and down, mindlessly brushing his burning knot against your entrance.

It’s several moments before you catch yourself; it makes no difference to Sukuna. Your climax brought him closer, but not there, not just yet.

It’s with the giddy sort of warmth your afterglow brings that you lazily grope the space next to the bed.

You find the vial of oil he’d used earlier, and easily unscrew the top and spread it across your fingers with a single hand.

Sukuna had stared a moment the first time he saw you do that. So you have a sorcerer’s dexterity after all, he’d said, and it was the compliment you’d treasured most to date.

This time, his eyes don’t leave your body. All four of them, red and fiery and burning into you. Your chest. Your face.

They linger where your bodies are joined, at the stretch of your cunt taking him, the hole that has no more to give him but squeezes him anyways.

You can tell by his ragged breaths he needs more stimulation, heavy in rut and knotted tight as he is. That’s fine. You’ve done this before.

Slicked fingers find his waist, and then lower, to his ass. He parts his knees further, as if for more leverage to thrust fruitlessly against you, and you take the opportunity to squeeze one well-muscled cheek with your dripping hand.

The sharp inhale – you’re sure he’d hate to hear it called a gasp – “Beta!” –  tells you you’re free to go ahead.

So you do, digging your fingertips into his ass, into a hole too well-oiled to not have been prepared beforehand.

A rumble swells, in his chest, his throat, pressing hard against you along with his cock, nudging his knot further against your entrance.

You tease along the rim and then drive into it. He hisses as it burns, knot throbbing against you, massive hands squeezing bruises and then caressing them as soon as they bloom.  

It’s delicious, the way it clenches at your fingertips, tight and furled up, but you slip in easily with his preparation and your oiled fingers.

Darting into the yielding warmth of his insides, a pleasure that has him seizing against you, all muscle and magnificent form trained on your touch.

Your cunt clenches at the thought, the power you have in this moment; it squeezes the cock spearing you and sends tremors through his form.

“Clever girl,” He rumbles as you drag along his insides, “Clever fingers,” another heavy thrust, fingers twitching, “More,” thrust, shudder, “More!”

With a heated urgency your fingers curl, feeling, pressing around in a way that has Sukuna panting, teething at your shoulder, kneading hands against your hips while you search for just the right spot.

His knot presses insistently against your entrance, where there’s no space for you to receive it, but it catches on your oversensitive clit enough to make you gasp and whine.

Sukuna grins, mouth wide open, drooling like the feral, satisfied monster he was.

“Beta…” he hums, and it feels like he’s saying your name, as close to a loving coo as a creature like him can make.

And then, then, you find it, as you have so many times before. A high, keening noise Sukuna would be otherwise unwilling to part with, drawn out from him in the height of his rut.

You press into a bundle of flesh through his insides. A spot that sends him rutting wildly against you, unconcerned with his knot or anything besides fucking and feeling more of that pressure into him.

It’s almost all you can do to keep it coming, your other arm flailing desperately to reach around him for any kind of purchase while he thrusts your mind away.

Pleasure finds you again but this is liquid flames instead of white hot.

It pours out from you, spilling everywhere, the feeling of his release spurting inside you.

Full, full, fuller, so full you swear you’re bursting, it feels so fucking good. Flowing out over his cock, against your cunt, where his hurried thrusts squeezes it into a lewd, sopping met against your clit.

This one brings tears to your eyes. The sound of it, wet and squelching, utterly lewd, like you can feel the tremors of pleasure that have you milking him for cum that cannot impregnate you.

His hands are all that ground you, points on your body where his touch had ceased to be painful, to be anything but a feeling of him against you, the warm and powerful alpha who’d taken you to his bed, monster or not.

Sukuna groans and pants his heart out, still fucking into you while your eyes are glassy and all movement has left your body.

Your clever little hand fallen to the side as its purpose was fulfilled, his knot finally unraveling into the delicious joy of breeding you.

Ahh. He can admit the look in his eyes when he looks at you is fondness, to some degree. His perfect little beta. Wicked fingers and the smartest mouth he’d ever seen. Always so good for him.

He lays himself down alongside you on the bed, still buried deep in you, cum leaking slowly away.

The mess never bothered him, not in the torrid, heated moments of bodies entwined. He’d bathe with you later.

So warm. Always warm and welcoming him, your cunt is the most exquisite hole he’s ever known, but it’s the rest of you that makes it worth his time. Every time.

There’s something about it that sends a frenzy through him.

A hurried urge, like a desire to run or jump or lash out, but instead it makes him want to wrap his entire self around you and laugh in wicked delight.

It feels like fire on the battlefield, blood on his tongue, power coursing through every pore, seas ready to part at his command. It feels like strength, but he’s not even holding you very tightly.

He takes a deep breath, face pressed to your hair; beta. A faint, pure, neutral scent, so unmistakable in its cause. It elicits no particular reaction, stirs no great curiosity or lust.

But you do. It’s easy, natural, to wrap all four arms around you and squeeze. Your perfect figure yielding in his grasp, compressing beneath him, legs folding as he swings one over yours.

A purr rumbles deep in his chest as the sensation envelops him.

Touching, holding, entwined. You, completely full of him, made docile with his cum and his knot, surrendering to his embrace. All his. All for him.

Your boneless, weak figure in his arms, the little sigh of bliss you let out… it’s a feeling that’s only come to him in the midst of battle, curses coursing, glorious, in every direction.

A thrill of triumph that enervates, lightens every one of his limbs and sets him with a feeling of utter satisfaction.

Sukuna is purring in earnest now, and he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed by it.

Why suppress his instincts for the beta that so perfectly warms his bed? Why restrain himself in any way, when you’re wholly incapable of binding him, of bearing pups or marking him, and serve him with such delectable vigor?

An arm, so much smaller than his, slowly slips itself over his waist. You’re barely conscious, pretty face all flushed from your climax, unable to even open your eyes.

But your head drifts towards his chest even while asleep, where the vibrations are the strongest. Tucked under his neck, nestled in him and his scent.

An alpha’s purr is usually a sign of contentment, but it’s supposed to be soothing to omegas. As far as he knows, it doesn’t have any particular effect on betas.

Sukuna supposes it’s probably just you.

It’s so easy to reduce you to want, to unrestrained lust, pure and devoted entirely to him. Why should he need an omega when he has this at his beck and call?

You can’t be bred, of course – that was the whole point of using a beta. But sometimes he does wonder.

What you would look like if you were with child. Breasts heavy with milk, the mild scent of a beta humming with the life nurtured within.

You’re strong. You’d produce fine offspring. Your curse technique is interesting in its own right – igniting a person’s own cursed energy from beneath their skin. Not remarkable in effectiveness, but wholly unique in its operation.

Would it stop his ruts, to see you pregnant for some time? You’re the only one he spends them with, so seeing you pregnant might just delay them, without the influence of an omega’s hormones. 

Would he grow more aggressive as you neared delivery? Would his instincts command him to slay your spawn so he could fill you with his own?

Uruame is a beta, and has the necessary parts. He could breed you without all the tiresome mechanics of a bond between alpha and omega; place his two favorite subjects together and watch as his loyal subject bred his most treasured concubine for him. 

Watching you take in the seed of someone other than him… but Uruame is a beta, and belongs to him as much as you do. If he scented them as well, perhaps? They always had very little scent of their own.

Heat stirs within him at the thought. It’s too early to tell if it’s anger at the idea or arousal, especially in the state he’s in.

You make a little noise, and all four eyes shoot down to look over your form, all sweat and heat and dripping cum.

He shifts to move some of his weight off of you, sliding onto his back and settling your head on his chest so you can drift to sleep to the sound of his purring.

After all, his rut is just beginning. Sukuna can spare you some rest…

For an hour or so.

[stvolanis]

the situation you were in now made you contemplate your previous choices. your face was pushed harshly into Rafe Cameron’s silk sheets in his dimly lit room, back positioned into an almost painful arch. The money you’d stolen from him, roughly in the mediocre thousands, you thought he wouldn’t notice was missing. Rafe swam on money, so surely, he wouldn’t notice if just a little bit was missing, right? Wrong!

his cock slammed into you at a brutal pace, relentlessly hitting that one, spongey spot inside of you that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and desperate pleas slip past your drool covered lips. You spent all the money you had stolen from the man fucking you into oblivion, and this was the only way you could pay him back.

“Takin’ this dick like a real pogue, huh?” He chuckled in your ear tauntingly as his hand balled into a fist in your hair, further pushing your face into his sheets. He was rough with you, sparing no mercy as his hand came down to slap your ass as it bounced against him with every thrust. “R-Rafe, please! M’sorry, god, oh my god—” you cried out. You felt powerless as he held your arms behind your back with one hand.

“She’s just sucking me in, fuckkk..” he groaned, throwing his head back. “Gonna cum in this pussy, yeah? That’s what you want? Say it, baby.” He urged in a sickeningly sweet tone, almost mocking. Your legs were shaking and your cunt was dripping with your slick, the sound of your juices heard with each thrust. “Cum in my pussy, Rafe—please—need it.” You whimpered out desperately, your words slurring together.

“Good fuckin’ girl. Knew you pogues had manners.”

Working on making a new master list where you can find all my work! Sorry for the inconvenience<3

TAG LIST: @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @luxuriouslokistan-3 @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @peterpan-neverfails-blog @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @theoraeken @scintilla-morningstar @liv-n @armandosbabymama @axailslink @cosmixstar

[crepezinhos]

Mummy or Mommy?

POV: What happens when you take the quote: ‘Halloween is the only day a woman can dress up like a whore and not get criticized for it’ too seriously to a point where your own best friend can’t handle it?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Bondage, blindfolding, hair pulling, slight mommy kink and a lot of degradation.

“What the fuck were you thinking, huh?” He grunted in your ear while brutally fucking his cock inside your pussy over and over again. “Dressing up like some fucking cheap slut… You were looking up to this, weren’t you?” His passion while degrading you was noticeable, which just made your horny pussy grind around him even more.

You wanted to innovate this year’s Halloween party, but not this much.

Your costume was simply thick white stripes tied around the core parts of your body, leaving your legs and belly mostly exposed although it was a considerably cold day. It obviously called most people’s attention, including your friends. All the girls thought you looked sexy and praised your efforts with the makeup, but Scaramouche, one of your few male friends, but your best friend, didn’t actually say much.

He spent the whole party quietly staring at your body up and down, avoiding any comments, even when you asked for his opinion. You two only found yourselves fucking in the house's bathroom when you were alone with him in a sofa and you asked why did he have a pillow in his lap. It turned out he had a boner... an aching one.

“Ass up, mummy whore.” Scaramouche slapped a buttock of yours, causing your whole body to quiver.

Although Scaramouche has never shown off himself to be a common guy, you'd never expect him to be so aggressively kinky. He had pulled the bandages you had in your face up to blindfold your eyes and the ones in your arms to tie your wrists in the towel hanger of the room. He also almost ripped apart the ones in your boobs and crotch just because he was that desperate to see them. It was definitely humilliating and it would take you a while to redo all of that work, but you couldn't deny that being manhandled like that was making your pussy throb in pleasure. Scaramouche was incredibly good at .

“Fuck, Scara! Slow down!” You tried turning your face to him to beg for mercy, but that pathetic look of your blindfolded face and ruined makeup just made his cock twitch in arousal.

“Oh-ho? Begging already? But I have barely started yet...” He mocked you, continuing to hammer you in the same pace. “But maybe if you admit that you’re a cock-hungry slut, I might change my mind.” He proposed a game to you, leaning closer just to tease you further into that mind-numbing pleasure.

“F-Fuck! I am a cock-hungry slut who whore this outfit to have your attention!” You screamed whatever came to your mind at the moment to make him feel satisfied. “Y-You look so fine dressed as a vampire, I couldn’t just ignore it..! It got me so wet when I saw it…” You babbled between your outrageous moans.

“My costume, huh? I bet you’re loving to have your wrists tied up by my jacket then…” If he knew that you’d be such a perfect slut for him and his necessity to fuck rough, he would’ve done it centuries ago.

“Y-Yes! I love it! I love being dominated by you like this!” You suddenly felt your hair being pulled in his direction, which caused you to scream in shock and slight pain while your body spasmed and your eyes mired stars.

“Then, right after this, I want you to wear it for the rest of this party. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in this outfit, you hear me? No one. From now on this outfit belongs to me.” He whispered in a more dominant tone that took you off guard.

Scaramouche was melting your brains and muscles, causing them to be useless to you, especially now that you were cuffed and arched to him. All you could do in such position was to nod to his orders and moan, and you were shamelessly letting every single one of them out of your mouth, which made Scaramouche’s ego skyrocket. Having his hot best friend inflating his ego by acting and dressing like some cheap, submissive slut was ecstasy to him. It even made him feel a little emotional than he expected to feel since you were a nice and t(h)rustable friend.

Perhaps he likes you more than a friend? Or was starting to like? That’s something he still has to reflect about later because all he wanted was to milk your pussy dey right now.

“Such a fucking perfect slut… Who would’ve guessed that you’re a hidden masochist whore under that pretty face of yours?” He let go of your hair just to hold your hips with more precision, but still kept his back leaned close to you so he could put his tongue to use.

He started in the side of your neck, kissing it and licking it already aggressively. He was focusing specifically on the muscle of it that was slightly stretched out because of the position you were in.

“You taste so fucking good…” He purred while his warm breath made your skin sweaty. “I might just suck you until you’re bleeding…” He laughed at his own pun, but immediately went back to his mission of fucking you until you regretted your choice of costume.

But you had just acted so mean to him this entire party when he was supposed to be the mean one in the group, he had to scold you back to your submissive place.

The way you walked up to him when you two first met and immediately spoiled him that you weren’t wearing any underwear was enough to make him fantasize with his hands ripping your costume apart to see your nudity under it. There was also the way how the lack of bra usage made your boobs jiggle with every movement you did, especially when you were dancing, which made his eyes completely stone in them for most of the party. Of course it got him hard and quickly. But the way you laughed at him when you found out he had a boner was what triggered him into scolding you in his own peculiar way.

“Tch…” He got a little annoyed remembering those moments. “You were so proud of yourself some minutes ago… mocking me and laughing at my boner… But look at you know… getting off with me referring to you as a cheap slut… It’s pathetic, really, but I’m proud to be the one that will teach you about knowing your place…” He ranted while admiring every single moan that came out of your red lips, who had some chapstick dragged outside of them because of the sloppy kisses you shared while he prepared you for his cock.

He took a look to the side where the mirror was located.

God, he thought he looked so sexy with those marks of your chapstick kissing him in various spots of his face and neck… it all just made him more praised by you. And the way your crotches moved in rhythm made him feel like he was watching his own personal porn movie.

“Oh? Suddenly getting extra tight here?” He grunted huskily while he felt your pussy suddenly tightening around him again with no warning. It was like it was trying to milk an orgasm out of him desperately.

“G-Gonna cum!” Your voice was already becoming hoarse in exhaustion, which made Scaramouche just more thirsty with what he was doing to you.

“Perfect, because I’m cumming too and you’re gonna take it all inside, ok?” His pace managed to become even more erratic, punching your cervix with no care at all while his hand ran under your belly and started circling your clit violently just to make you more helpless under those cuffs.

“Yes, yes! I’m gonna..! I’m gonna!!” You were desperate for your climax, screaming like you were going to die.

“Come on, whore.” Scaramouche slapped your ass again, trying to stimulate you into climax the fastest he could with that jolt of pain.

And finally, both your bodies had that moment of peak together. Scaramouche sliding a thick and long string of cum inside your womb, and you exploding cum all around his cock. Your scream was feral and his grunt was very powerful, both of your bodies shaking and twitching with that peak, enjoying every noise you heard from each other.

“F-Fuck!” Your body quivered while he spilled his burning seed inside you, demonstrating how overwhelmed you were feeling. But no matter how much your body agonized, he still kept his hips stoned in place, looking forward to brand you as his with that load of cum.

“Good girl… taking all of me inside even if it is too much for you like a true-spirit whore…” He giggled meaningfully while gently tapping the same buttock he slapped previously, watching you twitching in a sadistic kind of joy.

He quickly pulled out, wanting to check just how much you came around him. His cock was entirely wet and full of stains of your essence.

“Look at this mess you did in me… Oh, you’re absolutely cleaning this up.” He reached a hand to his jacket and pulled it away from the hanger, making your body finally become free again. Since your legs were extremely weakened by sex, all they could do was crumble and kneel down in the floor, your face resting against the cold white wall.

But your moment of break didn’t last as much as you needed it to. Scaramouche was determined to make your ruined face suck, still blindfolded. That’s why your hair was suddenly fisted by his hand and forced to turn around.

“Say ‘ahh’…” He rested his cock on top of your lips, aching to make its way inside your mouth. His hands also moved to your fringe, pushing it all the way to the back of your head until he could clearly glare all of your face breathing in and out exhausted.

“Ahhh…” You obliged to his orders and stuck your tongue out, which impulsed him to immediately place his cock on top of it, pulsing to feel your warm tongue licking it like it was your source of water.

You, thankfully, obliged to that too and started licking him up and down, all around his length, since you couldn’t see where he was stained. You looked so destroyed licking cum like a kitten, but that made you look so beautiful to his hungry eyes. He deadly wished he could spend more time messing with you, but the constant knocks on the door to go inside the bathroom were annoying him to a point he wanted to kill whoever was doing that.

“A-Are you clean now..?” You asked while pulling yourself out of his range, a chord of saliva connecting you and his cock for a second before it fell in your chin.

He took a look at his cock, meeting it perfectly clean transparent, but still wet with your saliva, while using a hand to wipe your chin.

“Yes, I am… Good girl.” He patted your head gently while grabbing a piece of toilet paper to finally wipe his dick dry. “Get up.” He shifted his tone as soon as he zipped his pants back to their place.

With the help of his hands, you stood up, still struggling with your shaky legs. But Scaramouche held you against the wall while rearranging you with a knee. He firstly took off your blindfold and tried tying it back to its spot in your forehead, which made you also available to help him out. Of course you didn’t look perfect. Your mascara and lipstick were ruined and you couldn’t get the straps in breasts back to their place, unless you took it all away from you and did it again.

“Shit…” You complained while looking at yourself in the mirror by your side.

“Here.” Scaramouche grabbed his jacket from the floor behind you and handed it to you.

God, he looked so much better without that jacket on him, although it did add more to his costume. But now that his wine-colored dress shirt without most buttons attaching to their hole was all he wore in his chest, it made him look twice sexy to you, especially since some of the many kisses you marked in him were visible there.

“Thanks…” You were a little embarrassed now that sex was over. “You might want to button your shirt again.” You started dressing his jacket and he immediately started closing up his buttons.

“Thanks. Can you walk?” He asked while reaching for the door, also awkward.

“I… don’t think so…” You looked away, but Scaramouche simply took your worst in his hand.

“Come… let’s get out of here.” His look was surprisingly very calm and smooth to you. A version of Scaramouche you’ve never witnessed.

“What a gentleman I got myself tonight…” You mocked while he opened the door.

“… Shut up.” You two finally stepped out, meeting a man right in front of the door that seemed to be waiting to use it for a long time.

Scaramouche ignored him, but you felt a little guilty and embarrassed to know that some minutes ago you were fucking with your best friend with degradation kink.

“Hey, you two! Where the fuck you two have been at?!” I’ve been looking for you two for hours!” Your friend in common, Faruzan, suddenly showed up in front of you two, dressed up as a sexy cat, but when she noticed the differences in your costumes, one of her eyebrows frowned. “What the hell happened to you, Y/N?! Weren’t you supposed to be a mummy mommy? You look like an actual mummy!” She laughed at you, but then she realized that you two looked awkwardly sweaty. “… Don’t tell me you two fucked.” She looked a little concerned.

“She was the one trying to fuck actually.” Scara suddenly started arguing with her for you. “Found her drunk ass trying to hit on Alhaitham. Even showed her boobs to him, but she failed so bad, she can’t even stick the stripes back.” Scaramouche and Faruzan started cackling together at his fake story, taking advantage of the fact that she was a little drunk to invent a really weird lie.

“Alhaitham?!” Faruzan acted like she had just heard the gossip of the year to you, who just stared at her still exhausted.

You breathed in and out.

“… Yeah, I tried.” You looked away, and she started cackling again.

“Oh my god! You’re sooooo stupid! Out of all hotties you could hit on here, you picked that geek?! Even Scaramouche was a better option!” She couldn’t hold back her giggles, barely spilling her alcohol out of her cup, while Scaramouche smirked at the unintentional compliment.

“Yeah, I know…” You avoided eye contact with Scaramouche.

“Let me take her home now. Her legs are, like, barely working.” He finally started talking more serious.

“Ok, ok! Don’t try hitting on him too, you silly!” She pointed at Scaramouche while talking to you, and finally walked away.

As soon as she was out of your way, you two went back to normal

“Really..? That was your lie? You’re lucky she was drunk enough to believe it.” You mocked him.

“It worked, so shut up.” He brushed you off, finally opening the doors to the exterior. “So you think I’m a better option than Alhaitham?” He asked in the same aroused tone he was using in the bathroom.

The cold air of the night immediately hit your bodies, making you shiver a little bit since your costume result wasn’t made for fall. You didn’t expect the weather to change so much in such a short matter of hours.

“Please… not even if he was as ugly as you.” You scoffed at him.

“That wasn’t what you were saying some minutes ago, mommy.” He opened the door to the backseat of his car.

“Are you trying to take me home right now? I’m fine! I still want to party! Gosh, and you can’t even let a friend sit next you…” You tried pushing him away, but he resisted and looked at you ready to laugh.

“… Don’t tell me you didn’t figure out we’re gonna fuck in the backseat.” He giggled at you.

And then you remembered what he previously told you before walking you around.

“I can’t predict the meaning of every puzzle that comes out of your mouth!” Scaramouche simply smirked and pushed the both of you in the cushions and smacking the door shut.

“You’re just slow.” He shrugged his shoulders while positioning himself between your legs. “Now… let’s go for round two. Shall we, mommy?” His pun made you smirk in anticipation.

“Sure… try being more gentle this time.” You shrugged your shoulder while sliding the zipper of his jacket down again.

“Gentle?” He laughed for a moment.

“I’ll fuck your brains out of your head.”

Taglist: @alatusorrow @shyentsfoundherink @luminieee @the-stinky-winky @kindofshyent @amoyanderes

Happy Halloween for all the Scaramouche whores! 🎃

[heeliopheelia]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘-! 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍... 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘? 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍, 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 (p. jay x reader)

tw: fem! reader, rough sex, no protection, well daddy kink ig, darcyphilia, pet names, hair pulling, doggy style, slight spanking, heavily implied oral at the end

word count: 0.6k

masterlist

The couch armrest is not the most comfortable object to be bent over while all the air gets knocked out of your lungs, but oh well…

“You’re mine. Only mine,” your boyfriend rasps from behind you, hand gripping your hip and pulling you into his cock with force.

Jay watches as his red tip gets swallowed by your pussy so eagerly, the position you’re in really granting him a magazine-cover worthy view. 

“S-slower,” you whimper out somehow with your cheek smushed against the cushion. “Go slower, daddy. Please.”

His borderline brutal pace doesn’t allow you to catch a break to fill your lungs back up properly as anytime you try to open your mouth, you’re being humbled by only being able to let out lewd noises. 

“Don’t worry.” You whine when his hand tangles itself in your hair and the next second you’re being pulled upwards from the couch. “I’ll fuck you real good, princess.”

And you have zero doubts about that. He snugs himself deeper into your tight pussy and you moan loudly at his warmth. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip harshly as you try to hold onto any dignity that’s left in you, though you can feel it beginning to tremble just mere seconds later. 

“Just stay still and look pretty for me, yeah?” He taunts you, nose brushing against your arched neck. 

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you stutter out between his thrusts, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Then you add with a small voice strained with a whine, “Anything for you.”

The title never ceases to make Jay’s cock harden and now is not an exception. So with a breathy laugh, he lands a smack on your already reddened ass and rewards you with an even faster pace. 

“Now that’s a good fucking girl.”

He lets go of your hair and you fall back into the cushions with a weak mewl. You’re so exposed beneath him, so dependent on him and he loves you like this. 

Spreading your legs even more apart, your feet lose whatever ground they had and now you feel more like a ragdoll at his mercy than an actual sane woman. Your body jolts forward with the harsh smack of his hips as your legs dangle in the air helplessly. 

“Oh my god, daddy! I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you cry breathlessly, frantically, fingers digging into the cushion as a first teardrop runs down your cheek and blends with the bright fabric, staining it with mascara. 

Jay’s head lolls back as a loud grunt escapes through his gritted teeth and he pounds into you wildly, simultaneously blacking out any thought out of your mind. He feels so thick and heavy between your plush walls. You shudder and pant loudly when with the next slap to your ass, you come harder than you’ve ever had before.

And you're so tight just before you loosen up for him, warm juices coating his cock. He stays inside for a moment longer, giving you shallow thrusts as you slowly come down from your high. Your body is hot and trembling as he grabs you by your legs and flips you onto your back. 

Your ears are ringing as you try to get used to not having him inside you anymore, then blink slowly when Jay comes into the frame of your view for the first time this hour. And he’s beautiful. Toned body glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed and cock hard and leaking. 

He stands right above your exhausted self, and you look up at him with mascara under your eyes as his thumb swipes along your bottom lip, only to push it inside your mouth the next second, parting it with his finger.

“Open up, baby. Daddy needs to cum too.”

taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @enhabooks @antoinettenotfound

[connorsui]

His massive hands gripped the back of your thighs, pulling them up and trapping you against his chest, your legs spread wide and helpless as he positioned himself between them. You were completely at his mercy, your body utterly defenseless in his grasp.

Just as he liked it.

"What a sight you’re" Sukuna growled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "So fucking helpless. Right where you belong." His voice was dark and thick with mockery, the power and control he had over you intoxicating him even more.

Your wrists flailed, trying to push against his iron grip, but it was useless. You tapped against his forearms weakly, your breath already coming in short gasps as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming position. His cock was already buried deep inside you, stretching you wide, his thick length filling you to the brim, but it wasn’t enough for him. He bucked his hips hard, driving into you with a force that made your head loll back onto his shoulder, your lips parting in a choked moan.

"Stop whining, woman," Sukuna grunted, his voice low and commanding as he slammed into you relentlessly. The angle, the depth—it was all too much, too fast. You could feel the heat building inside you, your body reacting involuntarily to his every brutal thrust.

Your cunt clenched tightly around him, slick and wet, your arousal dripping down your thighs and coating his cock. The shameful slickness only made him laugh, his voice rumbling in amusement. "So filthy," he sneered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at this greedy cunt. You're making a mess all over my cock." He emphasized his point with a hard slap to your clit, the impact making your body jolt, a sharp cry escaping your lips.

The pain was sharp, but it was laced with pleasure, and your body betrayed you as your walls clenched around him even tighter. Sukuna noticed, of course, and he was quick to make fun of you for it. "Oh? You love that, huh?" he taunted, his tone dripping with condescension. "Look at how you’re squeezing me. You’re fucking pathetic."

Another hard spank landed on your clit, and you gasped, your back arching as the sensation sent shockwaves through your body. Sukuna grinned, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. "You gonna clean it up? All this slick you’re leaving on my cock?" he mocked, punctuating his words with brutal thrusts that had you seeing stars.

You could barely speak, barely think, your body completely overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. All you could do was whimper, your nails digging into his forearms as your pleasure built to a fever pitch, Sukuna's merciless thrusts driving you toward the edge. He could feel it too, the way your body trembled and tightened around him.

"Come on," he growled, his voice low and rough. "I want to hear you beg for it."

[aquasoftware]

NINE INCH NAILS…!!

Synopsis: Satoru is gentle with you until you bruise his ego.

CW: Choking, pwp, masochism, scratching, established relationship, reader has acrylics, imagined in missionary, teasing, big dick gojo ofc, profanity, Reader’s nails isn’t actually 9 inches title is just dramatic 😟, etc/MDNI.

FT: Drabble.

WC: 424 || Paring : Gojo x F!Reader || M.L

Satoru never minded women who adored wearing long nails; he'd still offered to pay for it either way because whatever you wanted, you'd get. Sometimes he could almost read your mind about what you wanted, but that special tool in his brain only unlocked when you had intense mood swings during your period.

The only problem with long nails was that they hurt, especially with the spot you both were in right now. Your legs were around his waist, wrapping him in as if he were getting sucked into a black hole, while your velvet walls possessively clutched onto his brutal girth, which forced your fat, drooling pussy lips to spread open.

Your poor g-spot was being bullied by your boyfriend's peach-pink mushroom tip, only causing mewls to ooze out of your mouth as your fingers clawed his back; pretty colored acrylics sunk into his easily bruised skin, triggering Satoru to immediately shut his eyes, hissing at the slight pain.

"I—I'm so... sorry, am I hurting you?" You hiccuped, apologizing in between breaths as the creaky headboard bounced against the wall from how much your little hole was being smashed.

"Don't apologize, m' fine, baby." He replied, cheeks painted a rose pink, letting out a shaky, tremendous exhale, trying his absolute hardest attempt not to lose composure over something that hurt so good.

"Mhmm, you're not fine," You rolled your eyes, except you couldn't tell whether it was from the severe pleasure or your man putting up a fake act so abruptly.

Taking this as your chance to tease him since he'd never admit it anyways, immediately the words that were asking to fucked rough were spat out "The strongest, but can't handle a little acrylics?" A smirk was spread wide across your face, waiting for his response.

Not only were you slightly hurting his back, but his massive ego too?

Satoru paused at rearranging your guts for a moment, furrowing his white, thin brows processing the sentence that was thrown at him.

"Oh, I most definitely can handle it; you can't even handle me.” His smug smile sat well rested on his face, while his hand caressed your throat. However, the other one that wasn't busy made your legs go over his broad shoulders straight, breeding your thirsty cunt far deep.

"Oooh, f—fuck, 'toru I was... I—I'm just playing." Your voice whined at him as if to plead for mercy on your poor pussy. It was too late though, you were in for a limitless amount of rounds.

8/17/24 1:09 am

repost bc tumblr is a bitch + reblog for clear skin

[dumbbitchgalore]

“I said I was sorry, Birdie…” - Old man!Price 💕

"Oh god... please Birdie... Fuck, said 'm sorry dollface..."

John huffs on all fours as he buries his head into the plush pillow, gripping it to keep him sane from your ministrations.

You had your head buried in between his arse cheek, dutifully licking his puckering hole as your tongue pokes and prodes it ever so slightly.

Pulling your head back, you let a long string of saliva drip from your mouth onto his arsehole as it makes its way down his balls and onto the bedsheet. John groans at the sensation, every small touch sending his mind into oblivion.

"But I haven't accepted your apology yet." You smack his backside, leaving a light handprint on his pale skin, a reminder of his lack of outdoor duties since retirement.

His groan morphs into a desperate whine as you continue to chide him.

"And this is how you repay me? Going behind my back, working on the sidelines with Laswell." Another smack reverberates off the bedroom walls.

"You're my fucking mutt now, not the damn government's. You listen to me and if I say no working, that means no working." You whisper in his ear as you give his hair a harsh tug, earning a hiss from him.

John goes to refute you but seems to lose his arguement as he hears the squelch of the lube bottle as you smear it over your fingers. He keeps his mouth shut, lowering his head back onto the pillow as his backside is arched so that it's easier for you.

An acceptance of his punishment emits from his silence, your slicked fingers rubbing up and down his arsehole before slowly making its way into his hole as it flutters around your digits. Letting out a shaky breath, he lets you continue lazily pump your fingers. You sense his slight tenseness and place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"You've always got your safe word, Hun." You mutter opening him on your your fingers, his juices dripping down your fingers. You hold back a groan at the unholy sight in front of you, the desire to worship rather than punish agonisingly intoxicating but you relent at showing him a shread of mercy.

John nods slowly, "Yeah, kiddo. I know... Keep- keep going, sweetpea." croaks out.

Placing another kiss on his cheek, you thrust your digits brutally plunging into his hole. His soft, chubby cock leaking onto the bed, staining the sheets as you pursue your onslaught, each thrust rougher than the previous. You anger and furstrations taken out on his poor hole, your desire to keep him close to you, safe with you after retirement fueling your resentment against his actions.

As your fingers reach the sweet, velvetly spot inside of him, John lets out a shudder. His legs quivering in anticipation, as you smile sweetly at his desperation. Letting the pads of your finger run over his sweet spot, you pepper his arse cheeks with kisses as you reach around him tugging his cock gently.

He shivers at the sensation, babbling praises and admissions of love and need. His body gives into your touches, cock soft as it starts to let out spurts of milky liquid coating your hand in his release.

Chuckling softly, you take your fingers out of his hole and unwrap your hand around his cock. You lick your fingers clean, before leaning down and giving his arsehole one last cleaning as you lick reverently.

John's body is slumped against the bed, panting softly as he comes down from his high. You caresses his backside, peppering it in kisses- a silent apology of your anger.

Sighing softly, you kiss you his spine making your way to his ear.

"I need you alive, my love. Can't do this whole living without you, big bear." You mutter against his ear, kissing the shell of it as John's quiet snores fill up your bedroom.

[tetzoro]

⟡ — MDNI. zoro x f!reader blurb ; slight dumbification, mention of creampie, zoro calls reader pet names ( pretty girl, baby ), reader has been overthinking far too much for zoro’s liking — WC : 1.1k

the scratchy linen sheets that take up zoro’s bunk could turn into silk with how gentle his hands graze upon your skin. treating you with the utmost care as if he isn’t relentlessly pounding into you.

zoro was a juxtaposition that you could never fully figure out. a man who’s life had been full of so many rough edges, sharpness waiting at every turn and yet, had the ability and power to corrode them into something as smooth as sand that slips through your fingers.

the way he continuously melts into you, driving his cock so deep that you swear you feel his tip nudge the bottom of your heart. the silent love that pours from him, the deliberate care he puts into every single move makes you ache all over.

slowly but surely, zoro’s thrusts coax you back to him, away from all the thoughts that muddled in your brain and chipped away at your soul.

because here with him, you were safe. you were protected. nothing would ever have the opportunity to hurt you as long as he was here with you. all you had to do was give in and trust that he will always be here to take care of you whenever you needed it most.

but a sharp thrust shattered away your thoughts, your attention fully returning to the man towering on top of you. his own steely gaze burns back into you, the slight crinkle of concern around his eyes softening the blow just a little more but the intensity remains.

“god, do you ever stop thinking?” zoro asks, snapping his hips flush against yours. you let out a cry as his thick cock plunges deep within you, filling all of your senses with him as he continuously splits you open. “or do i need to fuck all the thoughts out of that head of yours?”

“i—” the rest of your sentence gets cut off after another brutal thrust, knocking all of the air right out of your lungs and stealing the words that dangle off your tongue. he looks down at you with a smug look.

“oh?” he taunts, his hips never stilling for a second so you could gather your thoughts to form a sentence. no, it would be too merciful. a concept that was lost as soon as you denied your treacherous overthinking. each thrust had your mind reeling, fingers digging into the taut muscles of his back that ripple on your touch. “all you needed was my cock, huh?”

finally giving up, you just nod. all words escape you and you don’t even care anymore — not when he’s making you feel this good. his cock dragging along your walls, soothing you with each sure and steady thrust he gives you, trying to shove himself as deep as he can.

for added leverage, zoro’s large palm grabs onto your thigh, gripping it so your leg wraps around his waist. the angle was mind-numbing, the edges of your vision cloudy as a haze washes over your mind. it was addicting; the way your thoughts were fleeing out one by one. immediately, your heel digs into the plush of his ass, silently asking for more.

your eyes find his again before your gaze flits down along his jaw that hangs partially open, soft groans leaving them — only for the sweet melody to disappear behind the lewd sounds of arousal that steadily fill the room.

pleasure rips through you as zoro’s hips continuously snap against yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he thrusts into your wet cunt. you all but arch into him, pressing your chest flush against his as his teeth graze your pulse point.

but somehow, some way, your mind starts to wander again. the horrors trying their best to break through the pleasure and warp your mind, taking you further away from the man you want to devote all of your attention to.

“i can hear you thinking again.” he rasps, grunts spilling from his lips. your mind reels, recentering all your attention onto him rather than the thoughts that plagued you. “told you, i won't — fuck — stop until the only thing you’re thinking about is me.”

you couldn’t answer, not when it felt like his cock was lodging itself all the way up your throat, whisking your every last breath away. your fingers clawed against his back once again before finding purchase at the hair on the nape of his neck — a fruitless attempt to ground yourself.

zoro’s endurance had always been high, but whenever he used it on you, it seemed to double — absolutely set on staying true to his word as he continuously brought you closer to the edge until your mind was full of nothing but him.

the once steady pace grows borderline animalistic as he continues to pound into you, murmurs of sweet praise fill your head, encased in his primal affection. the love surges against your heart and brings you right to the precipice of release.

“zo - fuck!” it’s all you can gasp out, eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails harshly digging into his back, wounds he will always proudly wear.

“s’good for me.” he groans, thick fingers digging back into your skin, sure to blossom into hues of purple and blue by the time he’s done with you. “i’m always gonna take care of my pretty girl.”

“m’close!” your body tightening up, abdomen coiling tightly and threatening to explode in a world of pleasure, drowning everything in sight.

“that’s it, baby.” he grunts in your ear, a low gravely sound that sands away any lingering thoughts. “give it to me.”

and with that, stars flooded your vision, your body trembling as you’re launched into your blissful high.

gone were the thoughts that tormented your mind, endlessly circling around to feed your inner demons. all that was left was him, lulling you back from an altered state of existence.

your body was pliant, nothing more than a heap of limbs that were easily maneuverable into his strong arms. wrapping them around you, zoro kisses your head. you didn’t even realize he finished until his spend started to trail down your inner thighs. your last orgasm turned your vision white, surrounding you in nothing but the pleasure he gave you.

“you good?” he asks softly, a tone he reserves only for times like this, when he’s sent you far over the edge and cradles you back into his arms. “too much?”

“it was perfect.” you still sound a little dazed, a haze of euphoria still muting your senses and turning your brain off for a little while, just what you needed.

zoro would lay with you no matter how long it takes, whispers of praise and adoration flowing into your ear, followed by little kisses on your head, warding off any returning negative thoughts.

he’d do anything for you including protecting yourself from yourself. he knows he can’t always stop the self doubt seeping into your mind but he’ll do his best to chase them far away whenever he can.

thank you so much for reading ! reblogs and comments are very much appreciated ᡣ𐭩 !