#with no power imbalance

[noriee404]

‘Do you even know how to wear it?’

[fraternum-momentum]

give me your complete and unwavering devotion.

[monstersholygrail]

In a Free Use City, there are two ways you can get promoted. You can put in the hard work by taking on extra responsibilities, going longer hours, and putting in the initiative. Or… you can sleep your way to the top. In a Free Use City, sleeping your way to the top isn’t frowned upon but instead highly encouraged. Especially by your bosses.

While everyone tries to sleep their way to the top, you’d be surprised to know that most people get promoted through hard work. Because… In a Free Use City, sleeping your way to the top is actually harder to achieve than putting in the work of the job.

When you decide to sleep your way to the top, you are heavily surveyed and judged based on your ability and skill of fucking and pleasing your bosses. The committee that makes the decision all must be pleased with your individual performances.

Even lost in the throes of pleasure, they remain focused on how well your pretty lips looked wrapped around their thick cocks, how deep you can take them down your throat, how much you can hallow your cheeks and swirl your tongue around their lengths. They count how long they can deep throat you and the amount of time it takes before your tears are dripping down to their heavy balls. Some count more tears as a positive while others consider it a negative.

The next part of the evaluation has them slowly moving down to your holes. They evaluate how turned on you got just from sucking them off. Similarly, some wanna see you leaking buckets while others wanna prep you themselves. They dip their fingers inside of you, teasing you just right. Analyzing how tight you are and how tight you can clench around them.

But they don’t take the time to stretch you. No, that would be cheating on the evaluation form. They need to know how well you can naturally take their fat cocks down your tight core. Some of them give you more points the more you arch and writhe as your body accommodates their girth while others remove points for not just taking it like a good whore.

As they finally properly fuck you, their analytical gaze never wavers. Evaluating your stamina and how quick you bring them to the brink of an orgasm. They have you ride them so they can see your entire body as you bounce on their cocks. So that they can see how deep they’re taking you, their cocks creating a nice pretty bulge in your belly with each brutal thrust. Even the way you cum around their cocks is evaluated and processed in the promotion consideration.

Very few workers meet all the requirements and surpass the points needed to fuck their way to the top. But you don’t care about the odds, you don’t even care all that much about the promotion. You just really wanna fuck all your bosses.

And you end up being the highest scored employee in the history of their company… Congratulations, you’ve just been promoted.

[grimmweepers]

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: OCT 17TH

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zhongli x fem!reader | 𝐜𝐰: established relationship but reader finds out his true identity! morax!form, draconic!form mention, human!reader, sex with a god, hair pulling, creampie, nipple play, rough sex, reader wears a nightgown, he calls you 'small in his hands', reader is implied to serve rex lapis, maybe ooc, 2.8k wc 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This was completely different from the first time you shared beds with him.

Back then, Zhongli had been soft and gentle, undressing you with such tender care until nothing remained but bare skin and bones. You remembered his warm amber eyes, his featherlight touches, and how he gave so much of himself to you that it left you dizzy and breathless. 

But this was something else entirely. 

It wasn’t that long ago when, to you, he was just a consultant at the Funeral Parlour—a Liyue nobleman who was well-versed in Teyvat’s history. He had been courting you since the last Lantern Rite (perhaps longer if you had paid attention) and you were more than content with the consultant, admiring him just as he was.

Then, after retiring his gnosis—and you still struggled to fully grasp what that meant—he finally confessed.

Overnight, he went from a funeral consultant to Rex Lapis and no matter how many times he explained that he was technically no longer an Archon, it didn’t change the fact that he was still an immortal who had witnessed Liyue from infancy.

And you slept with him!

The memory sent a shiver down your spine, though you couldn’t deny the thrill of realising how the Lord of Rock had practically begged for you to get on top that night. That same feeling returned now as you prepared to sleep with him again. 

You basically asked for it, though. 

When he revealed his identity to you, you had some questions. The first was if he had a real form, to which he replied: I have many.

Then the second question—or rather, request—was to see one of these forms. He was happy to oblige, but you hadn’t expected him to be so… forward.

I’m not being forward, he defended himself, My skin is part of my form. It just so happens that I have to adjust my attire for you to see it properly. 

But he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Zhongli—” His name now felt strange on your lips as you stared, spellbound by his new appearance. You were so captivated that anything could have rolled off your tongue and you wouldn’t have noticed… or cared.

He truly embodied every depiction of Rex Lapis you’ve ever seen.

“Is something the matter?” He asked as if his arms weren’t adorned in glowing geo patterns, as if his physique wasn’t carefully carved by millennia as a leader. He stood over you while you sat on the edge of your bed and you gulped at the vitality in his features. 

He looked larger—more youthful, even.

“What do I—” You hesitated, wondering if your question was foolish. “What do I call you?” 

He cupped your jaw the way he always did, though now with bare hands darkened by power that you could barely comprehend. “You can choose whichever name you like,” he replied. “It doesn’t change who I am to you.” 

Your mouth went dry. It was frightening how much more irresistible he seemed like this.

“Morax,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

His brows lifted slightly, but he stayed silent.

“Morax,” you repeated, louder this time. You knew calling him ‘Rex Lapis’ would have been more respectful, more appropriate, but after seeing him in this divine form, with barely a towel wrapped around his waist, you knew that respect had already been thrown out the window. You would ask to be forgiven but what difference would it make if the god you pleaded to stood right before you in compromised garment?

“Interesting choice,” he chuckled as he pressed his thumb to your lips, “Now, lie still and let me enjoy what belongs to me.”

Those words sank in like branding on your skin—what belongs to me.

He was slow with you at first, hovering over you as you lay back. The silk of your nightgown clung to every curve of your body which left little to the imagination and Zhongli was so engrossed with his view, that the lust in his eyes made something inside you stir. You had to look away, your arms instinctively moving to shield your flushed expression.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you found yourself at the mercy of a man so many prayed to.

Gently, he pulled your arm away, “Why do you turn from me, my love?” He tilted his head, studying you like prey, but the tenderness in his voice reminded you that the ghost of your sweet Zhongli was still there, lingering beneath this form. 

“Are you regretting your curiosity?”

“I guess… seeing you this way makes me a little… shy,” you said, though you didn’t believe your own answer.

Before you could say more, his mouth was on yours, fierce and reassuring. It took the air right out of your lungs. You barely had time to recover before he started trailing softer kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. 

“Shy?” he repeated against your skin, “After all we’ve done, you’re still shy?” He slid his hand up your sides, tangling his fingers between the fine silk. “You may be skilled at keeping secrets but not from me. Tell me the truth, my sweet.” 

You opened your mouth to respond but you couldn’t stop your back from arching at his touch, which was very much an invitation for him to tear off the delicate fabric from your body. When he did, it left your chest exposed to his hungry gaze, earning him a small gasp and a deep ache pooling between your legs. 

“You’re so small in my hands,” he mused, fingers tightening around your throat for a brief moment. "And yet… you offer yourself so willingly."

You had offered yourself to a god.

You had offered yourself to a god.

“Do you understand what you’re doing?”

A shudder tore through you as he took both breasts into his hands and sunk his teeth between them, leaving you little marks made from canines you had never seen before. When you suddenly felt his hard bulge pressing against your core, you realised the towel around his waist had already been discarded. How could you even respond to him?

“This excites you, doesn’t it?” He murmured into the crook of your neck, grinding against you. He didn’t give you a chance to speak when he pried your legs open with one knee. “Have I ever told you how intoxicating you smell when you’re like this?” 

Harder than before, he bit into your neck and you found your fingers tugging on his hair.

“You can… smell me—?”

“I can sense you,” he corrected, “And I know exactly what you want from me." You could certainly tell he was pleased with himself yet instead of pushing you away, it only drew you in further.

With a single motion, you hooked your finger around the pin holding his ponytail in place, and pulled—freeing his hair so it cascaded down over his toned muscles.

He looked perfect. Divine. It was your way of confirming what he already knew—that you wanted this, wanted him.

Zhongli’s eyes glowed in the dim light and there was no mistaking the godly aura of Morax residing in him. The air seemed heavier under the weight of his presence. You were suffocating.

A deep growl elicited from his chest as he pushed the tip of his cock against your underwear, teasing your entrance. You whimpered at the way he bullied you, desperately pulling him in for another feverish kiss to satisfy at least one need.

This one was hungrier, messier. His groan vibrated through your mouth as his carbon-black hand slid back to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. 

Each twist and flick of his tongue felt like a silent demand: Give in. Yield.

In this state, a picture cleared. Zhongli's hands were everywhere—tangled in your hair, between the valley of your breasts, dipping into the areas you ached the most. This side of him was primal, gluttonous, and possessive. Every touch felt forbidden—blasphemous, even. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say you weren’t enjoying every sinful second of it.

Finally, Zhongli parted from the kiss, his breath heavy as his eyes stayed locked with yours. For once, he allowed himself to make you completely at his will. 

The head of his cock pressed harder against your entrance, the flimsy barrier of your silk underwear doing little to dull the intensity of his lust. He was desperate to feel the warmth inside you. You were already soaked, and he knew it—he could feel it, smell it, and it drove him wild.

“My dear,” he said, sound impatient now, “you know I admire you, right?”

“I do,” you replied too quickly.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to be mistaken.”

“What do you mea—”

Before you could finish, he pulled your underwear to the side and let his cock glide against your folds. Your hips moved with him, coating his shaft with your wetness, and that was enough for him to forget about taking it slow. Groaning, he shoved his blunt tip inside you and it left your thighs trembling. Your body felt like it was on fire, jerking back as his length stretched you out, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly, “Oh my—” you gasped.

Had it been that long since you last did this, or was this form accompanied by godly… benefits?

With his head thrown back in sheer pleasure, he let out a throaty grunt, almost salivating at the way your walls pulsed around him—like your body had been made just for him. Somehow, sex felt even better in this form and it had him feral enough to hold the sides of your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to anchor himself between your legs. “That’s it,” he growled, “Take every inch.” 

He started thrusting—hard—the sound of skin meeting skin echoed off the walls. Your breasts bounced in rhythm, and he was so entranced by the sight he could cum on the spot. Every second, he was ripping moan after moan out of you as he fucked you into the mattress. 

“Morax,” you called out, your voice shaking while he pumped in and out of you relentlessly, “So… good. I want more…” You ran your hands across his chest, feeling the quickening of his breath. His face shifted into a predatory look and you realised that he was losing himself as much as you.

“Then come here,” he groaned through gritted teeth, spoken exactly like someone who had never been defiled.

He didn’t wait for you to respond. Instead, he flipped you to your stomach, left your ass in the air and your legs hanging off the bed—your toes barely even touching the floor.

You braced yourself for his unyielding pace, but he surprised you with a tender kiss on your shoulder, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

The unexpected affection made your heart swell so you wiggled against his crotch, inviting him for more. He chuckled, almost pityingly, knowing full well what he was about to do next.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before he pushed back inside you, hissing as he indulged in your warmth. You swore you were well-behaved but somehow this felt like a punishment. He, who was so deceptively gentle a moment ago, found your hair and tugged it into his fist, drawing a sharp yelp from your lips.

Once he started moving at the same unforgivable pace, each thrust forced his name out of your mouth. “M-Morax— Mor–ax,” you were barely coherent and it riled him up the more you said it. It surely wasn’t the first time hearing someone call him that but in this context, he wasn’t going to make it his last—especially if it was you.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice resonant, like the rumbling of the earth itself. 

“Y-Yes…”

Although, you weren’t sure what you expected when you asked to see his form but you knew what you were receiving now was the primal strength of something foreign to you.

His heavy cock stretched you so deliciously, filling you so completely that every nerve in your body screamed with pleasure. You clawed at the sheets as you creamed rings around his base and the wooden bedframe groaned with each erratic thrust.

His movements were undeniably getting sloppier and his breaths came in short, guttural huffs. “Feel- how- deep I am inside- you?” he rasped, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. “You’re taking it so well.” You couldn’t see it but you heard a grin dancing behind his voice as he pushed deeper.

Your feet were lifting off the ground with each thrust, leaving your ass stinging from the relentless pounding. When you felt his free hand snake around to cup your breast, fingers squeezing your sensitive nipple, you practically melted. “Thank you… Ple—,” you whined, the only words you could really manage.

But that was enough for him.

Zhongli’s grip on your hair tightened as he pulled, forcing your head back while his other hand dug into the soft flesh of your breast. The pain mixed with pleasure sent your vision into a blur of white. It shouldn’t feel this good but you could feel your orgasm coming despite being nothing but a ragdoll in his powerful hands. 

His body trembled as he chased his release, each thrust growing more urgent as he drove into your G-spot. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body until finally, your climax hit like a tidal wave. Letting go of your hair, you collapsed against the mattress. It was too much so it left you biting into the sheets, a cry ripping from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with each spasm. “I-I’m—ahhh—cumming!”

“Just like that,” he groaned while your body tightened, savouring the way your body responded to every thrust. He was unable to think about anything else aside from the feeling of your muscle clenching and pulsating, “So tight—keep going. You’re perfect like this.”

With one final snap of his hips, you felt him pulse between your walls, his balls tightening as he emptied deep inside you. Thick ropes of hot milky cum filled you, his cock twitching as he buried himself to the hilt. Your name rolled off his lips in a low, drawn-out grunt that was raw and animalistic, a sound that made you delirious enough to go another round just to hear it again. 

Even after he finished, he stayed pressed against you, fucking his cum back into you with lazy, satisfied strokes, filling you over and over until there was nothing left to give. 

“I’m… full,” you whispered shakily, still feeling every inch of him inside you.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Yes and no. If getting tossed around meant you were fine, then sure.

"I'm okay," you breathed.

"Good girl."

When he finally pulled out, you went completely limp, rolling onto your back while a thin layer of sweat left your skin glowing.

You could feel Zhongli doing the same, his body mirroring yours as you both lay there, chests heaving, struggling to catch your breaths. After a moment, you turned to face him, both of you blinking at each other under the light.

“This… wasn’t what I meant when I said show me one of your forms,” you managed to say. 

“Are you complaining?” 

You let out a soft sigh as you stared up at the ceiling. Even after all this, he hadn’t lost his sarcastic sense of humor. “No,” you admitted, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “It’s just that… well, I think I might’ve enjoyed you—the real you—a little more than I expected. A little more than what’s appropriate, perhaps.”

You couldn’t help but dance around the memory of all the offerings you’d given Rex Lapis throughout your life. Was this his gift in return?

“Oh? Pray tell, what is it that you enjoyed so much?”

You hesitated but the way he looked at you made it impossible not to answer. 

 “I liked… the way you moved…" you felt slightly embarrassed to continue but he nodded for you to go on, "You were rougher on me, but it made me want more…”

While you spoke, you noticed subtle changes in him. His pupils began narrowing into thin slits, and his golden irises seemed to glow with an ethereal light. The sharpness of his fangs became more pronounced, peeking between his lips. His fingers, which had been tracing circles on your arm, now felt a little sharper, almost claw-like.

“And… your strength,” you gulped as you watched his transformation. “It was… overwhelming. I couldn’t resist it but I didn't want to. I felt safe.”

A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, his hand sliding possessively to your waist. It made your stomach flip.

“If that’s the case,” his voice was deeper now, almost a purr as his newly revealed tail coiled around your thigh. He leaned closer, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. 

“Why are you trembling?”

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers: @/astrumaur

[sanakimohara]

Hold on….dating Minho has so many perks!-….p*rn links!

explicit content ahead + masterlist > + OT8 list >

- You’ll have his hands on you all the time! Discreet touches and taps that get your heart racing and your skin all warm under his touch! It feels so nice and right!

- You have all his focus when you’re alone. From the moment you wake up to the minute you’re back in bed with him! He’s partial to spending his off days with you in bed just because it’s way too comfortable to leave and you’re way too warm to separate from!

- You can be a little mean to him sometimes -just a little, though! Minho likes a challenge, loves to see you struggle when he’s the one driving you to the edge, and god do you love it when he does!

- You’re so entitled and so talkative. Sometimes the only thing he can do to shut you up and try to get some work done is by playing with you until there’s not a thought present in your head! And that’s just what you need!

- You have the chance to watch him practice. Admiring how he dances and runs through his vocal lines like it’s second nature. You could watch him for hours and he wouldn’t mind in the slightest because when he’s all done you’re the help him unwind! A nice treat after a session of hard work!

- You can overwork yourself sometimes -be a little stressed and overwhelmed and he’ll completely understand! Minho doesn’t mind helping you get your mind off things. Always ready to soothe you just the same way you do for him!

- You get to send him all the cute videos you want! Even silly ones of cats or simple interests you have. He’ll respond to every single one -sometimes a little more enthusiastically than you expected but you’re not one to complain!

- You’d be his second half. The person he can confide in and relate to when others fall short of doing so.

- You’d be his whole world -even when he’s a bit rough with you!…

Had some fun with this one…🖤

I refuse to call Twitter…”X”….like be so fr…it’s still TWITTER !! Anyways good night my loves! I’m going on a shopping spree tmr and I need my beauty rest for it! 🖤

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Head Canons:

My Kind Of Love

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Fem Reader

TW: arranged marriage/ forced relationship, yandere, stalking, etc

You were the adopted daughter of another yakuza family, one that was engaged to Hanayama Kaoru since birth. Your fate long decided for you…

Hanayama wasn’t a bad person per se, for the son of a yakuza family. The only issue was that he hardly spoke. Nope. Hanayama often stared at you while you did all of the talking… he was a silent yet intimidating presence. Especially as the two of you grew older.

As a child, he’d often sit beside you. You used to think he was shy, so you’d talk with him in a soft tone. You were gregarious compared to his taciturn self. Yet you never made him feel unwelcome so he would always turn up for every ‘play date’ your parents set up. It made you think he tolerated you… how wrong you were.

When he grew old enough to get his back tattoo, he had spoken to you briefly. “I have something important to do, but I will be back.” You had thought that was odd, but you smiled at your fiancé. “Okay, Hanayama. I’ll be waiting for you then so be safe.” You thought it was kind of cute how his ears turned pink… who knew he could blush.

When you saw him again, you were shocked by all of the scars that littered his body, yet you didn’t nag him. No, you simply held him and smiled at him. “Thank you for keeping your word.” You failed to notice how his heart hammered in his chest when your fingers lightly traced over the scabs on his face. “Those will be some pretty gnarly scars, but they’ll make you look cool.” You had no idea what you did to this man…

When his mother’s health began to deteriorate, he had you at his side. He was such a large teenager, yet he looked so small when he’d fold himself up into your lap. You often ran your fingers through his dark locks and softly reassured him. He still hardly spoke, but you finally caught him with a small smile on his face.

When his mother passed, he was prone to bursts of anger yet he never showed that side of himself to you. No. You were precious to him… more precious than anything in the world. And you deserved to be protected and pampered. He began to seek advice from Kizaki about romance after that.

Now that the two of you were in your twenties, he’d often pull you into his lap. He still hardly spoke but he would make you be near him in anyway possible if the two of you were alone. It was quite odd.

Sometimes you’d swear you would spot his men trailing behind you if you were out and about, yet they were gone when you’d turn around. There was no way your stoic fiancé was stalking you… right?

He’d gift you bouquets of roses and invite you out to dinner with outfits he’d pick out. You would receive handwritten notes of love that borderlines obsession. There was no way Hanayama wrote those, you didn’t even know if he actually liked you. Hanayama hardly spoke after all…

His stabs at romance were interesting to say the least. Hanayama’s actions were loud. His gifts were extravagant and borderline gaudy, yet you didn’t mind. You were engaged after all. And that wedding date was rabidly approaching…

The wedding was grand, large, and heavily guarded. And Hanayama’s hand tightly gripped yours in an inescapable hold. It was nerve wracking to say the least.

And the minute it was time for that honeymoon, you were rushed off quickly. Hanayama practically dragged you to the suite, his breathing ragged, his scarred face flushed, and his black hair a bit disheveled. Was he okay? You’ve never seen him so expressive.

It wasn’t until he had you all alone that he began to rip at his clothes like a madman. You barely had the first button undone before he was on you. His fundoshi the last garment on him. His lips eagerly pressed against the side of your neck.

“Hanayama? We really don’t have to-“ your voice was stuck in your throat when he pulled away to stare at you with his dark eyes.

“I’ve waited so many years to hold you like a man.” Hanayama muttered. “I’ve held back for so long and now you’re finally mine.”

You’re peppered with more impatient kisses while his thick fingers made quick work of your wedding dress. “I love you so much, my beautiful wife.”

How were you to know that your fiancé actually loved you this entire time? Not to mention, how sore his kind of love would leave you after tonight…

[sleep-0-deprived]

Feels like sugar in me~ (Dom Yandere manager x model male reader) ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: power abuse, ass eating, voyuer, humiliation, gaslighting/ manipulation, older man-younger man (character is referenced in his mid forties and reader in his twenties) dark content, slight dub con, dacryphilia <33

A/N: my posting schedule has been all wonky the past month! But I hope you guys enjoy and as promised @blond3ang3l ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა

Everybody knew that modeling was a cruel line of work, your father told you so ever since you were just a little boy prancing around your bedroom.

Most male models didn’t last more than a month in the industry, you understood exactly why once you started putting yourself out there. Applying to all the big name brand you could never dream to be taken in by but you wanted to atleast try!

Here you were, halfway across the U.S trying to pursue your own little American dream and how else would you do that if not by working in some rundown diner by your apartment. Well that was until you met Him, tall and undoubtedly handsome with black hair having grey streaks through the sides with a small little beard of mostly white hairs, his name hung infamous to anybody who ever wanted to be a somebody, Dean Carter was his name.

You didn’t know him too well, just a local man who liked the diner you worked at for some reason you always thought. But he’d smile at you a little too long or tip you a little too much with his age showing at every glance he handed you. Creases in the corners of his eyes and lips crinkling up in delight when he watched how your hips swayed in your apron working the floor having him in awe. He had to have you—he absolutely needed you.

He’d simply slip you his business card just trying to swoon you under his wing like any big dreaming boy, whispering honeyed promises of fame and being a star on the runway to you anytime you would doubt him. Your fate was sealed the moment he wanted you, he was a man of greed and power and he wanted you in his pocket like a caged bird.

Here you were, eight months later from meeting dean, a photo shoot just being finished by you but you were far from happy. How could you possibly be happy when all you were seen as was the pretty boy who slept his way to fame, and the worst part of it all was the fact they weren’t wrong and all you could do is sit in your designated seat in your dressing room feeling the cold hand clasping your cheek “don’t listen to them baby, you’re just so much more than a pretty face and you know it”

Dean leans down kneeling on his knees with his chin resting on your shoulder blade holding your chin making you look at the mirror straight ahead of you. “Sh-sh doll don’t pout, you’ll ruin your makeup” his lips press to the back of your ear as his hands grip the sides of your seat turning you facing him.

“Not right now dean..” you whimper out silently feeling the hotness in your eyes bubbling up with tears that threaten to peak. “Don’t be that way baby doll, let me make it all better, you know I just wanna help” his voice softens so much your heart wants to believe it’s all real but atlas, you knew so better and yet you still fell.

“Not tonight dean, I don’t feel like it” you sniffle put rubbing your face feeling your warm cheeks under your palms while his hands slip down massaging your thighs in the slacks you were modeling. His thumbs tracing up slowly to your zipper giving it a little tug, you already knew what he was getting at and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

“Hush darlin, it’ll all feel alright so soon” a elicit purr fell from his thin lips when he stops after opening up the top of your pants leaving them hanging up on your hips, his hands slipping up to your hip bone and grabbing it gently lifting you up out of the chair and getting you on the counter of your dressing room while his hands guide your thighs apart.

“People will hear us dean” you hush out and tilt your head back looking upwards at him trying your hardest to not let your emotions win tonight. “Well then they’d be lucky, you’re my little show-boy aren’t you [name]? Always strutting down that runway”

Dean’s hands slide up your sides gripping your boxers and the waistband of your bottoms and slid them off down your thighs with ease leaving you in your white socks and the designer shirt, having not made it to putting on the shoes yet.

“O-h shit—“ you go slack in the face with your jaw hanging pinching your brows together when his face shoves between your thighs and nuzzles his way between your cheeks having you spread wide arching your back and holding the marble counter top.

“Taste’s so sweet doll, like sugar on mh tongue” his voice deepens rolling his own eyes back into his skull leaving red irritation marks on your ass cheeks from his stubble while he groans against your hole before lapping his tongue out from his mouth giving a long lick going down your crack leaving your balls neglected while your cock stands half hard.

“Dean, they’re gonna hear us~” you can’t help anymore, you slowly crumble on the counter, reaching your hands back and placing them over your mouth trying to hide how you were crying like a little boy and leaning back against the dressing room mirror internally praying that none of the brand executives made it to your room to see you in all your glory hitching your leg up on the older males shoulder and letting him devour you like a helpless lamb.

Deans tongue presses flat to your rim and keeps rubbing against it before his lips press against your hole sucking at it and gripping your thighs tighter looking up at you the whole time wanting to kiss away your tears.

“My baby boy is such a pretty cryer” he hums in a sickeningly sweet tone coating your rim in a glossy layer of his spit making heat build inside your stomach leaving your cock now fully erect pressing it’s way to your belly button.

“I’m not gonna- I can’t handle it!” A sharp gasp falls from your lips feeling like you’re being torn apart by the man between your thighs. His fingers moving off your thighs only leaving his right hand on your knee trying to keep your thighs from fully closing around his hand while he takes his fingers and snakes his way between your cheeks, letting us index finger prod open the walls whilst he keeps flicking his tongue in sync to his fingers.

“You wanna be a star right doll? Let me make you the brightest one” the movement doesn’t slow or waver leaving your lips trembling against your palm understanding his inward promise, the one he’s told you a thousand times over.

“Close dean” you sloppily slur and cry out feeling your hand slipping from hour mouth when his finger works its way against your prostate having the world around you turn white in a buzz and your cock glaze over with a pearl of semen leaking down the sides of your base making your body clamp up ready for the wave of release to wash over you only to have him pull away from your ass leaving your leg sliding off his shoulder when he stands back up.

“I want you to reach your orgasm from my cock, not my mouth baby doll” his words wash over you when he wipes his hands off and starts undoing his belt leaving his slacks undone while he opens up his fly, the grey waistband reading ‘Calvin Klein’ exposes itself to you before he pulls out his cock showing him already stiff from eating you out.

“Look at the mess you made baby, you’ve got my face utterly filthy” stepping between your thighs keeping them spread open while he presses his face into the side of your neck with your legs slowly lifting up to his hips, “the staff will hear us, I don’t want them to know dean” your hand finds its way into his hair and pulls at it, not even bothering to hide the hot tears streaming down your face.

He reaches his hand off your hip, still holding it tight with his other hand while he holds your chin firm and lifts his head from the crook of your neck pressing hot kisses to your damp cheeks. Dean’s cock presses its way between your slick cheeks letting his cock-head rub and make contact with your rim almost daring to push inside you but not doing so yet.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ve got’cha” his words linger muffled and half audible between his lust filled haze and the wet kisses he left across your skin. Your thighs stay parted up on his hips with your eyes looking up at him feeling humiliated in ways beyond words, unable to stare in the mirror behind you, unable to face what you’ve let him break you into.

“Just push in dean” your sniffles fall on deaf ears but he just smiles down at you and takes his lips off your cheeks placing them on your neck while letting your chin out of his clasp making your ruined face fall forwards on his shoulder when he slips his hands back to your hips guiding you down on his cock. “That’s a good boy, my sweet little angel” he talks you through it making your rim ease up when he sinks into you leaving you feeling every vein of his shaft when it pierces you.

“Sh-sh-sh don’t cry, baby. If you stay nice and quiet I’m sure they won’t hear” his words do very little in terms of easing you. Your neck tilts back looking up at the ceiling and staring through blurred leans as you reach your hands off the counter edges and dig your nails into the back of his tailored suit, leaving lighter colored marks on the fabric while the sound of hushed moans and skin filled up the dressing room.

Dean continued to roll his hips and make out with your neck, butting and sucking on every inch moaning into the skin, not bothering to stop your tears “you’re so pretty when you cry like that Y’know angel”

his voice was far to sweet for the ways he was ravaging your body. His cock pressed up against your prostate with every deep stroke he gave, your cock weeped against your stomach the whole time he held your hips flush against him while working between your legs, making sure his cock rubbed and violated every inch of your cavern.

Dean held your hips tight, softly massaging them and rutting his hips fucking you up against the counter with his canines dragging alongside of your neck so soft you felt like you were on cloud nine and yet you wanted to puke. You’ve never felt so beautiful yet so dirty until you were with him.

You finally look down from the ceiling with a sharp gasp “o-oh Dean-“ your eyes zoom out until they see the dressing room door peaking open, then it’s like bells and gears in your head start churning with your toes curled close to cumming. “Don’t even pay attention to it doll” Dean smooths you or at least he try’s to sooth you but fails, you just shove your face into his shoulder moaning and wailing to yourself when you realize there’s someone entering the room.

“Are you almost ready [nam—“ low and behold the door opened wide standing in the doorway was one of the stage managers for your upcoming shoot today, he stood jaw slacked the clipboard nearly falling from his hand staring at you watching how Dean didn’t bother stopping making the tears flow faster when you look up from dean’s shoulder having your eyes meet.

“Scram, boy. [name] is busy right now” Dean’s voice hardens tilting his head back out of your neck with drool smeared on his chin from a the kissing he was doing to your neck. He doesn’t bother to stop your coupling session but instead shoo’s off the other man. Oliver the stage manager scrambles to leave quickly, not wanting to be in the middle of the situation any longer but you knew him.

You knew within ten minutes the whole brand- better yet label. Would know your secret and that alone made your face go red with shame. “I’m close~ let-me come please?” You plead with Dean knowing that you needed your high, you needed the adrenaline that brought you to heaven before throwing yourself back down to sadness like always.

“Come for me darlin, just let go” Dean croons to you holding you up on the counter steadily thrusting into you already starting to leak more pre cum inside you. Your dressing room door still open wide leaving anyone able to see you being ruined by your manager if they just walked down the hall. Your cock starts to spasm and bob upwards jerking on its own about to cum as your legs wrap tighter around his hips, gripping his back and curling your toes tight arching.

Your walls clamped tight around his manhood when you finally hit your peak feeling rope after rope speed from the pudgy cock head when you orgasm. Dean pulls out of you and comes all over your thighs, holding you tight and panting when his cock throbs and releases its load all over your thighs in a thin and runny mess while you sit panting and truth to wipe away your tears before you can even look back at Dean.

“You did great, so great doll” he murmurs his words leaning down kissing your cheek and wiping your eyes leaving you sitting on your dressing room counter all splayed and ruined with cum coating your skin and runny mascara flowing down your cheeks as you watch Dean remove his hands off you and start fixing up his pants, wiping his cock off before putting it back inside his own boxers.

“I’m sorry I have to run honey, I need to straighten things out and I have an appointment with the magazine executives for your next shoot” with one last kiss on your cheek and an infatuatedly pleased smile when he looks down and sees your thighs coated in his cum, a small peck is forced on your lips before you watch him leave as he always did once he was finished.

Sitting alone in your dressing room, still up on the counter with the door now shut feeling the sadness wash over you from the after effects of your orgasm leaving your rubbing your eyes having to get up and get cleaned “I have to learn to stop crying, I swear” you whisper aloud to yourself walking around the dressing room just cleaning yourself off with a complementary rag and looking at your disheveled appearance in the mirror making you sight, after all how could you not? This same scene replayed day after day with Dean and you knew it would continue to.

[playfully-sadistic]

Aww, you poor sweet thing, never had an authority figure treat you quite like you needed, now you're craving such an inappropriate one - a firm, guiding hand, someone to take away your responsibilities when you get overwhelmed with them, someone to tell you "I'll handle this", someone to make you shiver with their mere presence and the way they look at you.

Someone you can kneel down next to, a hand soothingly running through your hair, while they read a book and take a sip of their drink in between, the room filled with gentle quietness and peace, and - despite a long history of issues with authority - when they tell you to get up and fetch them a snack, you're perfectly conditioned to reply "Yes, Sir" and obey, like nothing's more natural to you.

[dlartistanon]

Interpersonal Rhine Lab relationships aren't escaping the unethical allegations

[venusandsaturnsrings]

you sighed heavily, zoning out on some of the elaborate wallpaper in front of you as your friend chattered on enthusiastically at your side.

last week, they had burst into your workplace with an expression so anxious you had thought something was seriously wrong. they went on to elaborate that famous director mr. reca was on penacony and having a surprise casting call and, as a member of the iris family, they just needed to go and audition but the idea of standing in front of such a well known face in the cinema world had them more panicked than they’d ever been before. whining endlessly about how they were so very nervous but couldn’t possibly miss such an opportunity, you easily picked up what exactly they wanted; you to go with them. sighing you offered your companionship partially as a good friend and partially to make the other workers stop glaring daggers, you finally chased them out the door as they promised to meet you at the studio on the weekend.

now in a long line of other actors and actresses hoping to finally get a breakthrough part, the number pinned hastily to your chest was starting to irritate you on top of not wanting to be here in the first place. agreeing so quickly was looking more like a mistake as you were realizing you had no experience or anything prepared and you’d soon be standing in front of a man who’d scrutinize your every move; a real nightmare in the dream.

it took a surprisingly short amount of time for your friend to be whisked away into the audition room with its heavy soundproof doors and you had to stand alone coming to terms with how much of a fool you’d look like. a brief thought of running flitted through your brain as you nervously tapped your foot but before any commitment to bolting could arise, you were ushered in.

the room was elegant but felt unbelievably sterile with the marble floors and delicate chandelier. behind a large wooden table stacked with folders, notes, and expensive looking pens was the man you dreaded explaining this predicament to. with piercing eyes and a predatory smile, mr. reca seemed unnervingly interested in what you’d go on to show him; nothing, unfortunately. you took your place in the centre of the room and awkwardly cleared your throat before dumping a word vomit of an apology and explanation filled with ‘i can’t act for shit,’ and ‘i’m sorry for wasting your time.’ he nodded with a low hum and seemed almost sympathetic as he tapped a finger against his lips while thinking.

“you’re here now and your… appearance… seemed perfectly suited to a personal project of mine i can’t seem to get out of my head,” his smile was unnerving in a way, “humour me and try out a couple poses at the least. such a role would come with magnificent compensation.” not the response you expected but you figured he was owed something for such a fumble. upon your agreement he had you shift into numerous positions that made your face flush with embarrassment but mr. reca seemed beyond pleased if his praise meant anything.

“magnificent. please, i’d love to have you star in a this minor film of mine. such a project will only take a few afternoons and i’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

it’s the next week when you’re at his home. he welcomes you with a neat suffocating hug and offers numerous snacks and drinks as a show of good will. it’s quite charming until he takes you to where he’s set up for the first scenes.

the room is dim, lit by ambient lighting only and silk ribbons drape across the room. in the middle is a bed covered in luxurious sheets and soft blankets with a table on each side holding a variety of lewd toys; your face is warm. mr. reca cheerfully points to every object explaining the purpose and how it’ll be used after fiddling with all the different locks on the door to successfully trap you in. suddenly you feel sweaty and your chest is tight as you shiver uncontrollably. his personal film was an adult film. he dangles the previously signed contract over your head with a promise to publicly humiliate you if you don’t, “strip and put on these pieces,” a lacy pair of panties and a bra that hides nothing. he’s throwing a pair of stockings at your chest as well before making some adjustments on his camera. with no choice, you change and pray that this will be over soon but the sinking feeling in your gut says otherwise when you see he’s undressing as well.

[eerna]

I need to find the person who decided Cait will go from a rich girl ashamed of her privilege and trying her best to make the world better, to someone who weaponizes her social and monetary capital for selfish goals that contribute to the oppression of the lower classes, the MOMENT she goes from heiress to leader. and give them an enormous kiss right on the mouth

[anetherealpoetess]

Neil Gaiman, let’s be realistic. A 21-year-old working in the home of a man four decades her senior cannot truly give meaningful consent to any type of sexual encounter, let alone within mere hours of meeting him. Even though you are denying it was not consensual, the fact you have conceded the sexual encounter did happen at all is a full confession. You are, by your own admission, a predator.

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝐬𝐭 - 𝐝𝐮𝐛 𝐜𝐨𝐧

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. reader needs to get out of a speeding ticket. (wc: 3.3k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x corrupt cop!Leon S. Kennedy, modern/no outbreak au, 18+ smut mdni, dark content, dub-con (power imbalance), ooc, flirting, dirty talk, degrading (slut and whore are used against the reader), unprotected sex, p in v, outdoor sex, bending over, and cum. -> you have been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You had been in your own little world, lost in thought, with the monotony of the highway lulling you into a kind of reverie, unaware of the exact numbers that were ticking up on your speedometer. You were driving back from work—another gruelling day—and were exhausted, unable to think with enough clarity as you watched the ribbon of an empty road stretching out before you. The muted hum of your car engine blended into the sounds of the night with the occasional car driving past and overtaking you, your atmosphere filled with dotted streetlamps and headlights being the only light source to illuminate the motorway. 

Your mind was blank, going into autopilot as you continued to push down on the pedal and go toward home, as you always did. That pathway was the quickest; very little went on through here besides the occasional animal that darted across the street or a street being closed off during long reconstruction processes. However, those were the only problems until you saw the red and blue lights flashing behind you in the rearview mirror. 

At first, you didn’t think those lights and sirens were for you, thinking it was just for the person ahead—until you were flashed with the cruiser signalling you to pull over. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach as you noticed the signal, thinking it was a mistake until your gaze lowered to the speedometer. 

“Fuck,” you whispered through your teeth as you noticed how above the speed limit you were. 

A slight tremor passed through your fingers as you slowed down, indicating before pulling up to a complete stop until you noticed in the side-view mirror and saw it was a male office—easy. You saw him step out of the car, striding over and managing to get a view of his frame as his dusted blonde hair fell on the framing of his face; when he was walking further up, you noticed that face—this guy had to be a rookie. You could make that assumption with his soft features, and he seemed near enough your age; to your naivety, you thought this would just be a simple unbuttoning of the blouse and squishing your arms together to show a subtle amount of cleavage and drop your voice into a silky octave to convince him to let you off with a warning. 

The officer was approaching—taking his time—with his gait deliberate and slow enough to add anticipation and a tremor within your beating heart; you took the opportunity to unbutton the top two buttons on your silky blouse, puffing up your hair for some volume and getting ready to plead your innocence to the rookie. When he reached your window, he bent down just slightly, his presence a bit too close for comfort when you noticed his blue gaze staring into you, his badge now gleaming in the dim light, the sound of his fingers tapping against the window of your car. You quickly pressed the hard button and lowered your window, quickly giving him an innocent and sweet look. 

“Do you know how fast you were going, Miss? " His voice was almost fatigued. He was clearly exhausted like you were from having to be at work at night. 

You blinked, remembering to keep up that innocent but seductive look as you pushed your arms together a bit more—but his gaze didn’t lower; he looked unimpressed more than anything. 

“No officer… I’m sorry, was I speeding?” you had a soft tone in the traces of your syllables, hoping to god that he would take it in as your fingertips drummed on your skirt-covered thighs. 

He chuckled, but not one of humour, one that was devoid of humour and more condescending than anything. His eyes were sharp and calculating as he watched your face, then starting to lower with the flicker of his blue gaze trailing from your strawberry hue lips to your exposed collarbones and soft, subtle cleavage—he had seen this trick one too many times by now, but it was always fun to watch people try. Especially when the person trying was as pretty as you were, maybe he could have a bit of fun with this.

“You were over the limit. " His voice was smooth, with a layer of something that made you uneasy, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on the feeling—at least, not just yet. 

You could only continue to plead your innocence with a small and apologetic smile, trying your best to defuse the situation. 

“I must have lost track, officer. I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking… a stressful day at work, you see.” 

His smirk widened a little too much: “Hm, well, you need to handle your “stressful days” at work better than speeding, Miss. " He talked down to you, making your heart quicken, and the hot liquid pulsate through your veins as you felt your body start to go cold at his piercing stare. 

You brushed your fingers through your hair, flashing another sweet smile; this was too amusing to him, but all he could think about was how he was glad an attractive girl like you was pulling the trick, giving him a chance to let off some steam with someone he could actually find easy on the eyes. 

“Look, officer, I am extremely sorry I just—”

“Trying to flirt your way out of a ticket.”

Shit.

“No, no, I—”

“I haven’t been in the job long, Miss, but it’s the oldest trick in the book; you think because you’re young, you can flash a pretty smile and think I’m going to blush and warn you.” 

Busted. This would not be good; it was another payment on a whole load of debt you had accumulated since you tried to be an independent adult after college. 

You gave a defeated sigh, your head kicking back on the headrest. 

“License and registration, please miss.” 

You opened up the cabinet of the car and gave your documents to him, your stomach lurching as he snatched them away from you in a quick motion, turning his blinding white flashlight onto the information and a quick look at you. 

To his delight at the confirmation, when the flashlight was pulled to your squinting eyes, you weren’t too bad to look at, not like the other girls who desperately flirted to get out of a ticket and had nothing to show; you were quite attractive, just his type—attractive and desperate. He handed them back to you and leaned in closer, his arm resting on the edge of your window as his face was inches away from you, making a lump form in your throat as your lip quivered momentarily, terrified of the ticket that was going to be written and cause more impending debt on your government name. The air between you two felt suddenly thick enough to slide through, and your chest steadily fell and rose as your breathing quickened. That anxiety was charged with something unspoken. 

“Hm,” he breathed out, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Actually, I’m kind of glad I stopped you now,” a smirk forming a curved and sinister shape on his lips. You grossly misjudged this guy for a normal rookie. 

“Oh, um, why’s that? " you said with an awkward smile, your tone of voice now slightly heightened in pitch. 

“It gives me something nice to look at on my work shift,” he squinted his eyes at you with his smile, taking your form in further; his tone had a suggestive but sharp edge, and it was far from playful, innocent flirting. 

You just expected to do some innocent flirting, wanting to get away with a warning by flashing a sweet smile and putting a fake number in his notebook with the last two digits being swapped so you wouldn’t have to see him again. But you felt your stomach twist, feeling a cold chill run through your spine and making goosebumps along your soft skin in trepidation’s wake. 

He didn’t move for a bit, his body looming over yours as his eyes roamed around your face, looking at the shade and shape of your eyes, the way your eyelashes were formerly batting when trying to act all guilt-free, looking at the bridge of your nose, and the red tip from the cold night, then slowly going to the blouse that had been unbuttoned by two small buttons, so subtle, but enough to get him excited about you. You wanted to flirt, and you would get the consequences of that now. 

“I can… I can take that ticket, officer. I understand. I should have been paying attention,” you stuttered in a shaking tone as he continued to look at you from head to toe in the car, not minding the debt when seeing how that stare was drilling and piercing through you. 

“A ticket? No, I don’t think we need to go through that route.” he tilted his head, his smirk deepening in its curve as it made a dimple in his cheeks that sinisterly creased. 

“But, as you said, officer, the flirting trick wasn’t going to work, and I need the consequence, with a ticket,” you couldn’t help but let out a short and breathy, awkward laugh as you tried to defuse the anxiety that was pooling in the pit of your stomach, your heart pounding against its chamber like it was starting to come alive and run away from its designated place. 

“True but… I don’t mind if you flirt.” 

“What’s with the change of heart... Honestly, officer, I’m really sorry and—”

“Aw, are you scared now… Don’t like it when the game goes against you, do you?” he whispered, coming too close for comfort as your heart continued to thump against your ribcage, that pounding drilling into your eardrums and begging that someone drives past, or that he just gives up, you didn’t want a ticket but that smirk was making you feel uneasy, why couldn’t you just flash a pretty smile and get this over and done with. “I’ll give you a choice... To make it fair on you I suppose, you can either be given a ticket… which will cost a pretty penny… and judging by the material of that blouse and the type of car you’re driving, I’m sure you don’t have the money... Or you could get out of the car and… Let’s see how well your flirting can get you out of trouble, yeah?” 

His smile made your skin crawl, with his hand resting on the roof of your car and his strong gaze trying to coax you out of the safe refuge of your car walls; his other hand had drumming fingers against the window frame in a lazy rhythm, similar to that of a ticking clock, to show your time was wasting and needed to make a decision—now. 

He wasn’t wrong about not having the money; it’s the way you endured your boring and unfilling job just barely to afford the bare minimum with a lack of support; you looked at his face, and despite the skin-crawling effect, his smile was starting to have, he wasn’t unattractive, he was quite hot if he didn't have that creepy tinge to all his words, it wouldn’t be too bad to play his game? You could get out of some money, but at the very most, you might need to kiss him. Right? 

You cleared your throat, fighting with yourself to keep your voice nice and steady: “I… I guess I could come out.” 

“Great choice.” 

You unbuckled your seatbelt, hearing the metallic click outside, and felt his stare pierce right through you as he watched you stop outside, watching you shudder as you felt the winter air across your skin and cause your goosebumps to harden on your skin. He watched your standing figure, taking in how your cheap clothes hugged onto your curves and looking at every slope of your feminine shape; his eyes certainly gleamed with approval and a hint of glistening arousal that shined in the blue of his eyes as he looked upon you. 

“Hm, not bad,” he muttered to himself with his fingers on his chin, that smirk on his face like a cat looking at a mouse to play with, measuring and sizing you up as you stood there, suffocating on the tension between you two in the cold winter air. 

His suggestive stance hung in the air like smoke, clinging to your lungs. The road was empty, and only the sound of the swishing wind and rolling tyres was miles away from your location. To your disappointment, this pathway didn’t have many people pass it, which was good for avoiding traffic but awful when you were stuck in a situation like this. 

You forced a tight smile as a wrinkle formed on your smile lines, your mind racing but that part of your brain trying to keep calm, focusing on your drumming heartbeat. But his smirk was still frozen in place, his eyes locking up as he weighed out his options. He slowly straightened up and moved closer to you, removing any distance that was between you—his fingers now trailing on your jawline. 

“Keep your eye contact; it’s rude not to pay attention,” he said nonchalantly, his freezing fingertips tracing the line of your soft skin, looking at your features up close. “Be a good girl and bend over the car for me.”

“What? Am I being arrested?” you quickly blurted out of panic, your blood running hot through your veins. 

“No, no, relax… Just follow instructions, and you’ll be on your way home in no time.” 

As you hesitantly put your hands on the cold hood of your car, you deeply swallowed that lump that was forming in your throat, connecting your thudding heart in your chest to the freezing metallic of your car hood as you were left vulnerable with your ass pushed out—it felt so demeaning. However, while your mind was running on overdrive, Leon was measuring you up like a snake ready to devour, no longer stifling over the anxiety of what his thoughts and impulses were going to lead up to; if anyone knew what he was doing, he would soon lose his badge and his reputation… but who was here to stop him? Certainly not you; you weren’t going to be stupid enough to put yourself into more debt than you needed, and who would believe that innocent rookie cop Leon would ever do such a thing—the perks of having a sweet face, you could get away with anything.

He continued to watch you surreptitiously, taking in how your thighs were shaking; he soon coaxed a sharp gasp as he pressed his crotch against the fat of your ass, rubbing his trousered cock on your skirt and watching you shake, practically squirming against him as you whined pitifully. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this. You can just accept the ticket, and I’ll leave you alone,” he teased in that tantalising and condescending tone. He knew you didn’t have a real choice, but it was fun to plead the case of ‘but you could have left’. 

While you were settled down, you felt his hands smooth over your ass, biting your bottom lip as you looked behind you. 

“Oh, what’s this? No,” he continued with that tone that made you feel like a pathetic puddle underneath him, “I think you like this, don’t you?” he brought his vision to your bitten lip and the way you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, clouded by desire, and shame. 

He wasn’t exactly wrong, and you hated to admit that to yourself or him, but you couldn’t deny that you felt your nipples hardening against the hood of the car and felt your cunt start to tighten whenever his tented pants were rutting against your ass; you were ashamed of yourself, but… you wanted him. 

“Didn’t think I would be stopping a complete slut,” he muttered under his breath, but enough for you to hear as his hands were hiking up your skirt, and seeing the soaked patch on your panties from behind, making him scoff out a condescending laugh. “My, you are pathetic, aren’t you, getting wet for a guy who wants to use you… How endearing,” he practically purred as he bent down and whispered the end part in your ear, leaving a teasing bite on your earlobe and making you suck in a short and cold breath, your pants showing up in fogged-up clouds in the winter night. 

“Hm, I like you,” he continued to whisper as he jerked down your panties, the rough and thick lace fabric pulling down your skin and causing you to wince, “don’t worry, you’re in very, very good hands,” he cooed as he watched your glistening cunt tighten in the cold, slowly unzipping his pants and letting his throbbing erection spring out, before slowly rubbing it against your soaking slit. 

“Oh my god~” you moaned out. 

“How much do you wanna avoid that ticket, huh?” he teased as he pushed the fat head of his cock in and out of your needy hole, making you anticipate when he was going to fully push his whole length in and make you his needy little whore. 

“Mm, so much, officer,” you whimpered out through your quivering speech. 

He absorbed every word and whimper as he kept making you plead continuously, “I couldn’t hear you…Speak up; do sluts not know how to use their words now?” god, he was such a jerk, but this jerk was making you soaking wet and begging for a sweet release; you didn’t even care that you were avoiding a ticket, all you cared about was the fact you wanted to cum all over that cock. 

“Please,” you finally hissed out. 

“Good job looks like you can use your words,” before you could interject or plead anymore, he finally rammed his whole length inside of you, forcing a loud and pornographic groan to protrude out of your glossy lips, your eyes rolling up and up until he was making you see blurred stars as you felt his bare cock rut against your spasming and tight walls, feeling dumb as he continued to make you his slut. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned out with his fingers deepening onto the fat of your hips, “oh such a needy little slut, all to get out of a ticket,” his breath hitched as he felt your walls tighten and clasp around his length tighter the more he spoke to you. 

“Ah~ ah~ ah~,” your eyes were so far up that anyone would just see the whites of your eyes, with that stupid and dazed smile as your lips were parted in your moans, taking it, and shamefully… loving every bit. “More, more, more,” you groaned out through your chewed lip, knowing this was so wrong, but hey, at least you were getting out of a ticket and was getting the best fuck you had gotten in a while as well. 

“Oh, your cunt is perfect, such a pretty pussy. I love ruining it.” He kept missing out his condescending and vile words down at you, practically gasping when he felt your pouty lips dribble down your juices over his shaft. “Oh, you fucking whore,” he moaned out as he kicked his head back, loving how you were just wrapped out his little finger, feeling his climax soon to come with his eyelids fluttering and his nails digging into your skin, enough to leave crescent moon shape indents on your hips, his balls slapping against your skin and tightening with every second he was getting closer to grasping at his high. 

He groaned when he finally met it, pulling out and shooting his thick load onto your skirt; your favourite skirt was going to have to go to the washing machine after this, but you didn’t care about that with how good you felt. 

As you were pulling up your panties and pulling your skirt back down, standing up in your breathless and panting state, you were left with confusion when he pulled his notebook out. 

“Number now, and while you are at it, put your name there as well; I’d like to whisper it in your ear the next time you beg for me.

taglist: @elfven-blog @porcelainseashore -> if you want to be tagged in my works here is my taglist [x], and if you want to be deleted from it just message me privately.

a/n: woop woop the first post of kinktober! I hope you enjoyed this and stick around for what I have planned, if you're interested I do have a 'kinktober 2024' in my pinned post so you can see what is coming up, and my taglist is open for people you want to be tagged in my works from everything to something very specific they're looking for. Happy kinktober, and I hope you have fun here *mwah mwah*

[esthercore]

Cw: Mild Dacryphilia, Gn Reader! Oral, Size kink, dom/sub, a bit non-withdrawable consent if you squint, user has a crush on Capitano, power play

Telling you, I won't slow down, won't slow down Girl, you gotta know right now, there's no way out Imma pull the trigger off And imma let these bullets talk

Capitano glared down at the little soldier in training standing in front of him, their eyes red from crying so hard, cheeks and nose flushed too, the makeshift tent filled with the noise of their sobs.

"Tears will do you no favor, this is the outcome of your own incompetency," he said, yet the way his pants tighten around him crotch by the sound of your pathetic noises.

Silly thing trying fight off some treasure hoarders who tried to meddle with the fatui cargo you were help shipping, only to ruin the supplies yourself, by falling over them. Your posture all wrong, can't even hold a sword properly, yet tried to be a hero just for his attention.

And you did get his attention, alright, especially from his dick who takes a special interest how perfect you look, especially when crying.

"Why not make up to me then, cadet?"

"Ho-"

His finger laid against your lips shushing you, so gentle, as he leaned down so that your forehead can touch the cold metal of his helmet, his hand cupping your face, lightly brushing away the tear stains, "Just be a good doll for me"

His hand patted your head lightly before lightly pushing you down, guiding you to your knees, leaning a bit back, his torso moving ahead, so his clothed dick rub against your face.

Looking up at him for approval, you gained a strong tap on your chin, "Hands on knees, no more waiting." So you followed, hands pressed down, lowering his zipper with your teeth, only to be greeted by the unholiest length in Tevyat, gasping out loud. His pretty uncut cock very thick, and long, veins all visible and the slight up tilt on the tip, oozing out trickles of pre cum on your parted lips.

Tired of your slow pace, he positioned hi hand on the back of your head, pushing it on his cock, making you gag at the sudden intrusion in your throat, causing you to slap his thigs as a reflex, eyes watering again, earning a sharp pull on your hair, forcing his cock deeper in your throat.

"If you can't be useful if the field might as well use your pretty body for something." God how he loved they tears rolling down your cheeks, "Don't act like you haven't been dreaming about this for month, I'm not blind if you aren't aware."

Silly thing want to crush on him? He had all the rumors about you moaning his name in your nightly 'self-care', they way you look at him like he's a god, they way you are unable to not blush around him. A warrior must be observant after all, he notice the way your body moves, how pretty you look while doing anything and everything, how much you are not suitable for the cruel battle grounds, how desperately you need someone to take care of you.

How suitable you are to stand alongside him in public, and how pretty below him in bed, all his to indulge in.

Well if you want him so bad then get ready to be the best cocksleeve in Tevyat and he happily be yours for the eternity, no take backs.

Wrote this honor of him invading my dreams last night, hoping he come or cum back.

[angelyuji]

…you can see i have a favorite twin

tw // kidnapping, power imbalance, implied noncon in stan’s part, yandere themes

18+ :)

yandere ford where hes hyper paranoid and freaked out about bill coming back, so he kidnaps you and keeps you trapped in the shack/basement of the shack. the kids and stan know hes being crazy, but “grunkle ford is just worried and scared for u and he really really needs you” so they let him keep you. ☹️☹️

yandere stan who abuses his role as boss at the mystery shack to make u do whatever he asks. especially since wendys in college and the kids are in california, no ones around to stop him or help you. soos thinks the world of stan, so he’s not going to believe you. buying you a tight, short uniform, making you come in early and close late, he’ll call you into his office just to tell you to pick something up of the floor for him, slowly leading up to him bending you over on his desk and teaching you exactly how to treat your oh-so-kind boss☺️☺️

[sugurouge]

— diabolic waltz : getō suguru x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, dubcon/noncon, yandere themes, size difference, strength difference, corruption, power dynamics/imbalance (reader refers to geto as master), pet names (doll, whore, toy, bunny, little one), hair pulling, water torture/forced drowning/waterboarding, punishment, deep throating, mind break, degradation

summary: You should know better than to behave greedy or entitled, but if he so sweetly entices you to misbehave, even the impeding punishment doesn't stop you from taking what you need. Until it's time to pay up. And Getō makes sure you always pay your debts.

wordcount: 2k | my kinktober masterlist

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

Geto rests comfortably in his armchair, dark purple eyes rake over your needy body—only hidden beneath a layer of satin. With you in his lap, there is at least a sort of solace to his tiresome days. He likes to view you as a sick way of rewarding himself, his prize for making it through another 24 hours. Hence why you're always kept on display whenever it's just the two of you. Him and his property, the weak human that somehow won his twisted interest. Nothing more than eye candy for him. You're so pretty until you turn needy and start talking too much.

"Master, please—" you start your advances all over again. Ever so prettily as your nails drag over Geto's exposed chest; you have long since pushed aside the layers of his attire.

Geto heaves a heavy sigh. It's his first indicator for you to shut your pretty mouth before he sends curses your way. Yet, simultaneously, he can't resist the torture; cannot keep his right leg from bouncing to cause friction against your puffy lips. Teasing you further to hear more whimpers instead of your actual voice.

Your hands press against his body as you try to control the bouncing, but the friction created by your dress brushing against your nipples makes it impossible to form coherent or cautious thoughts. Your legs clench around Geto's muscular thigh, attempting to maintain the pleasurable feeling.

"You really wish to bother me like that right now?" His dangerously low voice challenges. Suguru is well aware that he is the cause of your distress, but would he ever admit that? Not in a million lifetimes.

You know full well what will happen if you say yes, how your day will turn out if you give in to your own neediness when your master isn't the one to initiate. Your glossy orbs beg him without another word spilling from your lips as you nod.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You're just so dumb; how could he not adore you? The minor tilt of his head gives you the okay to shed your dress, to expose your perfectly clean body to his eyes. It's one of his priorities, to always have his doll look prim and proper. Soft and dewy skin, rose oil spoiling your figure to make it shine in the low afternoon light and envelop you in faux innocence for him to ruin.

You sink down to your knees right between his legs, your delicate fingers running over his muscular thighs up to his stomach, but the "tsk" coming from Geto's lips has you freeze immediately. Doe eyes look up at his intimidating stare, while his entire face remains stoic—almost bored, as he rests his cheek in one of his palms.

"Hand or thigh, no cock," he bluntly states.

You try to suppress the whine rising in your throat, try not to furrow your brows at his statement.

"Well, what will it be, bunny?"

He doesn't actually ask. Geto simply enjoys oversaturating your lusty mind with difficult decisions. You're always so afraid he will leave you.

"Hand, please, please," you bat your lashes at him even though you're painfully aware of how little effect it has on him. Yet he pats his thigh, indicating for you to sit on his lap once again. Your body follows suit.

"Any other wishes?" Narrowed eyes stare at you, they make you feel small and vulnerable as his hand dances along your thigh, drawing close to your needy pussy.

Your eyes snap down to his dishevelled clothes, raking over the layers of fabric that hide his perfect body from your gaze and touch.

You inhale sharply the moment his fingers snap you out of your thoughts, penetrating your walls deeply without warning and immediately curling against your clamping muscles. Yes, Geto might be okay with listening to your begs once in a while, but his pleasure lies in overwhelming your pathetic body, not preparing you softly.

Your head lolls back, fingers holding onto his shoulders, though they twitch to run through his black strands. You are well aware of the fact that he'd never let you ruin his hair.

Soft moans spill from your parted lips. He taught you to stay quiet, to not ruin his image of you—his sweet doll.

Yet the feeling is too good. The way his fingers stretch your cunt, your slick dripping down over his digits and palm. Your hips roll against his hand, pretty whines causing your chest to heave so perfectly for Geto to enjoy the sight of your tits.

He adds a third finger with ease and uses his thumb to draw intricate patterns on your clit, applying more pressure on the nub once he feels you tighten around him. "Such a needy whore..." he mumbles impassively.

But his cold voice, the boredom laced in his words mixed with his brutal ministrations, are exactly what you've grown to love from your master. It's so clear that you're doing something wrong, that you're messing up his perfect routine—but you just can't help it.

Your whines grow louder, small fingers now gripping onto his wrist as the coil in your stomach tightens further and further before it explodes. You fall forward, against Geto's chest, covering his neck area with moans, tears, and sweat as you gush all over his hand and dirty his robes.

Goosebumps run over your heavenly skin, clearly proving how overwhelmingly good he can make you cum with just his hand by now.

"Disgusting..."

You flinch slightly at that, eyes squeezing shut from just one word coming from Geto. He pulls his hand out of your tight cavern, your slick clearly coating his skin as a scowl spreads on his face. "You enjoy this? Staining me with your slutty needs?"

You create some distance between your bodies, shamefully staring at his hand before your eyes trail over his tainted clothes. You didn't plan on this happening, didn't plan to make such a mess, especially not over him, but why does he have to be this good?

Being a disappointment still has the same effect on you as it did from the start, causing tears to spill from your eyes as your body starts to shiver. "'M sorry, I didn’t—I wanted—"

"Time for a bath, no?" he sighs and gets up, pushing your smaller body off his lap with little care as disgust is clearly painted on his features.

Your butt meets the hardwood flooring and you try frantically to stop the tears from running down your face. Pleading ever-so sweetly with a shaky voice for your "Master..." to have mercy.

The clacking of his shoes stops the moment he stands beside your body once again. Long fingers card through your locks before he kneels beside you and tugs at your roots.

"How much longer are you going to make me wait, little one, hm?"

The sting on your scalp rips you out of your struggling mind; it forces you to rely on your instincts if you want to get out of this unscathed tonight. "Forgive me," you whisper.

So incredibly cute.

Geto takes a deep breath, eyes running over your body as he hums. "Five minutes."

You nod in perfect understanding and immediately grab your gown before hurrying over to the bathroom.

Aftercare is important, he always tells you. And aftercare you shall give him.

So you let water fill the spacious bathtub, let the most expensive bubble bath fill the room with a soothing scent as you light candles to set the mood and welcome Suguru in.

You stand in front of his large frame, looking up at his face to grant you permission to undress him, carefully undoing the ties of his gown before letting the heavy garments hit the floor. You will wash them as well.

Only his briefs aren't yours to touch as he walks past you and finishes undressing himself before he sinks into the warm bathwater.

You watch him the entire time—how he leans back against the expensive porcelain of the tub, arms resting around the rim—looking oh so inviting. His eyes meet your gaze, appreciating your obedient state as he slightly tilts his head to make your body move.

You follow his silent order, going down on your knees right behind his back, cool fingertips carefully reaching out to lie on his tensed back.

The stark difference in temperature makes Geto hiss in annoyance, slightly flinching out of your reach as he glares over his shoulder. You are quick now to rub your hands together, mumbling your apologies before trying to touch him once again.

Small fingers soothe his skin, spoiling his muscles. You always start with his shoulders, using a sponge to have the warm water coat his exposed back and chest, massaging the well-trained area until his breathing calms down and little groans escape his throat.

Only then do you move on to kneel next to him, carefully admiring his relaxed features—he looks almost angelic. So calm, almost innocent.

Until his eyes meet yours and he holds out his hand to you. The exact hand he used to make you cum and that was tainted with your juices.

You focus on it, carefully massaging his fingers and ‘cleaning’ him further. "Good little doll..." Suguru breathes his praise out between his soft lips. It's usually the only compliment you receive, so you make sure to savour it.

You smile gently and finish up your care of his hand until he takes it out of your hold. He brushes your hair out of your face, leading his hand to reach around the back of your neck as you bend over the bathtub, nails digging painfully into your scalp while being pulled forward to be met with the bathwater.

You squeeze your eyes shut immediately, trying desperately to keep your lips sealed as you're pushed beneath the surface. Your nails grab onto the porcelain of the tub, weak muscles trying desperately to stop him from shoving you down further, but it's to no avail. He's much stronger than you'll ever be.

Geto lifts your head back up out of the water, and you suck the air back into your lungs—which quickly mixes with the bathwater as he dunks your head down again.

Your screaming is drowned by the transparent liquid all around you.

It becomes a loop—the pain of him tugging at your roots, being met with the cold air of the bathroom before he pushes you down again.

It becomes a loop—the pain of him tugging at your roots, the cold air of the bathroom meeting your skin before he pushes you down again. Your mind loses focus, your fight grows mellow until he pushes his erect cock between your lips. It jolts you back awake. Not only are you drowning in the water, but you also have his thick shaft infiltrating your mouth. Tears mix with the water, nails digging into his abs and thighs as your attempts to scream vibrate along his cock.

Geto groans. His eyes roll into their sockets as he completely relishes the feeling of your convulsing throat around his member—all while in the comfort of his bathtub. But he has to stop. Sadly, at some point, he remembers you’re not actually a doll. Your body grows slack, and the struggling of your throat diminishes.

Only then does he pull your head out of the water, letting your body slump over the edge of the tub as he slaps your cheeks until you wake up. Your head pounds as you choke up water; it almost feels like someone is ripping your lungs apart.

“Stupid toy…” Geto mumbles, already dragging your head down and forward again.

“No, no, please, not again!” you frantically plead, and he stops—stops right before the surface of the water meets the tip of your nose.

“Why not? I made you cum how you wanted to as well, didn’t I?” he analytically proclaims. “Now suck like I taught you.”

The sting of the water is maddening; only the stretch of his cock against the back of your mouth inflicts more pain upon your body as he guides you up and down with water infiltrating your lungs.

It all becomes a blur in the end, and it’s hard to tell what is real and what a bad dream when you wake up the next morning in your soft king-sized bed, dressed in one of his favourite baby dolls, and his strong arms around you.

dividers by @/cafekitsune