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#except i hate white monster
emdotcom · 10 months
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Making ppl behold my shiny pokemon recolors.
Shout out to @lightkrets312 for input & advice on the Mismagius :uu
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written-in-flowers · 18 days
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Their Pretty Pet: Sanhwajoong x Fem!reader
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Pairing: Incubus!Hongjoong, Incubus!Seonghwa, Incubus!San x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairings: SanHwaJoong
Genre: smut, loads of it MINORS DNI
Word Count: 7k
Summary: Being brought before Lords of Inferno, you expected to be killed on the spot, except the three incubi take an extreme liking to you instead. You are the pet they've been looking for, and you should could yourself lucky.
Tags: Master/Slave relationship, polyamory, mmmxf, foursome sex, triple penetration, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving), rough oral sex, vaginal fingering, handjobs, pet names ("pretty" "pet" "whore" "slut" "bitch" "kitten" "darling" and variations/ "master" "my lord") monster fucking, demon fucking, belly bulging, bigdick!ateez, creampies, massive creampies, degradation, slight humiliation, slight dumbification, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, rough sex, bisexual sex, breeding kink, vibrating demon dick, spanking, nipple play, breast play, cum swallowing, deep throating, anal sex.
@pirateeznet
His Darling: San
His Kitten: Seonghwa
His Pet: Hongjoong
***
The nerves rattled your bones, and weakened your knees. Your mind told your feet to keep up with Rufus, but your body did not cooperate. Only by the tug of a chain did you finally move. Even with the hot steam coming from the stone cracks, and the warm air blowing through the night, a cold sweat came over you. You had no business coming up the Black Keep. Sinners like you are meant to be an amusement for the lower demons; you committed sins in your life that earned you a spot in the third level of Hell. You spent eternity in the brothels of the inner circle, being a pleasure slave to anyone with enough coin. 
You’d learned high class only pays for well bred slaves or lesser demon forms. The ones trained in the finer arts, who can speak multiple languages, can do magic, and are skilled in instruments of culture and torture. You only learned the sexual practices Your clients and owners taught you. 
They won't want you, and the moment they realize what you are, you're dead. 
“Stop dawdling, wretch,” Rufus, a large, muscular demon with bright red skin and tall black horns, tugged on your chain harshly. He then growled when you did not move. “Lords do not wait on bottom dwellers like you.”
You said nothing as you forced yourself to move. In your flimsy shift, you could feel every brush of hot air blow past you. It normally did not bother you, but it felt hard to breathe through your tight chest. He guided you to the tall wooden doors with their gargoyle head knockers. In three loud slams of the knocker, the door creaked open. On the other side stood a very tall man with black hair parted to the side. He wore a black and white suit and gloves. Round eyes carried a certain haughtiness that you'd grown used to seeing. 
“Can I help you?” He asked. 
“Evening, I have come to see The Masters Hongjoong, Seonghwa and San. I have brought a prospective pet for them,” Rufus responded, tugging your chain to bring you closer. 
The butler took one look at you, then stood aside. “Very well. Follow me. They are just finishing with another proprietor.”
Rufus didn't like the idea of another slave owner being in the castle. It meant competition, and he hated that. He, as always, took it out on you by roughly pulling on your leash. The butler led you through a hall of black and white marble, surrounded by landscape paintings and other ancient possessions. A candlelit chandelier hung from the high ceiling, bathing the room in a bright golden glow. The carpet liners on the floor felt soft beneath your feet, and the castle did not feel as hot inside. He took you around the staircase into an adjacent hallway, where you saw her. 
A succubus and her handler left the room; the handler seething and the succubus in silent tears. From her expensive lace and satin halter dress to her gold sandals, to the golden ornaments in her hair, you knew a succubus when you saw one. She had real horns and a real tail. Rufus paid a stylist to braid and glue ram horns into your head; then he paid a leatherworker to create a realistic tail to seal on your tailbone. The braiding pained your scalp, the glue made you nauseous, and the tail swished uncomfortably. How long did Rufus think this charade will last? Long enough for him to run off with the money, no doubt. You hated thinking of what would happen when your “owners” find out you’re not a demon at all. They’ll tear you apart, and send you to the deepest pits where the worst of the worst suffer an eternity of torment. 
The thought terrified you. 
“Masters,” the butler said when he entered a sitting room, “Another slave owner has arrived with a prospect for you.”
The voice inside the room turned quiet. “Who?” asked a particularly high voice. 
The butler turned to Rufus, “Name?”
“Rufus, from the House of Kisses.”
The butler repeated this to his masters. “Bring him in,” the voice finally said. 
Rufus brought you into the room. Full of warm light, pricy decorations, and extravagant furniture, you'd never been amongst such opulence before. Three loveseats sat in the middle of the room around a square coffee table. A different man sat on each one. You knew they were incubi by the small curved horns on the crown of their heads. Demons of lust carried this trait, as well as long black tails to match. The petite man with hair the color of fresh cherries spotted you first. He casually drank from a brandy glass as he observed you. His satin black shirt and slacks gave him a trendy look that would kill in the living world. 
Beside him in the center on the white couch sat a long-limbed man with black hair reaching his shoulders. Angular features gave him a deadly appearance that matched the glint in his dark eyes. The cream colored shirt he wore was kept together by a matching corset and pants. He didn’t look up at first, since he focused mainly on the book in his lap instead. 
The third sat on a couch of dark blue cotton with gold pillows. His big shoulders stretched the blazer he wore, which you noticed covered nothing but his bare chest. Sculpted and tan, he was to die for. 
And you just might when they learn the truth. 
“Slaver,” the butler addressed Rufus, “May I present Lords Hongjoong,” he gestured to the red haired man, “Seonghwa,” he motioned to the man holding the book, “And San.”
“Well met, my lords.”
“Well, well, well,” Hongjoong said in a bored voice, knocking back the rest of his drink, “Look, Brothers, another slaver coming to waste our time.” 
“Oh, no, my lord,” Rufus said, “I promise your time will not be wasted on this one.”
“Why is that?” asked Seonghwa, putting his book aside. 
“This one here's a true blood succubus,” he said, already putting on his salesman voice. “Born and bred in the valley, she is a true born demon. She's nothing like the half-breeds and soulless human shells those other charlatans bring before you. See here, my lords?” He roughly pulled you to them by your horn, “These are real succubus horns! And this tail!” He yanked on your long, thin tail, “Is entirely her own. I know some slavers have been sticking on fake parts, but I assure you, my lords, this one's the real thing!”
The three men looked at one another, then back to him. “Bring her closer.”
Rufus pulled you over to them, letting you stand in the warm firelight. Three pairs of eyes stripped off your dress, and peeled back the layers of your skin to your soul. San's thin eyes fell heavy when he saw you fully. Seonghwa held you with intrigue, while Hongjoong looked ready to devour you. You gulped thickly and did not look at any of them directly.
“What can you do?” Hongjoong asked. 
“Do, my lord?”
“Yes, do. Can you speak any languages besides the common tongue?”
“No.”
“Can you read and write?”
“Some.”
“Can you sing?”
“No.”
“Dance?”
“No.”
“Do you specialize in any form of magic?”
“No.”
The more he asked, the dumber you felt. You wanted to tell them to look at you. You are not a demon, let alone a succubus. 
“Then what can you do?” He asked, laughing softly. 
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said, “Stop being so mean. It's not her fault.” He stood up and walked towards you. Lifting your head by the chin, he said, “The only thing these low born succubi are taught is how to suck cock…isn't that right, pet?”
“Yes,” you squeaked. 
“And can you do that?”
“She certainly can, my lord!” Rufus said from behind, “YN is one of my best! She's made men cum in less than two minutes!”
“I was asking her,” the man snapped. “I personally have no interest in slaves who do quick, sloppy work. I like to take my time.” He touched a strand of your hair, feeling the texture and taking in the length. “You'll need good grooming,” he noted flatly. “Luckily, Wooyoung is an expert in his field. He'll make you shine, little pet.”
It happened then, or at least you think it did. A flicker of realization hit Seonghwa as he looked over your face. He gave an audible sniff, his demon senses beginning to tingle. Yet, he said nothing about it, and turned your head to examine you in the light. 
“Can she fight?” San asked Rufus. 
“Psh, can she fight?” He scoffed comically at the question, “Of course she can! She used to be a pit fighter in-”
“-Can you fight?” He turned to you. 
“No.” 
“Why would she need to learn how to fight, San?” Hongjoong asked, annoyed. The butler came around to refill his drink. “She won't be doing any of that. She could get badly damaged, and then where would we be, hm?”
“Do you like going to the arena?” San asked, ignoring Hongjoong. 
“I've never been there.”
San nodded, then leaned back on his couch and held out his glass. The butler poured more brown liquid for him, and you watched him take a drink. 
“Yunho,” Seonghwa left you by the fireplace and went to his couch, “What do you think of her?”
“Master?” Yunho asked, confused. 
“Yes, what do you think of her? You'll be around her too. Is she pleasing to look at in your opinion?”
Yunho turned to you, and seemed to be really looking at you now. He scanned over your horns the most. They’re meant to look like his, curled and rolled back from his face. If anyone could spot fake ones, it should be him. You expected him to out you, but he instead said, “Yes. She is lovely.”
The three men appear to take this into account. “Take off your dress,” Hongjoong orders. 
“Well, hold on now, my lord,” Rufus begins to say, “We haven't discussed-”
“-I am not paying for something without inspecting it myself,” Hongjoong glared at Rufus. The ghoulish demon falters at this, and you see him back away. Hongjoong turned back to you, “Your dress. Take it off.”
You immediately unclip the back of your dress and let the top half fall over your belt. The sight of your breasts stunned the three men. Their eyes focused on them before you loosened your belt and let the rest of your clothes fall. Seonghwa bit the corner of his lip, trying to control his breathing as his eyes fell between your thighs. This is not the first time customers examine you. You’d grown used to it over the years of being in Hell. You are a toy to be played with. You are not your own anymore. You lost that when you began your life of lust, greed and overindulgence. When presented with the option to continue punishment or serve demons instead, you took servitude over the painful torture. In a way, enslavement was its own breed of torture.
Hongjoong turned in his seat, leaning against the arm rest as he continued gazing at you. San coughed and covered his own interest with a drink, but he still kept his eyes on you. 
“Beautiful,” Seonghwa breathed. “Absolutely stunning.” 
“You keep her groomed between her thighs but not the rest?” Hongjoong asked Rufus, though he kept his eyes on you. 
“That's what they care about the most. My patrons do not have your refined tastes, my lord.”
“Clearly. Come here.” 
You walk to him, which brings a smile to Hongjoong's face. “You obey instructions well,” he said, looking back down to your sex. “I like that.”
He gently touched the outside of your thigh, feeling the smooth skin and groping the supple flesh. You took in how his fingers felt on your thigh, the sensation sending shivers throughout your body. Hongjoong ran his hand up and down your thigh before reaching around to your backside. He gave one cheek a tender squeeze, humming his approval. 
“Very nice,” he commented, moving his hand between your thighs. You gasped when his fingers brushed your exposed center. “Very, very nice,” he said, rubbing his knuckle lightly along your slit. He chuckled when he heard your whimper. “Do you like that?” 
“Yes.”
He licked his thumb while maintaining eye contact, then he dragged it across your lips. A soft whimper escaped your throat as he traced the outer folds one by one; right when you thought he'd finally touch more, he dipped away. Finally, Hongjoong rolled his thumb around your clit, running over it languidly. Once a bit of wetness covered his thumb, Hongjoong tasted it while he gazed up at you. 
“Delicious,” he said, going back to rubbing your sex torturously slow. “I could get used to this.”
“Stop hogging,” griped Seonghwa. He took your hand to lead you from Hongjoong's black leather sofa to his pure white one. He took over, and you gasped when two thumbs pushed your lips apart. “The best way to know is to taste it right from the source,” he said, leaning forward. 
A single swipe of his tongue made you quiver. You weren’t sure if they enjoyed reactions, so you kept silent and stiff. Seonghwa took both sides and dove right to your center. You felt his tongue gingerly swiping at your damp lips, sliding between to tease your clit as much as possible. Your teeth dug into your bottom in an attempt to restrain your whimpering. However, your shaking knees started giving you away. 
“Moan for us, pretty,” Seonghwa ordered, pecking kisses across your thighs. “We want to hear how sweet you sound.” 
“Don’t be shy,” San said, palming himself through his pants. “Let it out.”
So you did. The sounds you tried stifling came out as Seonghwa’s tongue rapidly flicked at your clit. You’d been shaking by the time San came up behind you, and pressed your back to his chest. Without a word, he lifted one of your legs to rest it on the edge of the couch, and became a support to keep you upright. With more access to you, Seonghwa angled himself to have your sex completely on his mouth. San’s warm hands cupped both your breasts, and grazed your hard nipples with his thumbs. The light brushes added to the tightening sensation going on in your gut. 
“I’ve never seen a shy succubus before,” San said, voice low and deep in your ear. “I thought you all liked being fucked from sun up to sun down. Unless…you’re not really a demon at all?” 
“Wha-what?” Rufus exclaimed. “I told you she was, didn’t I?! I assure you, my lord-”
Rufus stopped when San reached to the “tail” you wore and tore it from you in a hard snap. The glue Rufus used ripped at your skin, the pain only distracting you from your pleasure for a brief moment. Seonghwa ceased when San tossed the fake tail onto the couch. Seeing the rubber extension beside him, he looked up to the horns braided into your scalp. It’d taken the stylist hours to fix them on your head, using loads of glue and tight lacing to keep them upright. Seonghwa stood up and tugged on one. You let out a cry, killing any arousal inside you as he lifted it enough to see your hair braided into the holes. 
“How dare you,” San scowled from behind you, “Try and fool us, you pathetic little worm.” 
“I-I-I…” Rufus struggled for a defense, and went for the only one he could think of, “She’s a human? I-I can’t believe it! The slaver I bought her from said she was a pureblood! I had no idea! I promise you, my lord, if I’d known that she was a human, I would never have dared bring her here!”
“How stupid do you think we are?” San asked, leaving you to face Rufus. “You really thought you could bring a human up here and try passing her off as a trueborn demon? Did you forget that the three of us are demons too?”
“I swear, my lord, I did not know! I am just as surprised as you are!”
A quick slash of silver and a spray of black blood went through the air. Rufus’s large hands clutched at his neck as blood started pouring from the open wound. He collapsed to the ground, gasping and gurgling pathetically as he clung to life. You didn’t know where demons went if they died, and you never asked. When Rufus finally laid dead on the floor, San held out his hand and Yunho produced a white handkerchief. San used it to wipe off the blade before handing both to Yunho. 
“Get rid of this filth,” San commanded, “Have Mingi help you.”
“At once, Master.”
San turned around to you, and all the blood drained from your body. Alone with three incubi who were nearly swindled by your idiot slaver, you knew where they’d turn their anger next. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting a harsh blow any second. The second a pair of hands touched your hips, you jolted and gave a small squeal of fear. Yet, instead of harsh bruises or angry words, you felt warm lips dotting kisses on your thighs. San unbuttoned and removed his jacket, his tanned torso glowing in the fire light, and his dark eyes gleaming with lust. Hongjoong did the same, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt. 
“Pl-Plea-se,” you begged, eyes starting to sting, “I-I had nothing to do with it. I was only doing what I was told. I swear, I didn’t want to do it. He made me. I can only do what my owners tell me to do. I promise I’d never-”
“-Relax, pet,” Seonghwa soothed you with more kisses, doing so as he unclipped his corset and tossed it aside. “We’re not angry with you at all.”
“You’re not?”
“Why would we be?” Hongjoong asked, taking San’s place behind you. His warm naked chest slowly rekindled the arousal inside you. Hands sailing up your body to your tits, he grabbed them gently as he spoke in your ear. “We just got a new pet for free. I don’t see that as a reason to be angry, do you?”
“But…But, I’m useless. I’m not a succubus or any other kind of demon. I’m…”
“Fresh,” he said, kissing your neck, “Brand new. You’re like fresh clay, ready to be molded however we want. Why would I want a regular demon who already knows everything over a human that I can shape to my tastes instead?”
“Succubi are boring, in my opinion,” said San, unbuckling his pants as he watched the other two kiss and fondle you. “They all like the same things, cast the same spells, and bore me to tears with their seductive talk. I told my brothers I wanted something new; something I’ve never tried before. We’re incubi, so banging other succubi or incubi can get boring. It’s fine if we’re feeding, but for pleasure…I prefer something a little more interesting.” 
“And you’re such a pretty thing too,” Seonghwa added, kissing up your stomach as he stood up. “So soft and warm,” he slashed one of your nipples with his tongue, “And you taste so good.”
“Your pussy tastes like honey,” said Hongjoong, who held your breasts for Seonghwa to suck on. “I fear I might grow addicted to it after tonight.”
“I haven’t gotten a taste yet,” San protested, who walked over to the three of you fully nude. 
He turned you to face him, the other two falling to your sides instead, as he slipped his hand against your wet center. Two fingers teased around the edges of your clit, occasionally brushing up on it before pulling away. The repeated motions made you dizzy, and you knew you’d cum sooner or later. The three of them created this intense arousal inside you that burned like fire. They’d made a knot in your pussy, and only with their fingers and tongue could it be undone. San licked Your essence off his fingers, approving of your supposed sweet taste. Hongjoong and Seonghwa continued teasing your nipples; each man took one side to grab and lick while San touched your pussy. 
“She is yummy,” he smirked, going back for a second taste with wet fingers. “But, I’d love to see what she can do with these pretty lips.” 
He coated both his fingers in you again before lifting them to your mouth. Instinctively, you opened for him to slide them over your tongue. The three of them groaned when you sucked your juices off his fingers; the act alone made you throb. 
“Let’s take our pet somewhere more comfortable,” Seonghwa suggested, reaching between your thighs to rub you. “It’s our first time. We should enjoy her properly.”
“I agree,” said Hongjoong, licking up your neck while his hand joined Seonghwa on your pussy. Each demon took turns rubbing circles around your sensitive clit while San slid his thumb into your mouth next, “Besides, it’s too dark in here. I want to see all of her while I fuck her senselessly.”
They spoke about you as if you weren’t standing there, and you liked it. You’d learned long ago that you’re meant for pleasure. It was so rare a demon gave it back to you that you’d do nothing to ruin your chances. With a click of their fingers, you found yourself standing in a dimly lit room. Not bothered by your surroundings at the moment, you let the three men take you over to a large canopy bed in a corner of the bedroom. It was wide enough to comfortably fit all four of you, with white and pale blue sheets matching the drapes tied to the bedposts. They sat you on the edge of the bed, circling you with their cocks in their hands. They were perfect. Longer and thicker than you’re used to, you knew they’d split you open in the best possible way. You swallowed the saliva building in your mouth seeing them up close now. 
“Stick out your tongue for me.”
Hongjoong held himself by the shaft as he rubbed his tip on your tongue. The high moans he let out only fueled the flames. You licked up and down his length, tracing the veins pumping blood through it before taking him in your mouth. Humming around the sensitive head, you tasted the thin, salty precum already. Hongjoomg let out soft sighs as he watched you work him into your mouth inch by inch. Dark eyes full of lust, you suddenly became his entire world. While you gingerly sucked his cock, you started slowly stroking Seonghwa and San’s in time with it. You enjoyed the feeling of them pulsating in your hands; the muscles twitched whenever your thumb touched the underside, tracing the wrinkles just underneath the head. It reminded you of home for a moment: the big New Year’s office party where you fucked those three interns in the mailroom. They’d been so hot and you’d been so horny, the consequences at the time didn’t bother you. They never did, quite frankly. You were a big shot CEO. You had expensive tastes and an insatiable appetite. You still had that even in Hell where you’re nobody. 
“Take it all the way,” Hongjoong groaned, holding your head to push further into your mouth. “I know you can. Sluts like you are experts at taking dicks in your throat. You can do it.” 
You coughed and sputtered around him as he sunk towards your throat. His tip brushing against your uvula created a gagging sound that made all three men moan. Your pussy throbbed as you took him in your throat, loving how it blocked your airway entirely and nearly suffocated you. Hongjoong enjoyed this for a few strokes before pulling you off him, strings of spit connecting you both until he fully moved away. Seonghwa turned your head to face him, and laughed when you opened your mouth for him. 
“She certainly understands her place already,” he said, holding your hair as he started fucking your mouth. “We don’t need to go through the trouble of breaking her.”
“She’s been broken for quite a while,” groaned San, who guided your hand to spread his precum over his thick cock. “I can tell. She gives into it so easily.”
“She knows what she’s made for,” Hongjoong grinned, keeping your hand still as he pushed into it instead. “Don’t you, slut?” They laughed when you nodded in agreement. “You see, you don’t have to be a demon to be well bred.”
“She’ll certainly be bred after tonight.”
“If only,” San mused somewhat sadly. 
So rarely did you get to enjoy good looking demons. The ones who came to the “House of Kisses” were foul-smelling, long-clawed, black-eyed creatures who squealed and grunted through it. They acted more like animals humping their favorite stuffed toy. You hardly ever enjoyed a lover who took their time with you, who tasted delightful and gave you pleasure in return. It was something you'd do anything to keep. 
When Seonghwa pulled out, San turned your head to keep your mouth full. You’d initially sucked him firmly, moaning around his cock while sinking down to the base every time. Drool dropped onto your chest as you did so, not daring to break away unless he said so. But then, San held you by the hair as his brothers had done and made his own pace. 
“Suck a little softer, pet. I like it more-Oh, yes,” he sighed dreamily, melting in your mouth as you followed his instructions exactly. “Someone really is trying to avoid going back down there, hm?” he joked, head tilting back once you started slowly deep-throating him. “Don't worry, pet,” he soothed you with gentle head pats, “You're not going anywhere.”
This went on for a while: they all took various turns in your mouth, and you sucked according to how they enjoyed it. Hongjoong went rougher, shoving himself in your mouth and guiding you by the neck. Seonghwa kept it steady and breathily gave orders as if you’d never given a blowjob before. San, as you expected, liked it light and soft. You’d learned how to play to a client’s appetites in order to avoid upsetting your owners. If a customer complained enough or you’d disobeyed them somehow, you’d end up back in the winds of lust. You didn’t want to be flung around the air in dizzying circles; the harsh, cold winds freezing your skin while bits of debris or other prisoners crashed into you. It had been madness. They tortured you by making you feel relentless sensations of all kinds. You'd taken part so much in life, your death only made sense. 
You shouldn't have snorted all that blow. 
“On the bed,” Hongjoong ordered, “It’s our turn now.”
You slid further up the bed until your lower half hung off the edge. San and Seonghwa each propped a leg onto their shoulder, and kept you fully exposed to the three of them. The hunger in their eyes created a whole new arousal for you; your breath hitched when Hongjoong laid a flat, wide lick up your wet lips, ending with a hard suck to your clit. Your needy whine pleased them, and brought on more attention. San laid soft kisses and gentle nips of his teeth down your inner thighs. Your pussy throbbed in Hongjoon’s expert mouth, which caused him to chuckle against it. Seonghwa did the same, licking from knee to the apex of your thighs where he flicked your pussy tenderly. 
The pleasure boiled inside you when two fingers slipped between your folds. San rolled his thumb around your clit while Hongjoong and Seonghwa joined together to finger you. Their groans joined yours as you lost yourself in the feeling building in every stroke. 
“She has such a pretty pussy,” Seonghwa moaned, pushing his finger into the last knuckle. He and Hongjoong fingered you at different speeds, so neither one left your pussy empty and wanting. “It’s so wet and squeezing my finger nicely. I can’t imagine what it’ll feel when I’m fucking her.”
“I’ll have to be careful,” Hongjoong said, “Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll finish too quickly. It’s been way too long since I had anything good in my bed.”
“I want to feel it too,” pouted San, who took a few licks to your clit before sucking up the juices flooding it. When one of them removed his finger, San replaced it immediately. He hummed his delight at the walls squeezing both his and his brother’s fingers. “How can human pussy be better than demon pussy?” he giggled, “I don’t get it.”
“Have no idea,” Hongjoong shrugged, content watching his brothers finger you together. “I don’t really care either. We have a dumb little toy that we can build however we like.” His brothers broke away as he began kissing from the middle up to your breasts. Cupping them, he gave hard squeezes that made you wriggle in his grasp. “I can make her into whatever I want her to be.” He kissed up your neck to your ear, biting it tenderly. “You’re going to be the obedient, compliant submissive I’ve always wanted.” You moaned when his cock slid up between your folds, rubbing directly on your clit. He giggled at your hips bucking against him, and held them down. You tried moving into him, but his firm grip kept you against the bed. “The pretty bitch that fucks like she’s in constant heat,” he traced your jaw with his fingers, letting his dick settle right over your pussy but not moving. “The perfect slave. My slave.” 
“How crass,” scoffed Seonghwa, who shoved his brother off you and took his place. Unlike Hongjoong, Seonghwa gradually grinded into you. Pushing stray hairs from your face, he said, “I prefer a pretty toy over a slave,” he said, cupping your jaw and kissing you deeply. The mixture of your fluids filled your mouth when his tongue rolled around yours. His full lips worked yours open slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before beginning to roll around. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be a lovely doll that sings and plays music and reads to me. You’ll be the picture of innocence in front of others,” he pecked your lips as he kept grinding, “A virginal angel who is deflowered by me every night.” 
When he lifted you further up on the bed, as expected, San slid right between you and Seonghwa. “That’s dumb,” he said, feeling up your body to your chest. Sucking on one nipple, he allowed you to grind into him. “Everyone knows what you are,” he changed sides, and rolled his tongue around it. “I can’t marry you, but I can certainly enjoy the benefits of pretending.” He sealed his lips over yours, and you easily opened your mouth to let him explore. “A lovely wife who cooks and cleans for me…Who does whatever she can to please me…make sure I’m content and comfortable. Isn’t that what every man wants? Why can’t I want it?”
“Because you have servants who do all that already,” snorted Seonghwa from beside you. 
You turned over to see him and Hongjoong locked in a passionate embrace. Seonghwa watched both you and San through heavy lidded eyes. Hongjoong turned his head from you to kiss him passionately, both of them moaning in each other’s mouths. Something about the sight aroused you more. You gazed down to where they met to see their hands wrapped around one another. Clear droplets fell from the slits to their shafts, where each brother used it to slicken their movements. You kept watching them kiss and touch before something thick pushed inside you slowly. 
“Oh fuck…” San breathed, eyes falling shut and head going forward as he carefully filled you. 
Being stretched around him distracted you from anything else in the room. You grabbed San’s biceps, nails digging into the hard muscles as the pressure intensified. Once he became fully sheathed inside you, you swore you felt his tip bulge your belly slightly. It was a feeling you could never get enough of. Even with other customers, if they could reach that far into you, you became absolutely weak. Holding you close, he kissed you as he gently fucked into you. 
“Perfect,” he moaned against your lips, “Perfect. My little wife is taking my dick so well, and loving it so much. Here,” he took your hand to place on your belly, “Feel that? That’s me, pet. That’s me fucking you so deep you feel it here.” He kept your hand there as he took several long strokes. He grinned when he saw your eyes rolling back. “You’re loving this, huh?” he started going a bit faster, moaning as you tightened around him, “Loving my fat cock ripping you open, hm?”
“Ye-y-yes,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders and trying to keep still for him. 
“It must be the best thing about being a demon slave,” he groaned, “Getting to have demon dick every moment of the day. Let’s see exactly how well you can take this one.”
Kneeling up, he pinned you by the waist, pulling your legs over his thighs as he quickened his pace. Balls slapping against your ass joined your combined moans. He made stars form in front of your eyes; every stroke pushed against your g-spot over and over again, turning you into a moaning mess on the bed. At some point, San began pulling you onto him and he laughed when you began doing it for him. 
“You really love it,” he teased, “Look at her.”
“She’s beautiful like this,” said Seonghwa, lazily starting to rub your clit. You noticed his open mouth letting out soft panting, and spotted Hongjoong’s head between his thighs. The red head teasingly swatted his tongue over the slit and underside of the tip, giving it a suck every few licks. “I have a suspicion our pet is a lot naughtier than we first thought. She must have been.”
“Only the filthiest humans are made sex slaves,” San noted, propping himself on his fists and curling you upwards in the process. “You must’ve…must’ve been a whore…a filthy, naughty, slutty whore…”
The degradation. The lack of acknowledgement as they fucked you added to your need for release. You’d always loved being used by your lovers; you loved giving yourself over and letting them do what they wanted. Having these three demons using you and each other was a dream come true. San’s thrusts knocked the headboard into the wall, his groans turning into feral grunts and his strokes becoming feverish. His orgasm came hard, and the hot sensation of his cum painting your walls made you join him. Your body became sensitive to Seonghwa’s hand teasing your clit even as you came; each brush and swirl had you bucking against the sensitivity. When you usually come down from the high quickly, your body starts wearing down, yet that didn’t happen this time. Not with real incubi, and not an average demon. Your orgasm ending, you only wanted more of them. 
“My turn,” said Seonghwa. 
Hongjoong left his thighs to join San’s side of the bed, the pair sharing soft kisses. He rested himself against the broad man, legs spread for you to see him completely. His cock fully erect, throbbing against his stomach, Hongjoong whimpered when San began stroking him. Both of them looked at you and Seonghwa now, an audience for what you were about to do. 
“Get on top, pretty,” Seonghwa said, bringing you on top of him. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his dick, having the same burning effect as San. “Oh yes,” he panted, head tilting into the soft pillow. “San wasn’t lying.” 
You didn’t care when they laughed at you pathetically bouncing on him. Hands on his chest, you raised and lowered your ass onto him in an inconsistent flow. He felt just as good as San, his cock reaching up to your core far too easily. You whined when a hand sharply swatted your ass. You didn’t care whose hand it was; you only cared that the sting added to your pleasure. When he heard you squeal particularly loud, Seonghwa smacked your ass again.
“Desperate cock-whore,” Seonghwa moaned, bringing you forward to keep spanking you. “We’re going to fuck you dumb,” he growled in your ear, “You won’t even remember your own name when we’re done with you.”
The idea of that alone had you rutting against him pathetically. Seonghwa eventually let you kneel back up, and slightly away from him. Hands holding you up behind your back, this position gave all three demons a view of him inside you. Their eyes locked right on where you and Seonghwa met, and when he began pushing up into you, the other two jeered.
“Ride him, slut. Ride him the right way.”
“Don’t be shy. Take him all the way.”
“You’re really a cock-loving whore, aren’t you?” Hongjoong asked in a breath, being teased by San in gradual strokes. “Answer me, slut. Are you a cock-loving whore?”
“Ye-Ye-Yess,” you cried, feeling a second orgasm building in your lower belly.
“Say it. Say ‘Yes, Master. I’m a cock-loving whore’.”
“Yes, Ma-M-Master,” you sobbed, “I’m a cock-cock-lov-loving whore!”
“Keep saying it,” Seonghwa said, pushing his hips upwards, “Say it.”
You did as told, saying the humiliating words as Seonghwa brought you to your second orgasm. It hit you much harder, stiffening your muscles and arching your spine backwards. His deep strokes emphasized each pathetic cry; your tits and ass bounced from the force of his thrusts which delighted the three demons. Having them sitting there, laughing and calling you names sunk you deeper into your arousal. You came even harder when you felt Seonghwa’s hot cum filling you soon enough. Seonghwa’s jaw clenched and he kept his pace steady as he pumped his seed deep inside you. You wanted more. You needed more. Whatever devious pheromone the incubi released sunk into your nostrils and filled your lungs. It smelled like hard candy, roses and cinnamon, turning from scents into a cocktail drug that fueled your body. You swore you ran on their energy and various scents alone. 
“Take it all,” he grunted, grabbing your wrists and holding them in front of you, “Take all my cum.”
You would have stopped for a small break at the brothel. By a second orgasm, your body usually gives up. Yet, the brothers did not let you have a break. The power of an incubus must be stronger than you first assumed. Hongjoong grabbed you by the waist, and bent you over in front of him. Pushing your head down into the bed, he wasted no time in forcing himself inside you. Fingers scratching the smooth covers, face buried in their softness, you nearly screamed at the newest cock. Hongjoong did not reach as far as San, but he made sure you felt every hit each time. The only time he slowed down was when San came up behind him. Buried deep in you, you heard Hongjoong let out a long moan that ended in soft panting. Soon, you realized Hongjoong was sandwiched between your pussy and San’s cock. You matched San’s speed so Hongjoong felt pleasure from both ends. The strong pheromones drove you nearly wild now. You wanted him to cum in you too. Even if they couldn’t breed you, you wished they could. 
Seonghwa moved around the bed to the front of you, lifted your head and filled your mouth. You greedily sucked up the leftover cum from his dick. His soft rose  scent drew you closer to him. You loved the mix of salty and sweetness on your tongue, the remnants flowing from his tip to your throat as you swallowed. Hongjoong twitched inside you, almost creating a vibrating feeling that you’d heard incubi and succubi could do. It had you crying around Seonghwa’s dick; tears streamed from the corners of your eyes as he choked you on it. The combination of fingers rapidly rubbing your pussy, a demon cock shuddering inside you like a vibrator, and knowing San was pounding his demon brother had you trembling in their grasp. When Seonghwa gave you a moment to breathe, drool and cum fell from your lips onto the bed and your eyes remained shut in each euphoric feeling. You focused on nothing but them.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes,” Hongjoong whined, “Fuck me like that. Both of you. Fuck me just like that.”
He hunched over on top of you as he came hard. You and San did as he wished, milking his orgasm from him so he spilled inside you. You soon joined him with a body-shattering third orgasm. Your arms shook, becoming numb and weak from the weakness it brought on. All three of them having had their turn, you assumed it’d be over.
You assumed wrong.
San withdrew from Hongjoong and the latter nearly threw you on top of him. Weakly, you slipped him into your dripping hole and rode him. Hongjoong stood over San’s head, and pushed his cock in your mouth. He hadn’t even gotten soft. You heard from other slaves that incubi could go for hours if they wished. In all realness, that should concern you. Even if you’re technically dead, you could never handle such a lengthy session. Yet, surrounded by these horny incubi, you felt compelled to serve them as they wished. Your jaw burned, and your cheeks felt stiff from the abuse. You knew your throat will be hoarse and painful after tonight. This did not seem to concern any of the demons.
“Stay still for a moment,” Seonghwa said from behind you. “This will only hurt for a little bit.”
San arched your back and spread your ass cheeks apart. A cold, slippery substance fell between them to your hole, which clenched and unclenched to the thick head spreading the lube around. 
“Oh-ho,” Hongjoong laughed, “She’s going to love that.”
“What’s the point in three holes if we don’t fill each one?” he asked, pushing the tip inside you.
Your high-pitched moan remained muffled by Hongjoong, though the reaction pleased all three of them. You felt entirely full. Plugged up by each of them, having them move in near unison to keep you still in their grasp, you surrendered over to them completely. Your masters would take you however they wished, and you would not complain. Their cocks felt far too good to refuse. The best ones you’ve ever had in your previous life and in this new hellish one, you drowned yourself in it. Seonghwa grabbed both your tits to keep you in place; San rubbed your clit with his thumb while holding you by your hip; Hongjoong held you by the hair as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You stayed frozen in place as your new owners used you for their pleasure, giving you a bit of it in return.
They all laughed and jeered when you came again. Seonghwa tweaked your nipples when he heard you crying on Hongjoong’s dick; Hongjoong kept himself fully planted in your throat so your moans vibrated around his head. This orgasm made your toes curl, your nails from crescent shapes in your palms, and your muscles shake and burn from constant movement. They didn’t stop. Not for a single second. You became putty by the time they laid you back down. Seonghwa pushed himself inside your ass once more, legs on his chest as he ruthlessly pounded you. San brought your head to the edge of the bed, instantly filling your mouth while Hongjoong lapped and fingered your gushing pussy. You didn’t have much time to enjoy it before San began shuddering, and his cum filled your throat. You struggled to swallow at first, though caught onto it easily until you sucked every thick drop from him.
By the time you laid on your side between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you lost all sense of time and place. You felt nothing but the constant flow of bliss coursing through your veins.
“What’s your name, pretty?” Seonghwa asked, the taunt in his tone.
You gave an incoherent mumble, eyes shut and body made of jelly by now.
“What was that?” Hongjoong joined in, “We can’t hear you.”
You mumbled again, head lolling as you felt San hover over you. “Come on now,” he said, teasing your clit in slow circles, “You must have a name.”
“If you don’t tell us, we’ll give you one instead,” Seonghwa panted, moving away enough to let San’s hand tease you. “Use your words, kitten.”
“”My Pet’ is a nice name in my opinion,” Hongjoong said, gripping your hip as he bottomed up into you.
“Darling is prettiest,” San said, “Much more endearing.”
“Kitten,” Seonghwa proclaimed, “Kitten is much sweeter. It suits her.”
There they named you. You are their property now, and you had no say. Eventually, the three of them finished and collapsed onto the bed together with you in the middle. The softness of the bed became particularly noticeable once you melted into it. The scent of sweat and sex filled your nose, and a distinct chill fell over your naked body. Your eyes falling shut, you relished in the gentle hands and lips on various parts of you. Their comforting touches lulled you to sleep, you barely listening to their sweet whispers. Whether they spoke to one another or to you, you weren't sure. 
You only enjoyed the sweet peace sleep gave you.
***
A/N: just a short horny fic for all of you! I might make it a series, I might not. I have a habit of making these things lol please like and reblog <3
985 notes · View notes
wonwayne · 4 months
Text
how enha takes care of you ☁️
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pairing : ot7 x gn!reader genre : fluff, comfort, humor warnings : mentions of food word count : 1k
a/n : requested by anon! kind of kicked it off with this hee drabble but had so much fun writing for all the members. for today’s purposes, let’s keep y/n sick and alone in their apartment 🫶
💭 heeseung
my little philosophy is that significant others can be two types of caregivers — one actively tries to treat your illness, the other is emotional support
each has their own merit ofc
but hee is miraculously both
sincerely believes he can rizz you to health
he’s being a bit selfish, he worries, for making you smile all the time
because it heals him more than it heals you
but he makes up for it by making sure you eat like a king (for all three meals a day!) until you feel better
also cuddles with you in bed to keep you warm
if whatever you have is contagious, he is definitely getting it
last but certainly not least: he sings to you. acoustic covers + snippets of his self-produced music, you’re getting it all 😌
almost makes you wish you were sick more often
💭 jay
arrives at your place with like fifty grocery bags (okay maybe not fifty, but… a lot)
big believer in sleep as the best medicine so he lets you be for the most part
but as soon as you wake up and come down to the living room
say hello to a FEAST
literally no room left on the dining table and he’s still doing something in the kitchen????
“jay i can’t… consume all of this” “don’t worry, eat as much as you want for now and i’ll put the leftovers in the fridge”
at this point what is there left to say except “can you just be my husband already”
you’re about to dig in and suddenly he’s standing over you giving you the death stare
“... did i… do something wrong?” “seriously?” your heart stops before he goes, “what happened to my thank you kiss?”
UGH he’s such a softie
💭 jake
is worried SICK and cannot hide it
refuses to leave your bedroom once he first enters it unless absolutely necessary — must stay by your side at all times !!
not the most experienced but the effort is very much there
“should we take the medicine together? would that be easier?” and you KNOW he hates taking medicine
“babe why would you take nyquil. you don’t have a cold.” “idk it can’t hurt can it?” it very much can (don’t do this kids)
he drinks it with you anyway (clinks the medicine cups and says “cheers!”… what are you going to do with this man) and tries his best to fight the drowsiness
ends up dozing with his head on your lap, kneeling by the bed
peak puppy position i tell you PEAK
💭 sunghoon
what matters is not so much how he takes care of you but how he looks so good while taking care of you: simple white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just to the elbows, hair slicked back a little from washing his face, setting damp towels on your forehead and his forearm veins emerging as he wrings them… help me
it’s the wuthering heights bedridden cathy victorian era aesthetic okay
speaking of books why do i get the feeling that sunghoon would read to you
or simply talk to you about his day or childhood memories or anything to keep you comfortable and entertained
idk i feel like he’d want to remind you of his presence in a “i’m here for you” type of way but without being intrusive… is not at all offended when you fall asleep to his voice
don’t you just love when sunghoon.
💭 sunoo
i have one very specific idea for sunoo and i’m kinda obsessed with it
MINT. TEA. (if you know you know… mint tea is the sinus relief GOD)
and ofc as our resident mint choco lover, how could he not
“baby i made something for you!” you peer into the mug and you’re like 🤨 “you didn’t add chocolate syrup to this did you” “wtf i’m not a monster why would i do that??”
his discography and food preferences beg to differ but he truly does give you pure, steaming mint tea
it is so perfect i promise you will fall in love with him all over again
mint aside we all know this man is a human vitamin like i cannot imagine you staying sick for long
no need to binge tv (it makes your head hurt more anyway), just have sunoo spill all the drama to you for seven hours straight and you’ll be good to go
💭 jungwon
makes you wonder, did this boy have a medical degree this entire time and just not tell me??
knows exactly which medications help with which symptoms, gives you all the immune boosting foods, pulls up with a weighted blanket and a heating pad and a plushie to hug— you’re getting the best sleep of your life no question about it
listens to you so well “i miss what it was like to breathe” “it’s frustrating, isn’t it? as soon as one nostril clears, the other fills up, and it never seems to end” “YES ohmy— [cough] god, yes, you get it :(”
at the same time i think won is the most likely to avoid skinship when you’re sick bc yeah that stuffy nose does not sound fun
is smart about it though; prepares a bubble bath for you and then sets up the heating pad and everything on your bed while you’re in the bath
becomes 143x touchier once you’re back to normal (“i missed squishing your cheeks” “i missed squishing your cheeks!”)
💭 niki
crashes at your place to make sure you’re having a good time
it’s either you watching him game or movie marathon together
you don’t say it but you are so inordinately grateful that he’s caring enough to chill with you on days like these, you know he’d rather do dates outside and play pranks on you every other hour, but he’s giving that up just for you
would share a tub of ice cream with you if you’re craving it, although he voices his concerns first “is it… right to eat cold stuff when you have a cold?” “it defrosts in my mouth don’t worry” “okay you do you”
basically a good old sleepover
every time he checks your temperature he sings his part in fever (he’s humorous like that)
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michinekot · 9 days
Note
What do u like about thistle?
I'll start off with his design because it's not so spoiler-heavy.
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He's short, cute, a total menace and has the cutest evil grin ever. I certainly have a thing for villains... But also generally, jesters are fun and I usually love their outfits. Thistle is no exception, I love all of his looks (but I'm not gonna look for them all through the manga...) and how different he is after becoming the Dungeon Master. Also, white hair, purple eyes & outfit... (´,,•ω•,,)♡
I must also add, I adore how the author draws elf ears pointed upwards and how expressive her art is. Absolutely amazing, all the angry Thistles are great.
Now I'll get into heavy spoiler territory, I'll go over the ending too:
First off, I really like how he shows his love through "eternity", much like Marcille. Elves who love people of other races suffer because they will undoubtedly outlive everyone else. The way Thistle and Marcille are similar is so great to see... and I think it's great that Marcille wasn't made out to be a terrible, selfish villain and neither was Thistle. Through her becoming the Dungeon Master, we see how much this power changes them.
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He meant well and his wish wasn't initially selfish. He didn't even wish for eternal live, just a peaceful one. Of course, the Winged Lion dug deeper into it and the selfish part came to light.
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And because no one was aware of the danger, it became absolute truth to Thistle that he's doing the right thing and making everyone happy. His dream was everybody else's dream in his mind. And I think it's nice how much he must've paid attention to the townsfolk needs, because...
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He must've done so much to make the Dungeon liveable and safe for the people he cares about. All those traps were to ward off people who (he assumed) must've been just like the ones who came to destroy the kingdom. On the other hand, he saw opportunity in the monsters and had people take care of them like they did with their farm animals. It was unnecessary, he didn't have to do that since they don't need to sleep, eat or drink. But he knew that they weren't happy doing nothing at all and put a lot of thought into the ecosystem (compared to Marcille, which is understandable, but y'know. I think it's great to see the difference since her monsters werent very, uh... thought out?)
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It's been SO many years of stagnation, they can't even taste the food or enjoy anything.
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He's aware, he'd enjoy a little change of pace too, he's open to it! but the desire to protect everyone wins.
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He just... loves everyone so much. His platonic love isn't simple at all. He did so much for everyone. And after losing his desires... I feel like he hasn't lost his love for everyone.
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I think that, maybe... he feels like everything was fullfilled? He's been angry and anxious for so long and now there's nothing to worry about anymore. I'm really sad for him, but there's no going back to "normal" after everything. But I'm glad Yaad doesn't hate him. I don't think anyone from the kingdom truly hates him.
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Also this page makes me want to cry...... he's holding him so gently and Thistle only looks tired and like he wants to sleep. I hope he finds his place in the new world and lives out the rest of his life peacefully.
I haven't read much of the additional stuff yet, but I also think about Mithrun a lot.
I think Mithrun was extremely selfish in his desires and that's why, aside from them, his eye and ears were taken away. It might be just the demon's will because it wasn't exactly the Winged Lion, but all demons are technically the same one(? from what I understood...). The only desire left within Mithrun was about the demon, but in the end, it still seemed selfish.
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But neither Marcille or Thistle were physically hurt after having desires taken from them. The Winged Lion also said something along the lines of "this is for everyone, I want everyone's desires to be fullfilled for all eternity". It didn't like Thistle because he stagnated, but it probably understood him a little bit, since he mostly thought of others. But there was no way to manipulate him into thinking about Anyone outside of the kingdom. Only Laios managed to talk a tiny bit of sense into him... but it still didn't work out.
So yeah, Dungeon Meshi is amazing and I generally love everyone, but Thistle speaks to me the most because... his top priority was protecting those he loves, freeing them from death and pain, living out the life they had on the surface forever. And this feels personal to me- I lost both of my parents and the friends I cared about the most left me. So like, if we ditch all the (totally right) talk about how there's no happiness without pain and such, I get Thistle. He meant well. He's a very well done character. :)
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heartfullofleeches · 9 months
Text
You've got mail!
Alt title: Single Ghost babes in your area
Yan Chain-Letter Entity + Amab/G.N "Loser" Reader [smut, mdni]
[Tags: light horror elements, masturbation, tit fucking]
-
!WARNING!
Now that you've read this, there is no going back.
The woman in this photo was a young bride getting for her big day. Following traditions of her new family, she was forced to wear her veil the entire week predating the ceremony, and quite unhappy with her situation. Her marriage was arranged and she had yet to fall for her new husband. She begged for a way out, help given in the form a voice from the shadows offering to change her appearance the night before her wedding. When her husband and in-laws saw her new face the next day - they all went mad from terror. This image is the only picture of her face and she'll do anything to keep it hidden.
Send this message to eight people in seven days, or she'll visit you at midnight on the final day."
"...."
"... hear me out..."
The air stills - warranted caution to keep your big mouth shut where input was not needed - or wanted.
"Why is she hot?..."
A collective, drawn out groan harmonizes from those plagued by your company.
"..what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"
Below the totally scary and terror inducing text was a photo of a woman shrouded in darkness. Part of her dark outline rooted from the shadowy grey veil draping to her long, thin neck, and waist-length jet black hair framing her pale, ashen skin. Her sunken eyes and mouth agap in a silent scream stretched the cloth against her hollow cheeks - small, white irises fainty visible from her empty sockets and the veil that hide them. The same white eyes your friend had alleged to have been staring them back at them when they looked in the mirror all week.
As unsettling as the picture was to most in your group, your eyes had settled on the more pleasant sight of her shapely figure shown off in the tightly fitted, lacey gown she wore.
"What?! I can't be the only one that noticed how huge her tits are! I hate when people make these cheesy attempts to scare you, and the monster that's supposed to be sooo scary is just some ghost. You can't even really see her face in the first place!"
"God, how do we put up with you... Just make sure you send that back to the rest of us before you leave."
The bulk of your collective friend group had gathered to comfort the unfortunate soul who received the email, and squander their fears by sending it between one another to meet the chain letter's rule. You tagged along for the offer of free lunch, and now that you've gotten your meal you're ready to head home and avoid meeting these people again with the exception of an online space. You stand up from the table, tucking your phone into your back pocket.
"Yea, yea I'll do it when I get home."
"Y/n..."
"I said I'll do it later. I promise, as soon as I get through the door I'll do it."
-
11:58....
11:59....
12..
Opening your eyes, you expect to find angry, sunken eyes staring back, but all you see is the blank white wall of your ceiling. A week ago, you sorta forgot about the whole chain letter scare by the time you made it home, and only remembered minutes before the deadline upon realizing how pathetic it'd look if you died with your dick in your hands when you opened a new priva tab on your laptop. As figured, not a damn thing happened upon the stroke of midnight and quite frankly you felt it must've just been some stupid prank by your friends after not hearing a word from any of them during that time frame. You guessed there'd be no hot ghost chick to cause your untimely demise this time - but it never hurt to make sure.
"Gee, I sure hope a sexy ghost doesn't pop out to kill me right as I pull down my sweatpants. That would sure suck, and the embarrassment alone would probably end me!"
Nothing. You reopen your laptop with a heavy sigh. "Welp- Since I'm still alive, guess it's back to tonight's scheduled plans."
Tugging one hand into the waist of your sweats, you pull up one of your usual sites for quality adult content - scouring for the right material to fit the mood. Alot of good choices, but strangely every thumbnail you clicked lead to a dead link. You switch to multiple sights, but the same thing just kept happening. Frustrated, you don't bother wasting time looking at the preview of a message sent by one of your friends as you scroll. If they could wait this long to text you, they could wait a little longer for you to respond.
Ready to throw in the towel and let your imagination work its magic - you finally manage to get a stream open through sheer determination and miscellaneous presses.
"Finally...." You push your sweats past your thighs as the video opens on a woman sitting on a bed. The room is too dark to see most of her, but the camera and lighting was centered on all you needed to see to pull out your swelling length. The woman's flowing gown hugged the plump flesh of her thighs, rolling up to her hips - and revealing the of her transparent fabric of her underwear as she parted her legs slowly. She removes one strap from her shoulder, long hair falling over her breasts as she contorted to better fit her face into frame.
Head crashing into your pillow with a small groan, you fist your cock to the woman's beautiful image and thought of her large tits in placement of your palm. Your hand could only mirror a fraction of their softness and you whine as your thumb pressing the tip, picturing plush lips closing around you as you came. Your entire being yearned to paint her pretty face and chest in your release - narrowly avoiding the unnatural whites of her eyes at the intensity and build up of your climax left your own body out of your control.
Peeling your eyes open for the second time, the speed of your hand slows as you start to get the odd feeling of being watched. Looking back at the screen, the woman stares back, appearing directly in front of the camera as cold sweat breaks down your neck. Her fingers slither along the glass, reaching through your monitor as your eyes widen in horror. You scream- throwing the laptop as far from your person as you coward against the bedframe. It lands, screen upwards feet from your bed. Loud cracks and snaps play from the speakers as the woman pulls herself free with janky, articulated movements. Her gown falls down to her knees and her veil washes over her face as she climbs to her feet.
You pull your blankets over your shamefully, almost painfully hard dick as you raise your hands in defeat. "Please don't kill me! I'll send the messages right now, for real!'
The woman cocks her head to one side - eyes shrinking as you cover yourself.
"Don't hide...."
She crawls over your quivering legs, gripping at the end of her veil.
"I've taken on so many face - yet, none of them have ever been called attractive before.... Tell me..."
The room light's flicker as she pulls the veil upwards - slowly revealing the dark void where her face used to be. Thin claw marks drew from the intact flesh of her cheeks and jaw to the permanent shadows gouging her features dug deep as if whatever had done this to her had taken more than just her face. The pearly points of her teeth and the whites of her eyes were all that remained of her mortal beautiful. Shaking in fear, your body betrays your fright as your cock jumps watching her drag her tongue over her sharp rows of teeth.
"Do you think I'm beautiful now?...."
At lost for words, you dip your head in reply - eventually squeaking through a strained voice. "You're the hottest ghost that's ever been in my room.
The woman's body writhes with a full body shutter as she takes the blanket in her hands. "Let's see that I'm the only person in your bedroom... living or otherwise."
You hiss from the cool air enveloping your cock as the entity tears the last shield protecting your shred of dignity away. It not like the had much to begin with, but sleeping with the ghost that most likely killed your friends definitely took whatever was left. Her heated breath fans your skin as your cock springs from your shorts and against her cheek. Turning her head, your muscles lock as her sharp teeth come to contact with the head of your penis. There's some give before them, lips hidden by the shadows of her face puckered around your weeping tip as an impossible long snakes from between the two and spirals down your girth as her breasts spill from her tightly fitted top.
Cradling an arm beneath them, the ghost woman sandwiches cards your dick between her breasts. Her tongue, still working around you, provides lubrication - and lewd suction as she bounces the weight of her large tits in your lap. The tip of her tongue grazes your balls and you feel them tighten as you rock your hips into the supple flesh of her chest. Her tongue squeezes at your increasing pulse and her veil falls back in place as she to uses both hands to better assist her assault on your pulsing dick.
You tangle your hand through her hair, cock swallowed by her breasts and plump lips. Your other gropes at her tits, toying with her nipples as hitched gasps and the growing sloppiness of your thrusts signed your peak. The coil in your lower abdomen breaks right as she pulls her lips from your swollen head, using her tongue, face and breasts to catch the milky fluid that pumps from you in thick spurts. The white streaks contrast the dark silhouette of her face and as she looks up at you, you use a discarded blanket to wipe some of it away before collapsing on your mattress in a sweaty, panting heap.
The cotton touch of your pillow is placed with soft flesh as the woman crawls beside you in bed and pulls you closer to her. She brushes hair away from your clammy forehead, raising her veil to kiss your skin as your arms fall around her.
"Sleep now, my love... We'll play more once you've gotten some rest. I look forward to all the things we'll do in the future. I'm sorry about your friends, but I seem to be more of the jealous type..."
You fight off the spell of exhaustion to shrug lazily with a reply that makes your new wife smile from ear to ear.
"Eh.... fuck 'em, it was worth it."
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magicalregression · 3 months
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General Hazbin Hotel hcs
Hello fellow agere hazbin enjoyers. I come with hcs for the main 6. Pls enjoy
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🛡 ~ Charlie ~ 🛡
She's a little. Regresses to like 6-7 y/o and is so sweet and innocent.
Still wants to help everyone, and spends her time drawing posters to attract people to the hotel.
Her main cg is Vaggie for obvious reasons, though she will also gravitate towards Angel if he's around.
Eepy baby. Once all of her energy is gone, pick her up and she falls right to sleep.
⚔ ~ Vaggie ~ ⚔
She's a caregiver. Vaggie also will babysit the other littles in the hotel if needed, though she has an obvious preference for Charlie.
Is kinda hard on the littles when need be, can be very strict. This is especially true for bed/nap time, mealtimes, and baths. No stinky, overtired littles on Vaggie's watch.
This just popped into my head but cuddles where she uses her wings as like a blanket thing or just lets the little snuggle into it yes yes
Tends to clean up after playtime. She wants to be madder, but could never be truly angry with her babies.
🕷 ~ Angel Dust ~ 🕷
Angel is both a little and a babysitter. When he regresses, it's at a similar age to Charlie, maybe a bit older to around 7-8.
His energy levels highly fluctuate depending on his emotions before regressing. If he had been in a stressful situation or recently come back from work, he's very tired and kinda just wants to be alone with whatever he's entertained himself with. If he's not in a high emotion environment, he's full of energy!
Likes playing tag and hide and seek with the others. Sometimes forgets that he's much bigger than everyone, though, and may accidentally cause some booboos.
As a babysitter, he takes his job very seriously. Might not be as strict about meals or naps (definitely lets them just have as many sweets as they want), but will take tea parties and games very seriously.
📻 ~ Alastor ~ 📻
I know a lot of people like little Al but for personal reasons, he is a caregiver lol. He has too soothing a voice and mannerisms with Nifty for me to not harp on it.
Takes his little out to Overlord meetings or to visit Auntie Rosie. When they go see Rosie, she always has a new outfit for them, whether a onesie or full outfit, there's always something. At the Overlord meetings, he'll let them sit in his lap or between him and Rosie. The others don't mind bc I say so.
Alastor doesn't like touch he doesn't initiate, and you are no exception. That being said, if they find a way to pull on or play with his ears, the most he'll do is let out a long sigh before letting them continue.
Calls them a little Overlord. "Come now, little Overlord, it's time for bed." and "Little Overlord, what have I told you about sneaking up on others?" and the like.
I have the most thoughts about him but will keep this short for everyone's sakes
🧹 ~ Nifty ~ 🧹
A little. She has the biggest fluctuation though and will be either 2 or like 7, no in betweens.
Always has energy. She's bouncing off the walls. Because of this, Angel is the last person asked to take care of her because he'll give her candy and then she gets even worse. He's also a little cautious because of the one time he made her cry, but Nifty just kinda drifts over to him anyways.
Husk usually gets stuck looking after the lil bugger. It'll start as Alastor's problem, then he conveniently disappears and Vaggie gives her to "kitty" (it's not that they don't love her, they do, she's just a lot lol). I imagine little Nif and Husk have a similar dynamic to Boo and Sully in Monsters Inc.
The only way to get her to sleep is with radio static. The white noise calms her down. Bonus points if you give her a fluffy plush to hold as well.
🐱 ~ Husk ~ 🐱
Husk doesn't really like children, even of the regressing variety. It's not that he hates them, he'd just prefer to not have to interact with them as much as he can. The most he'll do is babysit, but even then he's a little clueless.
Tends to get stuck with Angel the most, but he prefers Nifty just because he's been around her the most over the years.
Has the bar stocked up with different juices and milk and other drinks for kids. Also has a wide variety of sippy cups with different themes for different littles. Charlie likes the ducky one, Angel has one with crabs on it, and Nifty's are all plain. Everyone uses the space themed ones, though, so he has the most of those.
He has a little nook under the bar that someone could use as a little hiding space as well. If the littles are playing hide and seek and someone goes down there, Husk is the last to snitch.
If you wanna see specific scenarios or hcs about certain characters, feel free to send in an ask!!
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joannechocolat · 1 year
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On why women’s rage is a superpower
My mother hates my new book. I gave her a proof just a few days ago, and although she’s still only halfway through, she can’t wait to tell me all the ways in which she hates my novel.
“Is this science fiction?” she says. (She detests science fiction.) “Were you ill when you wrote this?” (I was.) And repeatedly, she says: “Why are the women so angry?”
I get it. She’s out of her comfort zone. At 83, with no internet, no interest in pop culture and a deep-rooted hatred of anything close to horror or the supernatural, she wasn’t my target audience. And yet it’s never easy to hear such criticism from a loved one. But in some ways, she isn’t wrong. Broken Light is an angry book. It came from a time of lockdown, when social media was my only window onto the world. It came from a place of trauma, when I was fighting cancer. It came from a place of corrupt hierarchies, self-serving politicians, anti-vaxxers, Covid deniers, victim-blamers, and those eager to blame all their woes on minorities. And of course, it arose against the background of the #MeToo campaign and the Sarah Everard murder – a murder that shocked the nation, not least because the murderer turned out to be a serving police officer with a reputation for sexual misconduct - which unleashed a collective howl of protest, as well as an ugly, misogynistic backlash. Even so, my story came as something of a surprise to me: the story of a woman’s rage, and, on reaching the age at which women often feel least valued, her coming into her power.
It surprised me, most of all because I wasn’t an angry person. At least, I didn’t think I was. Those who know me describe me as someone who tends to flee conflict, who generally tries to find common ground, who gets upset when people fight. And yet, writing this story, I found myself saying and feeling certain things on behalf of my heroine, Bernie Moon; things I might not have said for myself, but which felt right and urgent, and true, and strangely liberating.
Anger has a bad press. A woman’s anger, especially. While men are encouraged to express feelings of justified anger, women are often criticized when they try to do the same. Angry women are often portrayed as “harpies,” “banshees,” “Furies.” It suggests that a man’s rage is righteous, but that a woman’s is unnatural, making her into a monster. Male anger is powerful. The God of the Bible is one of wrath. Seldom is he ever portrayed as expressing any other emotion. In the same way, men and boys are often led to believe that expressing emotion is weak - except for anger, which is seen as acceptably masculine.
In comparison, women are often criticized when they show aggression. Angry women are hysterical, shrill, out of control, unreliable, unattractive, unfeminine. A perceived lack of “femininity” makes a woman less valuable, less worthy of respect and of protection. The Press coverage of women victims of violence is a case in point. A victim of violence needs to be attractive, white, gender conforming and virtuous in every way if she is not to be overlooked, or worse, portrayed as somehow having contributed to her misfortune. When trans teenager Brianna Ghey was stabbed, the Press were very quick to state that her murder was not thought to be a hate crime, whilst at the same time obsessing over – and questioning - her gender. When Nicola Bulley disappeared, police felt obliged to divulge details of her struggle with the menopause, as well as her alcohol issues, even though this was privileged information and of no public relevance. When Emma Pattison, the Head of Epsom College, was murdered alongside her daughter, the Press immediately assumed that her husband George must have felt “overshadowed” and “driven to distraction” by his wife’s prestigious job. In all three cases, the victim falls under the hostile scrutiny of the Press, while the perpetrator is given an excuse. In all three cases, the victim – one trans, one hormonal, one better-paid than her husband - is effectively portrayed as “unnatural”. Subtext: Unnatural women do not deserve the protection of the patriarchy. Unnatural women come to bad ends.    
Once you start to acknowledge it, rage grows at a surprising rate. Over the past three years, I have found myself growing increasingly angry. Angry at the injustices committed by our Government; t the greed of corporations; angry at the prejudice extended to those who are different.
Connecting with others on social media has made me more aware of the lives and experiences of those from different backgrounds to mine, and with different levels of privilege. For a long time I’d been resistant to calling myself a feminist. Feminists are angry, I thought. What right have you to be angry?
Growing older, I realize that this was my mother speaking. A woman of a certain generation, who although she was aware of the challenges of living in a patriarchy, still had a level of privilege that many women do not share. White, professional, cishet women can sometimes have the luxury of choosing not to be angry. White, professional, cishet women can sometimes have the illusion of equality. But feminism isn’t only for just one kind of woman. A feminist must look beyond the limits of their own experience. And that’s where the anger really starts: anger at injustice; anger at corruption and lies. Most of all, anger at the prejudice against certain people for just being themselves; for being transgender, or Black, or old, or simply not conforming to what a white, patriarchal society expects and values. And once you start seeing injustice, you start to see it everywhere. It’s like an eye, which, once opened, cannot unsee inequality.
My anger flourished in lockdown. A time of growing divisions. Masks are invaluable in a pandemic, and yet they inhibit connection. They serve as a kind of reminder of who can speak, and who is to be silenced. While Boris Johnson was urging the public to trust the police, a vigil for Sarah Everard was broken up, with violence, by officers citing lockdown laws. While elderly people were dying alone; while I drove for four hours just to go for a half-hour walk in the park with my son; while I sat alone in my chemo chair, politicians were partying. Billionaires were enriching themselves. Behind the mask, the eye opened wide. I caught myself making faces behind my disguise at strangers. There was something weirdly liberating about this; as if, behind the piece of cloth, I could express myself at last. Not unlike writing a book, in fact. On screen, the eye opened wider. Bernie Moon, my heroine, was unlike like me in many ways, and yet anger connected us. The anger that comes from helplessness; from seeing others mistreated. Anger at a society that propagates inequality. And the anger that comes from hormones – those mood-altering chemicals that everyone produces, and yet which allegedly make women erratic; unreliable; hormonal.
In his novel, Carrie, Stephen King tells the story of a girl, whose telekinetic powers are unleashed by her teenage hormones. Carrie is unpopular, bullied, isolated. Her rage finds an outlet in her power. Driven to breaking-point by the bullies, she becomes a monster. Of course she does: after all, the author of this tale is a man, writing from the perspective of a couple of thousand years’ worth of patriarchal inheritance. In literature, a woman’s anger is unnatural; monstrous. It leads to terrible, unnatural things: makes murderers and infanticides of Clytemnestra and Medea; monsters of Medusa and Scylla. Unnatural, monstrous women are always punished in literature, even while acknowledging that they are often the victims of men. And unnatural women are often seen as physically repulsive – a reminder that, to be valued and loved, women must be young, and pure, and conform to the standards of beauty set out by their society. In literature, just as in life, those women who do not conform tend to be less valued, less seen, and when they do appear, do so as wicked witches, evil stepmothers, ugly crones and hideous travesties of womanhood.
But what would happen if a woman took control of the narrative? In recent years, we have observed a number of retellings of Greek myths from the point of view of the monster. Stone Blind, by Nathalie Haynes; Medusa, by Jessie Burton; Circe, by Madeline Miller. In both cases, the monstrous woman is seen from a different perspective; her rage absorbed and justified; her narrative reclaimed from a patriarchy that seeks to tame and subdue a woman’s rage, even at the cost of her life.
My new novel, Broken Light, comes from the same process of reclamation. It owes a debt to Carrie, but I have avoided the explicitly paranormal theme of the original, as well as the girl-on-girl bullying and the psychopathic mother. In my version, Carrie lives; marries her childhood sweetheart; internalizes all her rage and suffocates her power. Until the menopause – a topic which until recently has been largely misunderstood and taboo – at which point her power returns, and with it, a new kind of freedom. Freedom from the male gaze; from the responsibilities of motherhood; from the largely impossible expectations of society. Unlike puberty, menopause is triggered by a lack of certain hormones; and yet the symptoms can be just as dramatic and isolating. Loss of libido, exhaustion, depression, emotional outbursts as well as unpredictable and alarming hot flashes – my version of Carrie’s pyrokinesis. Whether my heroine’s powers stem from any kind of paranormal source is very much up to the reader to decide – after all, paranormal is only a step away from unnatural. And what counts as unnatural is in the eye of the reader – an eye that has been opened, I hope, to a series of new possibilities.
One is that rage is natural. Living in a patriarchy, women have a right to their rage. In fact, it seems more unnatural to me when women are not angry, given how much misogyny remains in our society. And growing old is natural. Being hormonal is natural. Differences are natural; so are disabilities. All women matter; whatever their age, or colour, or sexual orientation, or marital or reproductive status. The value of a woman’s life should not be defined by her popularity, or her age, or her looks, or her kids, or her value to the patriarchy. And no-one else gets to decide what a woman ought to be. A woman is not what, but who - a person, not an object; an active participant in her world. Women have lived too long behind the mask. They deserve their own stories. Stories in which they are allowed the full range of human possibility. So, to answer my mother’s question: Why are the women so angry?
Because it’s a superpower.
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tcfactory · 3 months
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I was talking with someone the other day and it got me thinking about something.
I generally run with the idea that part of the reason why Luo Binghe became THE target for Shen Qingqiu's abuse was because Shen Qingqiu fell for the 'white sheep' routine. Like, it was a lot of things all together: coming to the sect at an unfortunate time (Shen Qingqiu was in a mental health freefall because he was at a bottleneck and struggling to form his core, and here comes Luo Binghe with his perfect aptitude who's expected to blitz through all of the hurdles Shen Qingqiu sweated blood to scale), the pettiness he felt towards Liu Qingge when he picked Luo Binghe out (another bitter association), Luo Binghe having Ning Yingying right away as a friend and support (who stuck with him even against her shizun's orders!!) when Shen Qingqiu was all alone, the jealousy that however briefly Luo Binghe had a loving mother
and the crown jewel on this cake was that Luo Binghe, despite having suffered the death of a loved one and poverty on the streets, still seemed like a naive little ray of sunshine. And no matter what Shen Qingqiu does to him, he remains pathetic and vulnerable in the way that makes kinder people want to take care of him and protect him.
Shen Qingqiu is not a kind man and he knows intimately that the world isn't kind either. Not to pathetic children who don't grow up with the power of a rich family to put them somewhere safe where they can become pathetic, maybe well-meaning maybe not adults. To him it's the harbinger of failure.
The Luo Binghe he sees after picking him up is not smart, not crafty in the way he expects a street kid to be. He's not driven (wanting to make his late mother proud... motivation like that ought to fade with the memories. In four or five years Luo Binghe won't even recall the face or voice of his beloved mother and then Shen Qingqiu will be left with a child with no drive whatsoever). All Luo Binghe has going for him is his bright eyed optimism and his servile nature (which cannot, should not last in a cultivator) and his exceptional aptitude, which is useless on its own.
I struggle to believe that Luo Binghe was the first on the peak who was naturally talented (Shen Qingqiu's ruined cultivation base put him so far behind that even with his hard work, he lagged behind Shang Qinghua whose cultivation is mediocre at best). Or the first to have a support network of friends or a loving family. And as much as Shen Qingqiu resented them for having these gifts that he didn’t, he never tried to destroy them the way he tried to destroy Luo Binghe.
Luo Binghe has all the tools of greatness and the hallmarks of failure all in one and it's that combination that triggers Shen Qingqiu's hate. Shen Qingqiu, in his rush to spite Liu Qingge, picked up trash that glitters. He can never admit to this mistake, so he decides that he's going to drive off Luo Binghe or destroy him, whichever happens first, because he can't imagine being stuck with this, this... pathetic little beast. One way or another, he will get rid of him before he can become a stain on Shen Qingqiu's reputation.
And we know how all of that turned out...
But what if he did see through it. Luo Binghe slipped up in his introduction and Shen Qingqiu immediately saw him for the white lotus that he was.
Shen Qingqiu knows the world, he knows its monsters and its beasts. So he looks at this child (not as weak and battered from his life on the street as others, the promise of strength and a bright future written in his meridians) pretending to be small and weak and pathetic and he's terrified.
Only the most dangerous predators pretend to be prey. He took a cuckoo into his nest, he accepted a wolf into his flock. Now it's his job to deal with it, before it grows fangs and bites the hand that feeds it.
He doesn't trust his martial siblings to listen to him on this, to hear him (unpleasant and sharp and biting, hated and hateful) out over the little beast (teary eyed and pathetic, pretty little thing you want to take home and keep safe).
He always did hide his fear the best with hate.
He will wear down this intruder until he can find out what his goal is and destroy him, before the beast can destroy them first.
It's almost a relief, when Luo Binghe stands on the edge of the abyss, his sheepskin torn and staring at him with the resentful eyes of a demon. It's the one moment when he doesn't hate Luo Binghe; he is a demon who will act as a demon does, as is his nature.
Pushing him into oblivion is
relief.
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Note
With the way Walt wasted no time to start abusing Jesse as soon as they partnered up, and considering Walt treats Jesse like he's his son AND his wife... Do you think this means Walt had been bursting at the seams to abuse his real son and real wife this whole time, and only with Jesse did he have a chance to do so?
*Pushes glasses up on nose as though I am a respected scholar in a legitimate field of study* Ok so I hate to answer a compelling question with a kind of roundabout, not at all concrete answer but here goes: Walter wants to do whatever Walter wants to do, in the moment, without having to concern himself with that pesky, pedestrian little irritant known as ye olde consequences. He’s your basic old white fart who, because he grew up with the oxymoron of the white man as a vehicle for both exceptionalism and the Everyman, believes that consequences should not apply to him, and feels that he has been hard done by because, shocker, his stagnancy prior to the beginning of the series hasn’t resulted in everything he ever wanted falling into his lap! He does abuse both Skyler and Flynn over the course of the series, the assault on Skyler in season two being the most overtly violent of these instances, though it is heavily implied in season five that this isn’t even a one time occurrence; “I can’t even keep you out of my bed!” It’s also in season two that he peer pressures his teenage son into drinking to excess to gain the upper hand in his one-sided pissing contest with Hank, and this mirrors the ways in which he flexes his control over Jesse in front of Gus and Mike. Walter is dangerous precisely because he doesn’t view himself as an abuser, it’s not like he wistfully daydreams about slouching around the house in a wifebeater, terrorizing his wife and kids until they walk on eggshells around him. In fact, he’s shown throughout the series to act like a little pissbaby throwing a little pissbaby tantrum whenever he’s treated by his family like the monster he is. He wants to be able to act on his anger, to rape his wife and bully his son, without being subject to any of the organic repercussions these actions would inevitably induce. He doesn’t want to play the part of the mild-mannered family man anymore, or put in any of the work required to keep up that front, but he still wants to be seen as the provider and benevolent patriarch. He wants to have his fucking cake and eat it to.
That’s where Jesse comes in.
Walter loves Jesse, he does. The problem was never that he didn’t love Jesse, it was why he loved Jesse. Walter loves Jesse more than Flynn, that much was confirmed by Vince in a quote I can’t find anymore for the fucking life of me so you’ll just have to take my word for it ig. Walter might even love Jesse more than Skyler. But he doesn’t love Jesse as a person so much as a conduit, as an indispensable resource. It’s pretty vital, actually, that the person Walter projects all his shit onto isn’t a part of his immediate family, because then Jesse can be whatever he wants him to be. It’s great for Walter that Jesse’s a junkie, because then, according to societal norms, he doesn’t have to see Jesse as human when he’s taking out all of his anger on him. When Jesse isn’t being malleable enough for his liking, or even if Walt’s mad about something else entirely, then Jesse’s just a junkie, a nobody, an ungrateful, petulant fuck-up. When Walter is being rightfully shut out by his family or needs Jesse for some material task, then Jesse is practically family to him. They’re partners. It’s a terrible burden to put on an impressionable 24-year-old, a pretty fucking shitty thing to do to someone who trusts you, more than they should, and an impossible exception to live up to, to be someone’s everything.
So when Jesse inevitably fails at it, inevitably falls short of this perfectly imperfect idealization of himself, he is punished, horribly.
Walter never would have done the things he did to Jesse to Flynn, or to Skyler.
He doesn’t love them as much.
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watchyourbuck · 5 months
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“Is this… turning you on?” if it sparks joy 👀👀👀 xx
Buck was a little shit.
He kept shoving the whole spoonful inside his mouth and licking it clean, swirling his tongue around it like nobody’s business.
Drops of ice cream were spilling over the corner of his mouth, and going down his chin, to which he simply made throaty little sounds to, before wiping them off with the back of his hand.
Yeah, Buck was a little shit because he knew exactly what he was doing.
From across the table, Eddie stared at him with god given patience, breathing heavily and following his every move.
He had made him promise him that he wouldn’t touch him. That he’d only watch.
Thing is, they weren’t alone.
Submerged in menial conversation, Bobby, Hen and Chimney filled the rest of the seats around them. They barked and laughed and told stupid little jokes Eddie couldn’t bring himself to laugh at.
Somehow, none of them had realized something was off — except for Buck, of course, who was on his second bowl of Ben & Jerry’s.
“That’s what I said to him– ‘do you even work here?’, and he started panicking!”
Out of context, Chim’s words made no sense, but even if Eddie was uh, focused on something else, he was well aware that they were all making fun of their new probie.
“We should cut him so slack,” said their Captain, fooling absolutely no one. “We don’t want the guy to hate us.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, his gaze flickering only for a second to where Bobby sat, clutching his belly in laughter. Ravi was probably terrified of them all by now.
With a mild clink, Buck attracted Eddie’s attention back to him. He had an eyebrow raised, and he was frozen in the middle of his performance, waiting for his man to concentrate.
Eddie’s ears turned red. He glanced at their friends before straightening up in his seat, trying his best to hide the hand he was using to adjust himself every couple of minutes.
“I’m pretty sure he thought I was a man,” said Hen, to which Chimney doubled over himself to in silent laughter. “He saw me from behind!”
“How- how did he- ? Oh my god,” cackled Bobby, barely getting through the sentence. A tear was forming on the corner of his eye.
They hadn’t laughed like this in a minute.
In hindsight, Eddie would have loved to be a part of the conversation but Buck wouldn’t let up.
The tip of his tongue was now expertly tracing the metal, and although his head was turned to the side, his eyes were still on Eddie.
Dear god. This man was a monster.
Eddie closed his own, exhaling carefully. Both his hands were on his knees, turning white from the grip he had on them. He couldn’t let his will be broken. Not like this, not so embarrassingly easily.
He looked up, only to find the spoon had been replaced by one of Buck’s fingers. His index.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it- isn’t that the one he uses to open you up?
Jesus fucking Christ.
Buck smirked, withdrawing his finger from his mouth with a low pop, specifically made so only Eddie could hear. “Is this… turning you on?” he mouthed, the words trapped in the back of his throat.
Eddie wasn’t the best lip reader, but that he got. “You’re an animal,” he mouthed back, short of panting on the table.
Buck smiled, a little too brightly. He pushed the bowl away from him, earning himself the attention of their friends. “Okay, I think Eddie and I have uh-, a pending discussion. If you’ll excuse us.”
With that, he stood up. He must’ve known his words were as suggestive as they got, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked at Eddie and let out a small ‘c’mon’, before extending his hand to him.
Bracing himself, Eddie mimicked his moves, standing — bent forward, of course, as he didn’t want to poke anyone in the eye —, then grabbing his hand with more need than he wanted to admit.
Hen scrunched up her face. “Guys, c’mon,” she sighed, covering her face with her hands.
Like a child, Chimney made a disgusted noise before averting his eyes.
Buck chortled, leading Eddie around the table, and pushing him so he’d walk in front of him. He let go of his hand to put both of them on Eddie’s hips, prompting him to move.
“Buck, we talked about this!” Bobby yelled, his voice following them as they made their way down the stairs. “Don’t use the firetruck!”
Buck laughed, jumping the last step. He pulled Eddie into the locker room by the collar of his shirt, but not before shouting back. “Yes, Cap!”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
please take this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday!
tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @callmenewbie @lover-of-mine & @hippolotamus thank you all so much! I’ll get to each one of your works shortly💗
tagging in return @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @mattsire @fionaswhvre @buckleyobsessed @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @smilingbuckley @housewifebuck @bucksbirthmark @firemedicdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @evanbegins @butraura @loserdiaz @jeeyuns & @eddie---diaz let me know if you wish to be removed!✨
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circe69 · 1 year
Text
𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌.
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simon "ghost" riley x reader
repost from a few days ago, i fixed it up a lil' and am putting it back out there again. "you look slutty as ever, y/n."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Previously this morning, you had a very important mission that required your services as being the bait, essentially making yourself as desirable as possible to obtain whatever information your boss needed, even if it was the smallest of knowledge. Your tight, velvety, black dress and strapped heels weren't your usual attire, of course, but the rest of the task force knew the reason you had been hired, so it wouldn't strike them as strange when you greeted them.
You walked into the dining area to find your whole troop congregating around the round tables placed randomly along small room. Some were talking to each other, laughing, making jokes they were too old to make, others were eating, keeping to themselves. Your eyes scanned the entire room before taking a seat yourself, the metal screeching on the tile as you scooted in.
"Look who it 's," a voice came from across the room, bouncing off those stupid ugly walls. The unnaturally low voice came from none other than Ghost himself, perhaps the most annoying man you'd ever had the pleasure of engaging with. He sauntered over to you, splitting the waters of men paying close attention to where he walked, watching one muddy boot stomp in front of the other.
You stayed silent. Even as he neared you, you refused to look up. You glanced over to the granite counters, finding the dozens of hot coffees you had bought for the whole team. Sure, most of them were unbearable, but you were feeling nice this morning. There was something so refreshing about doing something for someone else with a genuine purpose. It was exhausting, throwing yourself at old, creepy men and pretending to be in love for even a sliver of understanding about your enemies, when you were quite the opposite.
You felt Ghost's eyes on you, never lingering in one place but instead traveling the entirety of your body. His eyes being like lasers, you felt the sting of every exposed inch being singed. "You look slutty as ever, Y/N." His body bended down to your level, his head slightly cocking to the side as he spoke. You stayed quiet still, even though your head was reeling with heavy-toned remarks and insults that would make the man before you grovel in embarrassment. You took a sip of your latte, and carefully set the cup back down on the table before making direct eye contact with him.
You hadn't ever truly enjoyed Ghost's company; you weren't sure if anyone did. There had been rumors of him having a terrible past, terrible childhood, and maybe if he had been nicer, more charming, you would've had sympathy.
Your eyes burned into his, it was the only place they could burn into. Everything else was covered, and you liked to imagine his mask of more of a security blanket than anything. Ghost, the all-knowing and powerful, deadly monster needed a mask on at all times to appear mysterious and aloof. Maybe he really did just like the masks, maybe he liked the attention, maybe you needed therapy for always imagining the worst of everyone.
You opened your mouth, "Yeah, well this slut just bought you coffee."
The chair screeches and gasps from your teammates harmonized as you stood abruptly, forcing Ghost to blink at your sudden movement.
"I've had it with your inappropriate, unoriginal remarks. It's highly unprofessional for a man of your talent and reputation to go around calling your fellow soldier something of that manner."
He smiled that deathly smile, you swear you saw the fabric glide across his face, and you hated how much you liked it. "Rather predictable of me, right? Isn't that what you said to Price a few weeks ago when you were spilling your secrets to him?"
Your knuckles were white, out of embarrassment or rage you weren't sure. All you knew was that getting under people's skin was Ghost's specialty, and you were no exception.
"Quite the opposite, sir."
His hand slammed on the table, making your drink spill onto the floor. Your body reacted in a way that was somewhat embarrassing, you knew just how much flinching out of fear encouraged him to just scare you more.
"Don't talk to your Lieutenant like that." His eyes grew dark, and as uninviting as they were, you didn't dare to break from them to watch the troop leave quietly.
You took a step closer to him, your black, blood-stained stiletto hitting the marble floor inches away from his feet. You leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I won't waste one minute to reciprocate how you talk to me. I'll do it well," you paused to stomp on his toes with your heel, forcing a pained groan out of his mouth, "and I'll enjoy it too."
You crossed your arms as you watched his seemingly indestructible body writhe. He sat down in a chair and whispered curses under his uneven breath.
He slowly looked up at you and didn't fail to notice your magnificent posture, your heavenly glow beaming from your face only got brighter when you inflicted pain on someone who needed to be taught a lesson. Ghost calmly stood and as his height grew, your eyes stayed glued onto his. You always hated how much taller he was than you; his ego was tall enough. All the sudden, Price walked into the room, followed by a few of his new trainees.
Ghost took a step forward and slid a hand up your thigh, only to rest it on your hip and leaned down to whisper in your ear,
"Meet me in my room."
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femoso-seben · 4 months
Text
Humanoid Monster
Part 1, Part 3
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Laswell sighed as the delegation dragged on. Of course, neither side sent their leadership only lackeys to demand impossibilities for the others to complete. They still tasted blood in their mouth for their fallen. The human delegation was a man called Vladimir Makarov, a young Russian who led his paramilitary group in deep Siberia.
“Why should we agree to these terms?” Makarov asks, how he knew, or let alone who taught him English was beyond Laswell. Most humans don’t know more than one language. Rarely do they speak the languages of countries far away from them. Humanity is landlocked. It was a way to ensure humanity never teamed up to defeat the monsters.
“Why should we agree to your request either?” Laswell sneers her wings twitching, from her anger. She read about this man, how he slaughtered many monsters and used their pelts as decoration. He was fighting for a greater Russia, with only humans in it, abolishing any monster or hybrid in sight. A human utopia!
They were talking in circles, Switzerland’s military standing at watch ready to shoot both delegations dead if given the chance. They weren’t achieving anything here.
“Since this is a peace treaty give us the names of your task force,” Makarov asks, Laswell knew it was personal for him. 141 and he was in a long constant struggle.
“Give us the files on the Pale Death, White Fang, Angel of Death, and Hunter.” Laswell strikes back. Each one of those women caused so many problems, that they must have been resistance rebels.
Makarov pursed his lips and glared at Laswell, “We’ll give you the files for White Fang and Hunters. As for the Angel of Death, she wasn’t one of us, but as for the pale death? No, we will not.”
“Then you will only get the files on, Roach,” Laswell spoke. It seems like Makarov is only giving information on the dead so she’ll do the same. Makarov frowns.
“Deal.” They both knew a single member of Task Force 141 was far better than any human, dead or alive, all except for the Pale Death.
By the end of the meeting, they had only agreed to share files of the dead and nothing more they merely moved a single inch to the finish post. As Laswell walks out Soap, Price, Graves, and Ghost we’re waiting for her.
“Where’s Gaz?”
“Helping the Hapries to fly,” Soap rolls his eyes, “the human woman can’t even raise a harpy! They should need the least amount of training!” Price touched his shoulder silencing the Sergeant.
“What happened?” Price asks.
“Not much, I was able to get information on White Fang and Hunter,” Laswell sighed.
“Those two are fucking dead, at least get the Pale Death—”
“Their delegate is Makarov,” everyone froze and a low growl imitated from all of them.
“He’s here? That terrorist?” Ghost steps closer to Laswell.
“C’mon let’s review the files maybe their connections, sure White Fang and Pale Death worked together,” Laswell spoke up.
Jezebel reappeared and began to lead them to a place outside of the meeting point, a spacious military camp where they were staying. It was more like Switzerland wanted to watch them, making sure they didn’t unpack them negatively.
Laswell hands over the packet to Price, Ghost, Graves, and Soap. They slowly scan through the files.
White Fang:
name: Belinda Wolf
Age: 23
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 140lb
History: grew up on a resistance compound deep in Akaska forest. Grew up hunting animals to survive. Favorite targets were werewolves said they were the apex of trotted a hunter could win.
statue: KIA
The photo was of a plan-looking woman, nothing remarkable, but for Soap he felt a sense of victory over this wretch. He hunted the White Fang down and butchered her like she butchered his troops. He hated her flesh making sure she was truly dead.
Hunter:
Name: Rawiya Abadi
Age: 31
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 120 lbs
History: The daughter of a wealthy (free) man she grew up owning and hunting exotic animals. She soon turned radicalized and began to hunt down every predator species of hybrids for their pelts and horns, wanting to collect every type of monster.
Status: KIA
“We’ll these aren’t helpful.” Price grumbles.
“A bunch of psychos.” Soap drops the file onto the table.
“We’ll theirs one thing for sure,” Graves spoke up, “White Fang didn’t work together, and White Fang came after Hunter.”
“What are you insinuating?”
“Maybe their master and apprentices? After all, they share the same M.O. two hunters, maybe they did meet up but it’s not stated here.” Graves continues.
“We never found Hunter’s body, maybe Hunter set up that compound and trained up an apprentice?”
“What about mother and daughter?” Ghost brought up.
“That could be plausible,” Soap said.
“Makarov said the Angel of Death isn’t connected to the resistance forces.”
“That human is lying.” Soap sneers his sharp claws poking out.
“It could be plausible,” Ghost spoke up. “The Angel of Death was in deep monster territory, to be a resistance force is unlikely as it was hard to pick that human out of a crowd. She acted like one of the enslaved.”
“That one is most likely inspired by the resistance.” Price grunts out.
“The fact Switzerland allowed a killer like the Pale Death to live here is insane,” Soap said.
“Mother Maia… how insulting.” Graves notes, “The Pale Death working with our children?”
“I bet Maia isn’t her real name,” Soap mutters.
“Agree,” Price grunts out smoke leaking from his maw.
“Why don’t we do some recon whilst we’re here” Graves stands up, “Price you stay with Laswell, Ghost asked the young Gargoyles about their life, and I will talk to Mother Maia.”
“What are you planning?” Laswell folds her arms, “Shepard wants a smooth deal where we get our concessions.”
“I know, but something feels fishy about this place.” Graves adds, “It feels… stage.”
“Let me—“
“I want you and Gaz to watch the children, and see if their body languages give anything away.” Sops clenched his fist but nodded and sat down.
—————————— /\ ——————————
Gaz looked at the little harpies their little down feather wings gathered around him like lost chicklings looking for their mommas. He felt himself smiling at the small yet wide-eyed little owls just staring at him.
Pricilla is seventeen, and the oldest person there. She had also spent the longest time at the orphanage.
“So you’ve been an orphan this long?” Gaz asks.
“No, Mother Maia is my adopted Mother,” Gaz eyes widen.
“When did she adopt you?”
“I was eight.”
“Does she have any other kids?”
“No,” Pricilla sighs. “She cannot adopt anymore, in Switzerland only monsters can adopt monsters, same with humans. We came to Switzerland mother and daughter,” Gaz nods and looks at all the little Hapries.
“There’s so many children here,” Gaz mutters there were at least fifteen harpies of flight age.
“Many monsters abandoned their injured kids here, many of them have actual parents who don’t want them, but a small few made it here on their own… the human orphanage is way more kids.”
“Human orphanage?” Gaz questions.
“A lot of humans give up their babies because they can’t care for them, some are given up because their parents died after arriving.”
“how do you know this?”
“We all go to school together.” Gaz’s mouth drops. Humans? Monsters! Together? In school! No way!
“We’re gonna narrow their football field for this flight practice.”
“… you know this land used to not be Switzerland,” Gaz said as they walked a mile to the place.
“I know it was a part of France, right?” Pricilla answer. Gaz nod.
“We monsters don’t use the old colonial name the humans created.” Pricilla nods, she soon arrives at a school and there a few humans are playing.
“Jakob,” Pricilla calls out, a blonde boy, around Pricilla’s age wave.
“We need to barrow your football field.”
“Why?” He asks walking over to the fence of the tennis court.
“Flying practice!” Pricilla cheers.
“I’ll go tell Gramps he can turn on the lights.”
“Thank you!”
“You seem friendly with that human,” Gaz said trying not to growl at her. How could she forsake her kind and be around humans? Doesn’t she know they are destructive and cruel?
“He’s my classmate.” She bashfully said. Cold realization dawned on Gaz this young harpy like that human. He was a decent-looking boy but it made his blood boil.
By the time they reach the football field, the lights turn on.
It was going to be a long night, the sun was setting and they had a few hours to teach them. The wind picked up, his wings flared out and the older harpies watched him, eyes wide and eager to learn.
Gaz couldn’t help but smile at these small harpies taking flight, their wings clumsily flapping in the air.
Taglist: @kkaaaagt, @kaoyamamegami, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore
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dahliamalfoy97 · 1 year
Text
ETERNALLY YOURS- Kokushibo x reader one shot
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Synopsis: this is an au where Kokushibo is still a demon but it’s more of a legend type thing and the villagers fear him because he steals girls at night and disappears with them. I’m not going to give too much away because I don’t want to spoil. You’ll just have to read below to find out what it’s about.
Warning: SMUT 18+ content, MDNI, kidnapping, mentions of murder and killing, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex, blowjob, penetration, praise kink, degradation kink, choking, blood, umm just explicit content so beware.
Word Count: 3,924
———-
They say he comes at night.
On the night of every full moon, the Demon of the Night will randomly kidnap a girl and that girl would never return. No one knew what this monster did with the girls he took but everyone had a feeling he either fed on them or killed them.
So everyone was terrified of him. Everyone except for you. You were curious of the man of legend. But you yourself wanted to be taken away from this place. You hated it here in your hometown. You hated the people. They had tormented you ever since your parents had died in a fire. You had been the survivor but you had been left with some gnarly scars specifically on your face. So you were often bullied and mocked for your appearance. Even the adults would take part in your torture. You hated everyone of them. And wished death would either come to them or to you. To save you from this never ending hell.
Since no one would take you in, you were left sleeping in a barn in a loft, up above the horses and cows. It often stunk and your clothes were always filthy and torn, but it was better than nothing. You often were able to sneak into the baths at night to avoid the townspeople. You had often wondered about running away from this hometown and starting a new life, but you were worried about how outsiders would see you. So you stayed.
It was a few minutes before midnight, the moon was full and brighter than ever. But tonight instead of it's usual white color, it was a deep red. You wondered if this would be your night. this had been a night you had definitely cleaned yourself for. For you didn't want to be filthy. You wanted to be ready for him.
Unable to sleep, you lie awake on the makeshift bed you had created from your clothes, staring out the window at the moon. Waiting.
Thirty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of the demon.
Suddenly, screaming fills the night outside. You get up to peak outside the window. Your eyes widen when you see the town in flames. You scramble up, and head down the ladder. You run outside but a hand grabs you, and you're yanked against the barn wall.
A tall figure has you pinned but you can make out the face because it's covered with a hood.
"Are you ready my love?" A deep low voice rumbles and you can't help but bite your lip.
"Are you him? The Demon of The Night?" You ask, desperately trying to get a look at what hid underneath the shadows of his hood.
"Yes, I've come to take you with me".
"Then please take me away."
Urgently, he scoops you in his arms, arms hooked underneath your legs, bridal style you are whisked away through what appears to be black mist. You cling tightly to him, not sure where he was taking you. But you didn't care.
He sets you down on what appears to be a bed in a darkly lit room. He sits beside you.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"Not you, dear one. You're the only one I don't want to kill. I want you to be mine, my queen."
You shake your head covering your face, "but why me? I'm ugly. A monster. Were the other girls not enough for you?"
Ripping your hands away from your face, He yanks his hood down and suddenly you're met with not one but 3 pairs of golden eyes, covered in deep red sclera. You reach out to touch his face, with is marred with reddish flame scar like mark decorating the left corner of his forehead stopping right above his ear and then he had some more on his right chin. You weren't disgusted. But merely curious. You were sure most people would be repulsed by such a face. But you- you found him beautiful. He had long black hair that cascaded into waves all the way past his waist.
"You're not ugly, you are gorgeous," he growls, "Compared to me you are everything this world doesn't deserve. Those girls causes you harm. That's why I kidnapped and killed them."
You gasp, eyes widening, "you killed them for me?"
He holds your hands in his letting you continue to map him with your hands, "you prayed for someone to save you from that hell of a town right? For someone to make them pay for hurting you every day?"
Again you're taken aback, "how did you know?"
He presses a kiss to your right hand, fire shoots into your entire soul, you didn't know why a demon made your soul soar. Him, out of all beings was the one to send shivers of warmth down your spine, the one to make your twos curl. But here you were out of breath from just the small gesture alone.
"I heard your prayer, dear one. I heard you calling for me. Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"Well it has to be possible if you are," you reply.
"You may not remember me from our previous lives. Because every time your memory is erased every time you are reborn. But you and I have been destined as soulmates for eternity. But since i am a demon and you are a mortal, life always seems to take you away from me. I can't die but you can. For I am not allowed to have a happy life for destroying so many. So it is my curse to always watch you die. But I am always finding a way to break this curse. But the only way to do that is for you to become a demon. With me."
"So why haven't I become one before?" You felt an immense pain in your gut even though you had no memory of your past lives with him. Something untethered bound you to him you could feel it in the way he touched your hand. There was an invisible string that connected your soul to his and you knew he was telling the truth. Your heart hurt to know he's been suffering this curse for so long.
"Because in your past lives you've had everything you've needed in your mortal life so you haven't wanted to become one. And something tragic always happens to you. So I've never had the chance-"
"Then take it now," you demand, "make me yours, Demon of the Night."
"Please, my name is Kokushibo, call me by my name, and you really want to bind your soul to mine forever and surrender your mortal life to me?"
"Please," you cry. "Please make me yours, Koku."
That's all he needs to cradle your face in his hands and to close the gap between you. You gasp when his hot demanding lips collide with yours ever so gently, yet all consuming at the same time. You move so you're straddling his lap. Legs booked around his waist as you cling to him in lotus like position. You wound your hands in his long hair, whimpering at how soft and silky it feels. He growls when you tug at his scalp, trying to pull him as close and the gentle rhythm is replaced with hungry, desperate one as you desperately try to press yourself even closer- as close as possibly could get your bodies with all the in between. You rock yourself against his hard length that's hidden underneath his purple kimono. You could tell he was massive with how heavy and hard he felt underneath you. You pull eagerly at his kimono wanting it off. But he pulls away.
"Not so fast dear one", he chuckles, his deep voice going straight to your core and you let out a whine. "I really need you to understand that once we do this, once we cross this line, there's no going back." His breath hovers above your exposed neck peaking through your flimsy shirt that did nothing to hide you since it was full of holes. You knew your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, just his mere presence was enough to turn you on.
"I know, I want this," you whisper, with determined fervor. "I may not remember my past lives with you, but something in my soul is tied to you and I know I can't live without you. So please let's not repeat the past.  Make me yours so we can be together forever."
"You're absolutely sure?"
You nod, "one hundred percent."
With no further hesitation, his mouth on yours again. This time with way more force than before. His hands reach up, ripping your shirt into shreds and discarding it's pieces on the ground. He takes them both in his large hands and fondles them, you arch and moan into his touch. Coming alive with every kneed and tweak. It felt like you were clay in his hands. For him to mold and break. To tear and piece back together. His lips left yours to leave hungry kisses along your neck. You felt sharp scrap along your skin as his fangs grazed it.  Nibbling on slightly enough to sting and leave a mark but not enough to make it bleed.
You were a mess in his lap, rocking and whimpering over his clothed member frantic for more of whatever he gave you.
"Please Koku, take me," you murmur in desperate pleas.
"Fuck, I already love hearing you beg for me," he rasps, against your skin. Nipping on your nipple, causing you to cry out.
He lets go of your breasts push you back on the bed, he towers over you, before leaning back down to kiss you again. He trails kisses down your body from your collarbone, down your stomach, his hands caressing running along your thighs, ripping the rest of fabric you wore off of you. Leaving you in just your panties, which were soaked already. His kisses move to your thighs, creating a path up to your center. Each kiss sending bolts of electrify. He pauses , hovering, over your clothed core. His gold irises glow in pride at the dampness of them. His index finger runs along the material.
"I can't wait to taste you, dear one. I can smell your sweet arousal from here and it makes me insatiable."
Immediately , he tears off your panties and wastes no time diving in, making you his own personal feast as he devours you with his mouth. His tongue swirling around your clit in delicious patterns. You grip his hair tugging him in deeper and eagerly grind on his face. Eliciting appreciative growls and hums that end you into overdrive with the vibrations.
"Shit, Koku, don't stop," you cry, head thrown back. Eyes shut. Immediately, you feel a sharp pain on your clit, your eyes blink open. Finding those golden eyes glaring at you in disapproval.
"Don't close your eyes," he growls, then he resumes, fûcking you with his mouth, as soon as he deems you wet enough, he inserts a finger. You whimper at the foreign feeling. For this was your first time.
"Koku," you murmur softly, "you should know I've never done this with anyone."
He stills immediately gold irises locking on yours with surprise, "you mean no one's ever touched you? You're a virgin?"
You shake your head, "no, you're my first."
He smirks, something feral brews in those eyes, "oh you have no idea how happy that makes me. That I'll be your first and I'll definitely be your last, and anyone who tries to look at you or even think about you. I'll kill them. You're mine, and mine only. You got that?"
You nod, tears forming in your eyes. For no one had ever wanted you. "I just can't believe you want me as yours. No one has. They've always said I'm ugly and that I'm a monster."
"Well those fuckers are wrong, they're the monsters. You are magnificent and absolutely beautiful," he growls, "you're a fûcking queen. A goddess meant to be worshipped. And that is what I'll do as your king and your mate I'm going to worship the fuck out of you."
You can't help but cry at this, you had never felt so desired. So wanted. Those cries turn into moans as he continues to eat your pussy, adding a second and third finger. Curling them around you to find your sweet spot. Once he does he begins fucking you mercilessly with his fingers. Stretching you out so good.
"You feel so good, Koku," you praise.
"No, you’re the one who feels exquisite," he grunts. With the combination of his praise and the rapid thrusts of his fingers, you feel yourself clenching around his fingers and coming undone.
You watch in a daze as he stands up sucking your juices off his fingers. He discards of his own clothes. Your jaw drops at how beautifully ripped he is. As if cut from marble. Every ridge and plane of his body was pure art. And his cock, it was massive. You immediately sat up and crawled to him, reaching out to grasp it but he stops you.
"You can do that another time ," he says. "Right now I need to be inside you. This night is all about making you feel good."
"But I want to make you feel good too," you beg.
"Making you feel good will make me feel good."
"Please," you demand again. "To thank you for saving me."
He grins, "okay. Since you beg so prettily."
You first reach up to touch his chest though, running your hands to feel the ridges of his chest. He inhales sharply. Feeling your warm touch against his. You truly were a miracle for his cold and dark heart. You press some kisses along his chest and down towards his awaiting cock. Which was standing hard and stiff against his stomach. You take it in your hands, gently stroking in. You didn't really know what you were doing, but something in you seemed to remember how to touch and please him. For he let out a groan of pleasure as you stroked his shaft. His cock much bigger than your hands. It was thick and girthy. Hot and heavy against your touch. Your thighs ached. You lean forward, running your tongue along his slit before sucking on his head slightly. Before licking along his shaft and along his underside. Humming in pleasure at his salty taste. You take him further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to take him in as far as you go. Choking slightly when it reaches the back of your throat. You pull off only to take him again setting a rhythm of bobbing your head up and down, gripping his thighs as you continue to suck him off.
He grips your hair to tug it out of your face, deep moans fall from his lips, "you're doing so good, goddess. Your mouth feels so good around my cock."
Tears spring from your eyes the deeper you take him, saliva dripped from your mouth. But you didn't stop.
"Keep going", he urges, guiding your head helping you keep a steady rhythm. "Such a good girl. "
His grunts become more erratic and you reach to cup his balls, squeezing them lightly. But when you do that he pulls out.
"You do that and you're going to make me cum," he growls. "I don't want to cum yet, not until I'm inside that pretty pussy of yours."
Shortly he's pushing you down on the bed, pulling me towards the edge of the bed. Spreading my legs wide. He grips his cock, stroking it. "You don't know how long I've been aching to be inside you. To make you officially mine."
He takes his cock and runs it up and down along your slit. Mixing his precum and your arousal together. Before lining up with your entrance.
"Since it's your first time, let me know if it hurts. I'll try to be gentle at first. But it'll probably sting just a little. But I got you"
"I've taken worse in my life, Koku," you assure him, "I'm sure I can handle you just fine."
That's all the encouragement he needs, to begin pushing his tip inside you. And god, just his head alone was big. It stretched you out in ways you had never been stretched before. Your walls clenched around as he pushed his way through. The stretch was unfamiliar and was a little painful but it felt good the way he filled you up. The way you two were connected.
"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight," he growls.
At last he's fully seated inside of you, once you've adjusted to his size he slowly pulls out before slamming in again. He grips your waist in his hands as he begins pounding into you. You reach up to pull him down into a kiss, your moans mixing with his grunts.
"You are so fucking tight," he growls. "I love the way your pussy hugs my cock, as if it’s specifically made to take my cock and mine only. Desperate to be stretched by me and filled by me.”
You whimper at his dirty words for they only seemed to heighten your pleasure. He felt so good. Every inch and vein of his cock stretched you out so perfectly. Each thrust seeming to go deeper and deeper.
"That's right, make those pretty noises for me, let me hear how I make you feel."
He hooks your legs over his shoulders. This angle deeper than before.
"Fuck don't stop, Koku!" You cry.
"Trust me, I'm not planning on stopping any time soon."
Soon, all you can hear in the room is loud slapping of skin, and a series of moans and groans and you lose yourselves in the feeling of each other. Both you so wrapped in how each other felt. Not being able to get enough, not wanting separate. Your hands were on his back, nails digging as he pounded into you with such animalistic speed. His yellow eyes glowed with pleasure and love.
Even though it was your first time, it felt like you guys have been connected before. As if the feeling of him being inside you was awaking some of those lost memories.
When he hits your spot, you cry out, every thrust sending you into overdrive.
"So fucking gorgeous," he praises, "every inch of you deserves to be worshipped."
You can't help but fall apart at his words, "Koku- " you whimper,  "I'm going to cum. Mark me."
"With pleasure, my queen," with that his fangs find the skin of your neck and sink into your flesh. You cry out, the overwhelming sensation of his bite, his cock and his words is enough to send you crashing around him. Not soon after do you feel him releasing into you. You feel his hot cum filling you. "Look at how pretty you looks with my cum filling you up. You're so perfect for me, My Queen."
Feeling the adrenaline from the bite, you can feel the shift in your body as you can feel yourself beginning to change and all your memories come rushing back. You flip him over, so you're straddling him. You line him back up with your slit, before sinking back down onto him.
"'Now let me show you how much you deserve to be loved," you lean down to kiss him, biting his lip with your new fangs. You run your nails down his chest as you bounce up and down his shaft. This new position filled you up in new ways. It stretched you out even more deliciously. You looked down to see where you two were connected. Loving the sight. Then you meet his gold irises. "For you killed an entire village for me, and saved me. So now it's my turn to return the favor."
You quicken your pace, up and down. Swirling around his cock with your cunt. His moans become deeper. Your moans higher as his tip hits your spot.
"Take what you want, my Queen. I'm yours."
You can feel the pressure in your stomach building as you feel yourself clenching around him again. You slow your pace, to prolong the orgasm, wanting to make him cum first.
"Your cunt feels so good gripping me like this, you are so fucking perfect," he moans.
Sneaky bastard as he reaches in between to rub your clit, making you come undone again in instant. Feeling you tire, he starts thrusting up into you. Making you arch your back, and grip the sheets for purchase as he slowly but surely regains control. Flipping you back around so you're under him once again. Brutally slamming into you once more, this time his thrusts feel even deeper than before. The bed begins to creak underneath the constant movement.
"It's becoming too much," you cry out. But it's like he's lost all morality, as he's focused on bending and using you to his will.
"You can take it," he growls. "You'll take everything I give you," with that he sinks his fangs into you again and you cry out. Loving the mix of pain and pleasure. "Because you're mine for eternity now. So this body will become so used to my cock it won't be able to function without it."
"Koku," you sob, you cum again. immediately at the sight of your blood dripping from his fangs. The sight turning you on even more. "Give me everything you have."
His detaches his fangs from your neck. Shifts you once again, to where your stomach is pressed against the bed and your ass is forced upwards. He's slamming into you without any warning. He yanks your head up so it's pressed against his chest hammering into you over and over. You crane your neck and bring him in for another sloppy kiss.
He wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing lightly, causing your air to be cut off slightly and for your to tighten your walls around his cock even more. You loved how he was becoming more and more demonic. Not holding back a single ounce of remorse as he broke and mended you over and over.
“I’m going to cum again,” you cry.
“Do it,” he doesn’t stop his hard fast thrusts, “cum for me once more.”
“Cum with me this time,” you plead.
“God I love you,” he says.
“I love you too, Koku.“
Kokushibo lets out one last roar as you come together. He pulls out. And leaves for a moment only to come back with a wash cloth. Once he’s done, he lies down next to you, pulling you into him.
“Finally,” he says, give you a gentle kiss, “we’re officially together and nothing will ever separate us again.”
“I am eternally yours, Koku.”
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Sukuna's Wife and Yuuji's Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 1
I’m an actual big sister–the eldest. What a pain. But who can hate someone as adorable as baby Yuuji? I’d hate the world less if there were more Yuuji’s in it. 
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You were neighbors with grumpy old man Wasuke Itadori. The other children and even most adults didn’t like him, but you got along well with the guy. You liked that he didn’t talk down to you like the other grownups.
As a child, you hated children. (You hated people in general, but kids were a piece of work.) One exception was Yuuji. You met the toddler when Wasuke announced that he was now an orphan. 
Yuuji was a loud baby, but that wasn’t always a bad thing. When he cried, he let out fat globs of tears and his cheeks swelled. But it didn’t take much to make him happy. Just seeing you made him smile that toothless smile of his. 
He seemed to like you a lot. Maybe because you shared his grandpa’s personality. 
Over the years, you grew close with the Itadoris and you always walked to and from school with Yuuji.
You didn’t have any clubs or after school activities because you preferred to watch over Wasuke, who would yell at you for neglecting your social life. 
You were there to hold Yuuji’s hand when the eldest Itadori died. 
Yuuji didn’t cry and you didn’t want to force him to talk, but you became more sensitive and protective of him. 
Despite his protests, you cleaned the Itadori home, did Yuuji’s laundry (which you haven’t done since he was in grade school), restocked the pantry, and cooked his meals. 
One night, however, Yuuji didn’t walk home with you because he had a meeting for his club, but he promised he’ll come back in time for dinner so you carefully prepared his favorite meal. 
Yuuji was a good boy, the best boy, actually. He was genuinely sweet to everyone, he did his chores, and above all, he always, always informed you if something changed in his schedule because even though he was taller and stronger than you, he knew how much you worried. Even during the rare moments of disagreement between you two, he would always inform you if he couldn’t make it to an appointment. 
So when a whole hour passed without so much as a text message from him, you grabbed your bag and jumped out the door and into a cab heading straight for his high school. 
Your breathing became heavy the moment you reached the place. Something was wrong. Your bones ached. 
The air was heavy, thick with tension as you shakingly destroyed the campus gate lock with a rock. 
Yuuji was family to you. You practically raised that boy. If anything happened to him you would never forgive yourself. 
You didn’t have to search far for him though. A giant mass, some creature blocked the moon from high above and you just knew your brother was there.
You never ran so fast your whole life.
As Yuuji was being wrangled by the monster, your body moved before you could think and you ran forward.
“Yuuji!” You screamed, throwing a rock at the creature’s eye.
The thing didn’t let go of Yuuji but it was definitely paying attention to you now. 
Frozen, you watched futilely as it reached for you. 
Like a voice in the water, you heard a stranger call out to you–you didn’t even realize that someone else was here. It didn’t matter. You were going to die. You shut your eyes, silently asking Yuuji for forgiveness. 
Time stills–
Your tears pool.
But nothing comes.
You dared to open your eyes and realize that you’re not even standing anymore. You had collapsed on the ground. The monster was nowhere to be found.
Looking down at you was Yuuji, but at the same time, it wasn’t Yuuji. Sure the man in front of you was wearing his jacket and had his pink hair, but this wasn’t your brother.
“Finally,” the imposter whispered and your heart sped up with familiarity. 
“I found you.” He stretched forward his arm, trying to touch you but someone clapped and you gasped–a third party now cradled you in his arms. 
“Sorry,” the white-haired stranger holding you chuckled, but he wasn’t talking to you, he was talking to Yuuji’s imposter. “We can’t have you hurting civilians now, can we?”
There was a pause in the air.
You gulped. 
The tattooed Yuuji glared at the man holding you. “Let her go, or I’ll–”
He grabbed his cheek and when he spoke again, you could hear Yuuji, “Hey, what’s going on now? Give me back my body!”
“Y-Yuuji?” You muttered.
“Ah, nee-chan! You’re safe, thank god!”
“What’s happening?”
“That’s my question.”
Yuuji’s face turned again, and the voice of his imposter growled, “Don’t address my wife so casually, you brat.”
Another pause in the air.
You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but you would’ve laughed at everybody else if you weren’t so baffled at the declaration.
The imposter: <( ̄︶ ̄)>
Yuuji:  ( ・◇・)?
The the fair-headed stranger holding you: Σ(TωT)
The black-haired teenager you’ve never met before: ( ̄□ ̄;)
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Yuuji’s chin turned and he spoke up, “Nee-chan, I didn’t know you were married.”
Another head turned. “Don’t call her ‘nee-chan,’ and how dare you look straight into her eyes.”
“Nee-chan, have you considered getting a divorce?”
“I’m not married, Yuuji!”
Part 2
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hauntinglyhaunted · 22 days
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Creepypasta Headcanons!
(Jeffery Woods, Eyeless Jack, Toby Rogers.)
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Starting off with our crispy himself!
Jeffery Woods:
I actually believe he'd be moderately okay with self care (with the exception of showering, because he's gross 🧍)
Like, he def keeps different kinds of lotions to help hydrate his burn scars (I'm projecting ikik) and has a variety of different scents.
I actually think he doesn't have a strict preference for what kind of music he listens to, but tends to listen to heavy metal or older emo music.
Def listens to ICP. You can't change my mind.
I actually heavily headcanon him as someone that'll pick at his skin, specifically the skin on his fingers/hands. It's a bad habit that he has tried (and failed) to shake off.
Drinks monster/energy drinks like its WATER.
He's the type of guy to point at someone's concert shirt and ask them to name 3-5 songs
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Eyeless Jack:
Out of any of the pastas, I believe he'd be the best when it comes to self care-- Considering the idea of him originally wanting to be a surgeon.
Carries hand sanitizer with him EVERYWHERE.
I believe he has a habit of over washing his hands and is constantly using hand sanitizer.
He has sensitive hearing from his heightened senses, so I believe he'd keep earplugs on him 24/7
Tried to prepare organs like someone would a sandwich, he regretted that.
The type of guy that doesn't pick up on humor. You quote something online around this guy and he'll just take it as you being dead serious.
Tried to eat human food so he could feel "normal" again, but it made him sick. Still tries it every now and then, but it can result in him just curled up on the floor. Think of how some people that are lactose intolerant will still eat dairy (you know who you are 🙄)
In some med schools, it's actually preferred to know a second language (that could also just be where I live, so 🚶) and I actually believe he knows bits of Spanish.
Parts of his life before the sacrifice is actually a major blur for him, it's like looking through a fog for him.
Hates the smell of mint.
I feel like he mainly uses echolocation. Or if he could "see" anything, it would probably be like seeing the temperature of something
Example:
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Bro constantly cold. It could be the middle of July and he'd probably be LAYERED up. Long sleeves, hoodies, etc.
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Toby Rodgers:
Chews. His fingers, the scar on his cheek, dead skin on his lips, he just chews.
Unironically wears socks and sandals
Due to high levels of stress, I like to think he'd have white steaks/patches in his hair. :]
Tried to give himself a piercing once, it didn't work out. It scarred.
Either Midwest emo or grunge, you can't change my mind!
Has listened to the front bottoms (father...) and the mountain goats.
Listens to Nirvana sometimes. 👏
Due to his trauma, he prefers to not drive or ride in the passenger seat. He either forces himself to sleep or zones out SOOOO hard.
Since he can't go get his hair cut professionally for obvious reasons, some of his hair is uneven since he doesn't know how to cut it properly.
Toby doesn't like sweetened coffee, he either drinks it black or eats instant coffee because "it works faster"
He regretted this.
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Got my first ACTUAL post down! Hope you guys like it! Tried to keep it lighthearted since it's a starter. I take requests btw. :]
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noisycroissant · 7 months
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I Will Find You
Astarion x Reader (Soulmate AU)
Based on that aquarium scene from Romeo + Juliet (1996)
*******
She hated the costume. It was a sick twisted joke on her Mistress' part to make her wear this to the damned ball at the Szarr Palace.
A vampire ball on Hallow's Eve. How tasteless.
An ankle length white gown, plain and unadorned except for trimmings of lace at the hem and scooped out neckline. Of course her mistress would never let any of the spawn wear high-necked outfits or wear necklaces when they were taken out to mingle in high vampire society. The bite marks must be visible to everyone. The ownership must be acknowledged.
It was the wings that sealed the pantomime of it all. Stiff lacquered wings, covered in soft goose feathers, tied on to her shoulders with string. With the pale skin, she could pass easily for an angel should anyone see her flitting about in the darkness.
But one flash of her smile or a second look at her eyes and they would know that she was just another monster in sheep's clothing.
*******
Over the decades, Cazador had done several tasteless things to seal his status as the patriarch of the Szarr clan. From using his spawn as "entertainment" to holding lavish balls were his spawn waited hand and foot on drunken patriars of Baldur's Gate, there was no level Cazador would not stoop to to ascertain power.
But this? This took the cake.
A high vampire society ball on Hallow's Eve. Complete with costumes and candles and music.
Pathetic.
The armour and chainmail looked heavy but was actually just made of paste and cleverly dyed. As one of the prized spawn in the palace, it was imperative that he "mingled with anyone who looks important, if he knew what was good for him".
The threats didn't register anymore. After all, how different could this night's ending be from all the other times there was a ball in this wretched place? Some drunk and out-of-it duke or duchess would fancy him, he'd have to sweet talk and charm them into a chamber, do what was expected, make the necessary sounds and words, and it would be over.
And another piece would be added to the mosaic of power Cazador was building.
The hatred made bile rise in Astarion's throat and he retched into a nearby vase. It was better his stomach remain empty for what was inevitably to come.
******
It was not as bad as she'd imagined. There was a certain flair and theatre to seeing vampires of all classes costumed and swanning about.
Like they were normal people at a Hallow's Eve party.
Her mistress had let her "loose" for the night. Which meant she could walk around with the rare gift of turning down propositions. A small mercy, but after a century of servitude, she would take what she could get.
She walked along the edges of the great hall, trying to stay out of sight and in the shadows, trying to avoid anyone's eye. Just one night to herself. That's all she wanted after a century of turning.
******
Astarion saw the person with wings in a plain white gown seeking the edges of the room from the moment the Eastern Vampire Court's Mistress and her brood had arrived.
He'd been following her, unnoticed, since. He didn't know why but he had to see her face. It wasn't mere curiosity. It was an unexplainable pull he couldn't fight.
He followed and followed and finally had her alone in his sight. She was watching the ornamental fish in the aquarium near the archway to the garden. Her pale fingers following the path of a bejeweled looking fish. He moved to the other side of the glass and slowly walked into the faint light emitting from the aquarium.
Her smile was the first thing he saw on her face. The warmth, the soft creases at the ends of a generous mouth. The way her cheeks rose to her eyes.
His eyes were what she saw first. A warm burgundy, like aged wine, surrounded by soft lashes and sharp cheekbones. The curiosity pooling in those eyes as they took her in.
Astarion didn't believe in gods anymore. He didn't believe in love anymore. He didn't believe in fate anymore either.
But for one moment, he believed the goddess Sune had touched his heart.
The angel smiled at him and he knew. He'd heard of fated mates but he'd never dreamed he'd find his while living a life shackled to Cazador. But now he knew.
That fate spins along as it should. No point in fighting or denying it.
******
The spell was broken as another spawn of her brood appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "You must come immediately. The mistress requires you," says the spawn as he grabs her elbow and pulls her towards the dance floor.
Astarion did not think twice before dashing after her. He deftly moved between people, watching as she was pulled away further and further into the crowd.
Their eyes never left each other.
The curiosity and subtle longing in her eyes was enough for Astarion to know that she had felt what he'd felt too.
That damned, inescapable pull.
He'd found the one thing that was going to be his, and come hell or rapture, he was going to claim it.
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