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#it feels a lot more dry and forced
theteapotofdoom · 1 year
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I think that if you watch The Mummy 2 on its own, it’s a fine little flick with flaws but a lot of charms. But if you The Mummy 2 right after watching the first one, it becomes the absolute worst movie you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
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getodrools · 27 days
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jjk men having wet dreams about you and waking up needy and pants soaked…….. thank you for listening to my ted talk 🌚🌚
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໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ yes and yes. omfggg the big men of jjk being so whiney and needy >> such a good combooo
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★ ┆ NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS .ᐟ ── JJK VARIOUS ‧
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FT ‧ gojo, getō, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso
⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con, somnophilia, dry humping, lots of messes ( winkwonk ) from vv needy men, dirty taaalk, warnings will be noted and will vary on each character. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.4k + |
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͙͘͡★ SATORU GOJO!
somno, dry humping, fingering, mind fuck ( ?? ) !
Gojo’s eyes are snapped wide. Simply, laying silent and annoyed – tight-lipped and motionless, yet his wet cock is the only thing moving… agonizingly too… Feeling himself twinge between stiff legs ‘till it itched; each panging throb forced his meaty log to rub right up against the mess oozing through thin fabric.
“Fuck…” Gojo was more than annoyed watching how you peacefully drift off beside him, unbothered and probably coveting in the sweetest of dreams… A silent ponder hoping some were of him, just how his every thought was of you. Well, Clearly. The sappy mess globbed up in his pants was an apparent sign even his dreams clutter of just you, to which, Gojo could no longer stay silent about…
“Dreamin' baby?… Bet you are…” Shimmying himself close, the gentle press he rolls with smeared the gluey muck across your bare skin, “Any about me?… I’d hope,” Voice so smooth you swear you could hear your boyfriend echoing in your cute little head, “Just had one of you… i was fucking that pretty pussy…” Like sand falling, he whispers gently at the shell of your ear, taking a nip before, “Mmh… just like this…” Gojo’s hand slips right between the sweet heat of your legs.
“Ah… mmpf–” You twitch. Your brows too, knitting together into a deep parabola. Was this a dream still? A sudden naughty turn from baking with friends sure was a jump! — Ah! But that pinch twisting at your pearled hood felt all too real…
Gojo worked quick. Cooing across naked flesh soothed you back – even soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his persistence worked well too, “You were wet just like this baby…” The pads of his fingers mush between your slit, gently scrissoring folds open to catch at those lewd webs, “Better be dreaming of me fucking you… so fuckin’ wet…” Gojo hooks a digit in.
“… To… Toru…?” Bedhead sluggish with sleepy eyes drooped, all you could feel was Gojo pressing flush against your ass harder than usual — was there a wet spot too? Each roll he shoved against you worsened the damp spot; all seeping with warm cum and more pre to bleed through your clothes… And was there a damn finger popped in your pussy?!
“Hehe…” That mischievous and annoying giggle hucked right into your neck, “Look who's having a wet dream now, naughty girl…” Needy bastard.
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͙͘͡★ SUGURU GETŌ!
somno, oral sex ( f –> m ), cum shot !
The rather poignant moans slipping out from between Getō's lips woke you up. And the obvious tent building in your boyfriend's briefs was standing proudly from strong hips; an obelisk of flesh that jutted out as far as a forearm was a clear indication he was hungry even in deep thoughts...
Bored and damper with a small smile, you listen to how this eruption was caused by you, "Y/n... baby... More..." Tenderly cuddling up to his side to watch his ache – to watch the little twinges in his features spark... Suguru was so cute when he'd have naughty fantasies... Watching how his length jerked around in confines; forcing tight cloth wrapping his capped tip to suffocate. To further damp in wet seed, 'till the dark spot bubbled out with more ropes of cum.
"Fuck–mmh–Please... Need you... fuck..."
Your measly hand dipping between bodies seemed to have drawn out those very feeble dreams he was crying out for to beyond... Especially the second you popped his cock out; he was drenched – sweat and cum were glistening along his length.
Suguru twisted around, unconsciously sucking in his lower lip at the tease, "Yes... mmh..." Clammy skin throbbed under your touch... The wrist-thick girth you twist at oozed, just begging for attention.
Heeding to his needs, you squeeze yourself between his splayed legs; settling to wrap pretty lips around Suguru's crown. And like a suction, you swallow him up; impaling yourself with his slab of cock meat 'till it punched at the fluttering length of your barriers. Blocking the entirety of your windpipe with ease, but too determined to fill his dreams with more fantasies, you gurgle him whole…
Perhaps the sloppy sounds coming from your mouth did little to dissuade him awake, but the tight lip you ring around his midsection forced his face to scrunch in, "Ohmyfuck... baby, yes..." He was close — again!
Salty in white thickness, the slobber you bubble out forced another geyser of hot cum to shoot.
Balls tightening and clenching up to empty across your tongue, Getō gasps, "Baby?! Fuck!" Hips jerking upwards, either surprised to see his pretty girl working his hard cock, or the overstimulation catching him by his throat.
Either or, he was damn grateful to have such an attentive girlfriend, "Holy shit... Babe--" Getō stutters, but the faint smile hanging by a thread was all he could muster up peering down at your muck-covered, pretty face...
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͙͘͡★ KENTO NANAMI!
marriage, mentions of pregnancy, cock warming !
Sensitive skin chafing along his briefs, the sap pearling out was sticky. Damnnit. Again?
It's happened three times this week on your honeymoon already, and it's becoming agonizing… He always tried to ignore the way he'd moan and twist himself awake, but it was extra hard dismissing the wet patch soiling his third pair of briefs… It made him feel like a hormonal teen – embarrassing for a grown, now wedded man, but he couldn't help it! You're so beautiful and everything he yearns for – you're just cooped up in his every damn thought!
“Honey…” Nanami sighs.
The soft pads gliding across the curvature of your back form a parabola to arch in chills. You wind your hips, “Mhm?… Oh…” You recognize that sticky patch soiled low in his pants. Memorizing the way how he'd shimmy so close ‘till he could stuff his face into the nook of your neck before humming.
“Mrs. Nanami… My lovely wife…” Gentle voice feathering across the shell of your ear, Kento was gentle, besides the small pinch at your side to make you giggle, “Want to have a lazy morning?”
⊹ ࣪ ˖
“Then you found out you were pregnant.” As those words cooed out, his cock throbs deep inside gummy walls, and your heart does too, “Those are your wet dreams?” You giggle into the pillow, but the soft hump rolling against doughy globes robs that very breath.
“Mhm… Well, I think so? I fucked you full, so I assumed you'd be round and full with my kids…” The tender thrust bucking up into you signifies what he's been craving these past few nights – inner thoughts swirling with the idea of you being packed like a snow cone!
“Oh…” You gulp as Nanami pulls you closer by the hips, nudging in ‘till he was balls deep. It was like putting his dick to sleep in a pillow.
Sinking in every thick, turgid inch of cock meat into spongy walls that snap and suck him in, you could feel your husband worm right up to your womb. Thumping to invade soft barriers – he was stuffing you to the hilt purposely, as if he was trying to fuck the same thought into you…
Nanami hums, “What? Don't you want some one day? Or do you just like being stuffed?” Either or…
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͙͘͡★ TOJI FUSHIGURO!
somno, cunnilingus, squirting, he's grouchy!
“Make me a mess…” Toji is irritated, this is a damn work night and he's woken up with drawls sticking to the fat of his thighs, again. Breaking those sweet sweet eight hours of sleep – if any, all of it was swept away with filthy thoughts of you…
Grumbling between the sweet heat of your legs, “I’ll make you a mess.” The assassin speared a wet muscle up and between your folds; flicking at your hood ‘till it puffed out… “Let’s see how you like it…” With a forceful shove, his lips mashed into those soft pillows.
Your head mashed into pillows yourself, unaware of the man feasting below your waist. Only aware— barely aware of those flitted blissful dreams…Which now, all warp into filthy scenes of sweating bodies humping and rolling together… His tongue was working as one of a spring bouncing into place; romping in and out so deep, he was fucking with your imagination...
His mouth suckled over the fine features of you lewdly, nestling the fat into the crook of his nose to ground his lips into lush flesh further. Smooshing folds down to nip at, Toji smirks, watching you swerve in sheets just how he was.
“Oh!— Fuck?!” Your eyes snap back wide, were you cumming? Peering down, “Toji?!” And gasping with wailing hands reaching for the shaggy strands sticking out beneath sheets, you were on the brink.
Still leaden, your were too late to pop off that suction forcing you to topple over... The unexpected clench twisting inside you made your eyes bug out. A sudden breathlessness rose to your throat – all the air in your body was forced out in one huge rush, just like the geyser spewing out from between your legs.
Pussy leaking, the man hiding under sheets peeked up, “Annoying huh?” Shaken and mottled with chills, no. Not… really? Though, the sheets and the entirety of his mouth were soaked, so were a couple of clothes, that was the only peeving thing about this… but it is laundry day anyway…
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͙͘͡★ RYŌMEN SUKUNA!
cum eating, blow job-ish, he's also vv grouchy !
"Wake up." One of his strong arms sling over your shoulder, "Brat. Wake up." And it twists at the skin trying to nuzzle under the blankets.. Sukuna sighs, heavily, "You have a mess to clean up. Wake up right now." The rough nudge at your body was more than enough to wake you...
Humming, you whirl around only to get a crotch-level shot of your husband! Blinking, he clearly scooted his damn butt all the way up to the headboard, making sure you'd see the very mess he was complaining about soon as you roused. —And the still pounding cock that jutted in embarrassing need. That thick, meaty pole standing rock hard shaded into a deep red, the cum-soaked skin so flushed, he couldn't stop twitching... oh he was aching...
"Clean me." Sukuna waves a hand around. Subtly pointing at the gooey puddle pooling at his tummy, and it was a lot. Thick too, cooling ropes of midst cum stuck to his barred skin like a busted open bottle of glue.
"Sukuna... It looks like you made this mess—”
"No. You did. You keep sticking yourself in my head. It's annoying waking up like this." . . .
Sighing, "It's O.K to say you were dreamin' of me, again..." He hisses at that remark, but your cooling tongue flicking out simmered his temper...
Nectarous lotion and salt lathered over your lips as your hand dragged a long, languid tease across his shaft, "You're so moody when you're needy." Sukuna went to bite at those words, but feeling you vacuum up the globs of cum forced him to gnaw at his lip instead.
Sukuna's cum strung in your mouth as if you were flossing with it; running thickly down your throat, you slurp his tatted tummy clean. The thick blobs felt like gum rolling around in your mouth, trying to drink him up 'till the only slime trailing and glistening across skin was your messy spit.
"Good girl... Don't forget my cock now.." Milking the rest of his hot load with tight lips, you gurgle down his seed like a smoothie.
Suckling at the King's crown, Sukuna eventually deemed himself clean once you finally kitten-licked all the way down to his fist-sized baby makers... Sparkling new!
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͙͘͡★ CHOSO KAMO!
he's a mess, dry humping, he whimpers ofc !
Twisting and turning, Choso was shamelessly humping at the sheets, again. It was almost the AM, but those sweaty limbs linking with yours kept forcing you awake...
"Choso..." You whine, but no louder than the one wafting straight into your back. Choso nestled beneath the covers and sunk himself further down the bed than usual; cramming himself against your spine to hump at the plush of your thighs 'till another bubble of cum oozed out his rubbery tip.
This was the third load he's cried out, so far! It's like a never-ending dream of fucking you raw when your around... He just couldn't stop thinking of you no matter how hard he tried! Even the agonizing nights when he slept on the couch, he'd fuck himself straight into the pillows – hearing whines of your name echoing from down the hall kept you up those times!
Choso's hips keep rutting like a damn dogs, feet kept kicking, and cock still throbbing knowing you were around, no matter what...
The longer he rolled his hips into yours, Choso's mess went tacky. It began to string out in fine lines through the sheer gaps in his confines; almost frothing like icing the longer he kept at it, unknowingly soaking your lower half too.
You couldn't stay sore with him, especially when his droopy eyes fluttered open. He looks so embarrassed out of his mind as he looks up at you like a bad puppy, realizing the mess he's created, he feels like an animal... Shame.
Whines turning into frantic rambles, "I'm sorry... l don't know what get a hold of me... Please..." And the soft whimpers following each syllable soften your gaze.
You peck at his swollen lips. Still too sensitive, Choso winces, and his hips jolt forward.
The wet center of his crotch nudges with yours; poking the hard blanketed tip right between the sweet heat of your legs. All you could feel was runny sap dampening your shorts, almost cooling as it soaked through to your panties, even feeling the moisture cling against your bundle of nerves.
"It's ok baby... I love you too." Nuzzling your nose into his, Choso was on the brink of groping cloud nine, again...
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<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: JJK MASTERLIST –>
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ridingthatd · 3 months
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𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔
sukuna, nanami, choso, gojo, geto, toji, higuruma, itadori, yuta, megumi...
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disgusting was always a word that was used once people find out about your loyal 10 dogs that you own. more like sex slaves? they looked more like dogs drooling at your feets, begging to have a taste of your pussy.
+18, nsfw, heavy smut, this shit is really kinky, pet play, sex slave, cumdump, a lot of begging, pussy drunk, sex drunk, sex toys (vibrators, plugs, pumpers, chasity belt is a locking item of clothing that goes around the groin region, used to prevent sex/masturbation.), simulation, squirting, rough sex, switching from sub to dom, there's a lot more so be warned.
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you never thought you would be in such a situation. you never thought ten man would be under your feets. you never thought once you joined the most exclusive BDSM club in your city, you would meet ten man who are willing to share you with each other. who are willing to go this far just to get a taste of you. ten successful dangerous man acting like a dog in heat.
their fat cock leaking. puffy, sensitive, red clit. drops of warm cum dropping down their cock, sliding down the twitching veins that surrounded their throbbing cock. eyes crossed, flushed face, jaw hanged open as spit coat their red lips. fuming at the mouth like a dog in need of a pussy to fill. a crave for their cock to be teased, touched by you.
this is the type of man they were in private. this is the type of man they were with you. they needed to please you. to make you squirt, piss, coat them with your juice. they want every inch of their body to be covered with your wetness. they would beg for you to oil them up with the wetness of your pussy.
they wanna taste it, drink it, eat it. lap on every drop. smudge their face against your pussy. purring like a cat against your wet cunt. it's like a napkin for them, an obsession that they can't even control. that their own body can't deny. stumbling on their words as they plead to sleep with their face on your bare pussy. pleading to have their cock in. pleading to have their fat cock always enveloped by your tight pussy.
stumbling on their "yes! yes!" as you squirt your warm pee while they pound their fat cock inside of you. eyes rolling back their skull, grinning from to ear as they tremble at the feeling of having your boiling squirt coating their cock. dripping down their cock into the bed sheets, into the floor.
soon after you feel their cock swollen up, twitching against your womb before hot cum starts shooting out of the tip. they wouldn't stop sliding your poor pussy against them till you milk the last drop. till their seeds start gushing out everywhere from the force.
but they won't forget about your wetness, your juice. they wouldn't let it go to waste. bending down the floor just to peak their wet tongue out. maintaining eye contact with you while they lick your squirt, your piss out of the floor. groaning and moaning at the taste of you, showing you how much they enjoy it.
not forgetting the bed sheets that was coated with your juice. they would suck on the fabric. sucking every drop of your wetness that was left, milking it dry. they would give you the same treatment, making you their own personal cumdump.
filling your tight pussy to the max. filling each hole of yours. they want their cum to leak out of your nose, they want their cum to fill your brain. their seeds would start gushing out of your pussy sloppily. dripping from your cunt till it reachs your plumpy ass that was also filled with warm cum.
they mean it when they say they want every inch of your body coated with their seeds. shooting their cum on your arms. face. stomach. thighs. turning you into a painting. your abused pussy would be barely recognized after. gapping open, clenching as it leaks out of their seeds. so swollen up that your clit would be proudly peaking out.
before going to work. always filling you up. it's like it's their own "good morning kiss" for you. you are still asleep but that doesn't stop them from having two cocks inside your pussy. two cocks inside your ass. two cocks inside your mouth. two cocks in one hand. two cocks in the other hand. and two cocks fucking your tits. when they are done they won't forget to put in a little pink plug so you will not feel empty without their seed.
not wearing any panties in the house was a strict rule. when they come back and sees you cooking they wouldn't think twice before quickly taking out the plug and replaces it with their cock to fill you up again. greating them in the entrance on knees. ass up. pussy spread like a good little cumdump you are.
each of them enjoyed different kinks. each of them had their own favourite filthiness.
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎, 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈, 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
being tied up with a red silk rope. from their suckable huge tits to their huge fat cock that was twitching against their abdomen. the rope was squeezing their cocks tight. preventing their sensitive cocks from spilling their seeds.
but choso didn't seem to have a problem with that. being the horny dog he is- the robben didn't stop his cock from leaking drops of cum, from shooting them each time you squeezed the robben around his cock harder, tighter.
because he enjoyed it. you knew it from the way his eyes cross even more every time you squeeze the red rope harder, enveloping his cock till it's flushed red. all it takes just a touch from your nail on his red clit for warm liquid to explode.
while the two brothers were quite the opposite. their huge nipples being simulated by the pumpers you placed. suckling hard on their sensitive nipples. but they couldn't cum- the robben stopping them from cumming just from having their tits simulated.
while yuta begs you to stop squeezing the robben tighter on his cock. beg you to stop forcing every last drop of his seeds out of him. the twins, itadori and choso beg you to let them cock. beg you to let them free their seeds out.
but you wouldn't. you would go as far as place a mini string inside their clit. yuta would lose it as he spills his cum even with it on, his seeds pushing against the string and gushing out hard, shooting in the air causing the string to fly out from the force.
while the twins don't spill from their cock- instead milk start gushing out their nipples...
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
at first it was only toji. you were only fucking with toji. he was one the man you met at the bdsm club. but his son had to have his taste once he got a glimpse of you. and of course toji had to teach his son how to please a woman.
but once megumi got a taste he never was able to stop. he as drunk of it. it was his new addiction. something that he couldn't get enough of, something that he needed all the time.
here he was between your legs, slurping and lapping your clit. eyes closed as he whine and groan savoring the taste. but it wouldn't be enough. it was never enough for him. and toji of course knew that about his son- he knew that his son craved what he craved and more.
shoving a tube up your pussy was the solution, megumi eyes widen as he can see the inside of your pussy clearly now. he immediately warp his lips around the tube and suck on it like a straw, he whimper once he feels your liquid gushing out and hitting his tongue. more and more starts coming out.
he couldn't help the way he started humping his hips against the sheets of the bed. all while toji shoves his cock deep inside your throat. the tip of his fat cock hitting the back of your throat not giving you any time to breath as he sloppily keeps sliding in.
toji would spit inside your mouth, he would do it every second just to mix it with your spit that coated his cock...
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈, 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀
they loved to your their huge hands on your pussy. they loved to feel every inch of you with their hands. they loved to shove it up your ass, up your throat up your wet cunt.
using everything on your poor body, stuffing everyhole you have with their tongue and fat cocks. they would make sure to tear through your pussy with not one but both of their fat cocks, squeezing them together and shoving them into your tight pussy.
while one of the four hands, you can't tell whos hand is who. tied up and spread wide open with a blindfold on as one their hands make its way toward your ass. they would at first add two fingers, then four and four would turn into his whole fist going in and out your little ass. the wetness that your pussy is gushing would coat your ass, causing sloppy wet noises to fill the air...
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀, 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
dog collars on. on their hands and knees. rubbing their faces against your legs. purring as your run your hands against their hair. who knew a huge man like them would be so pathetic, so desperate acting like little puppies.
giving your attention to sukuna who was whining as he humps your leg more aggressively than gojo and geto. giving you a sign that he needs more. that he was a greedy little slut.
you harshly use the tip of your heels to poke the tip of his cock. causing sukuna to growl, pushing against you harder. needing more, and you do exactly what he wanted. you put your full body weight on his fat cock as tears start slipping past his eyes from the feeling.
crying ashamed as he feels the warmess of his cock leaking through his boxers into your heels. you force them to cum in their boxers, purposely grinding your heels against their hard on as they beg you to slip your hand inside- they want to feel your warm hands on their leaking fat cock, sloppily stroking it but instead you tell them you won't touch their cock unless they squirt their warm seeds, filling their underwear with hot cum.
and that's exactly what they do, it only took you a couple of strokes through the fabric while you suck on their tongue to get them cumming hard in their boxer. the lay down trembling, while they watch you stripping their underwear away. taking it in your hand just for your tongue to peak out and nastly lick the cum that's on the boxer. they groan watching you.
but you don't stop there, you take the boxer and place it on your dripping pussy. grinding the cum filled fabric against your pussy, coating it with their seeds. you start humping their underwear, eyes rolling behind your skull at the feeling of the rough fabric against your clit and the warmess of their cum grinding against your pussy...
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loveindefinitely · 2 months
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༊*·˚ LIKE THE WAY I FUCK ('CAUSE I GET ROUGH) — an undercover mission with your superiors leads to compromised positions (in more ways than one)
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featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + könig
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, canon-divergence, age difference, slight power imbalance, jealous/possessive behaviour, discussions of violence, tags to be added
// NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT //
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Turns out, undercover missions involve a lot more make-up, perfume and dresses than you'd anticipated.
Being a seasoned task force operator, it's been months, if not years since you've been to a party outside of your barracks. Let alone one of this calibre; CEOs, billionaires on Forbes Top 50, politicians.
It's off-putting. 
All of it; it's stressful, and it feels as though your skin's crawling, having so much skin on display, so many eyes on you at once. You feel as though you’re an animal at a zoo, being inspected by families with their snotty-nosed kids.
"Sit-rep, Diamond?"
Swallowing around a dry mouth, you reply to your lieutenant's request through your earpiece, tone low and careful. "All as planned, Lt."
Ghost hums a low sound in reply, and your shoulders loosen slightly from their tense position.
You knew that your superior was already inside, having arrived ten minutes earlier. A small, selfish part of you wished that you'd have arrived with him, if only to see how he cleaned up.
Ghost? In a suit? It's like one of your deepest, most dirty of desires come to life.
Such thoughts that you'd never let leave your lips -- thoughts too likely to wreck your entire career and any opportunity to keep your relationship with the man.
"König?" Is Ghost's next question, although it's just the other man's name alone.
Right.
König.
The other superior featured in your dreams. Thoughts. Wank-material?
Whatever they are, they're becoming all too common, all too realistic, and all too risky.
"Successful entry," König replies, heavily accented voice low and quiet -- he's amongst people.
Your limo comes to a stop outside of the decorated museum, and a suited man opens your door with gloved hands. His upper lip is covered in a well-groomed pencil moustache, and you have to stifle a chuckle. Soap would’ve appreciated it.
With a small smile, you incline your head towards him, lifting up the fabric of your skirt so it doesn't brush against the gravel. It’s so… impractical, and you really can’t help but respect those that dress up like this on a regular basis. Looking down at your outfit, you let out a low breath.
When Gaz and Soap had burst into your room with shit-eating grins and a garment bag, you had just known that your dress was going to be... extravagant at best, and downright sinful at worst.
You were correct, of course.
So, here you are, walking down the red carpet into the building, cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, in this... dress.
Silky black, strapless, and with crossing lines of fabric across your bare back. Chiffon skirts fall behind you, with a slit rising all the way up to where your thigh meets your hip bone. A gun hides beneath, strapped around your inner thigh, paired with your right, adorning a delicate yet hefty knife.
You look... not at all like a Sergeant on Task Force 141.
You look like a celebrity, one just out of her fans' reach. It's a surreal experience, and the mere thought of your two superiors (crushes) seeing you like this... It's frightening. Maddening. And, maybe, a tad bit exhilarating.
Gaz had insisted on doing your make-up -- having so many sisters made him a fully-fledged artist, apparently. And an artist he was, talented with the brushes of eyeshadow and flicks of eyeliner against your skin.
Soap, for his part, had begged for you to let him do your hair -- but considering his only experience was his mohawk, you were less than lenient. With a huff, he’d let you go to Laswell’s wife with the request, as long as he picked out your jewellery.
And now, hours later, your heels click against the stone tile as you enter the museum.
Soft lighting cascades all of the guests in gentle hues of yellow, laughter and polite mingling surrounding you as you enter the main ballroom, skirts brushing against your legs.
Chandeliers above glisten, a live-band plays beautiful jazz, and servers walk around with trays of champagne and finger foods.
It's nothing like you've ever experienced.
This mission, somehow, terrifies you more than the weight of a sniper in your hand and an order to neutralise.
"Target, six o'clock," Ghost's voice carries through your comms as you take position near the corner of the room. There’s fewer people here, and it allows you a moment to breathe and recalibrate.
Your eyes dart to the direction your lieutenant has supplied, and you catch sight of your target immediately. "Got eyes," you murmur softly, smile on your face as you pretend to fix your hair.
"Affirmative," König answers then.
"I haven't seen you before."
Whipping around to the source of the words, you find yourself face to face with a man who you've seen the face of too many times to count.
"Apologies for startling you," he inclines his head respectfully. He's got a few inches on you -- although you find it hard to consider him tall when you're with your superiors more often than not. His skin is closely-shaved, his blonde hair gelled to the nines -- and a smarmy, trust-fund baby smirk to top it all off.
Extending his hand, he announces, "I'm Phillip. Phillip Graves."
...Graves.
The last name of your target -- the son of your target.
"I'm Louise," you say with a sweet smile, taking his hand and shaking it. Your undercover name was going to have to come into play sooner than you'd hoped. "It's a lovely atmosphere, isn't it?"
"Positive, Diamond?" Ghost's deep voice instantly responds to your subtle codeword.
"Not as lovely as you, I'm sure," Phillip flirts, and you pretend to bat your lashes and hide your face from him.
"Ah... thank you, Sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you meekly reply, giving him a soft smile. 
Men like this were so easily played, you found. Not at all like the military men you were surrounded with on such a constant basis. Not at all like…
You can hear both König and Ghost swear underneath their breaths. Releasing the hold on your bracelet -- the one with the built-in comms button -- you shyly bite at your lower lip.
Phillip’s eyes track the movement, and if not for the stakes of this mission, it'd be almost comical.
"May I have this dance?" He asks, offering his arm for you to take. He’s adorning an obviously wealthy suit, dark blue and silky – and it rubs you in all the wrong ways.
You can hear your heart pound in your ears -- this wasn't the way the mission was supposed to go. But, then again, you didn't get into Task Force 141 by expecting every mission to go as planned.
"I would love to, Sir," you smile, wrapping your hand around his arm, allowing him to escort you to the main dance floor.
Subtly folding your hands together around his arm, you're able to push down the button on your bracelet. "You want us to dance in the middle of everyone? I'm not the best of dance partners..."
Phillip chuckles, but through your inner ear piece, you can hear König report, "Got eyes, Diamant."
Chills run down your spine. Either from this situation or…
Or something else that you're not entirely supposed to -- or allowed to -- feel. Not for those two men, and certainly not for your superiors.
"I'll lead you, darlin’," Phillip leans down to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. They’re thin, and chapped against your own skin.
His hand moves to sit at your lower back, just above your ass, and the other moves down your arm to interlace your fingers with his. It's an intimate position, your front pressing against his as he starts to lead you with the beat.
Of course you knew how to dance; you wouldn't have been picked for this role if you couldn't. 
However, you deliberately misstep a few times, just to play into Phillip’s ego -- his desire for control and intelligence. 
"For such a beautiful girl, you sure aren't the smartest," he jests, and it takes everything within you not to just swing your fist and leave him twitching on the dance floor. You could, realistically speaking, but that would cost you all the mission. And you would not let yourself, nor König or Ghost, down.
Instead, you nervously flit your gaze from him, moving in closer to his chest. By his squeeze on your lower back, you know it's the right decision. "I... I'm doing my best, Sir."
You want to crawl out of your own skin at the way you’re feeding into his misogyny, how you’re downplaying your own strengths.
He huffs, a demeaning, cruel thing.
"I want to shoot 'im," you hear Ghost mutter, and you'd be a liar to say that those words in that tone don't make you clench your thighs together as you sway against Phillip.
"Make it a competition, ja?" König quips. There's... irritation -- anger, maybe -- behind his question. It's so unlike the gentle giant of a man, and that fact alone has your breath coming out in a short pant.
Phillip, of course, thinks it's him making you so flushed.
With a vindictive smirk, he spins you, completely throwing you off balance. Maybe a tad too dramatically, you find yourself falling into his arms, giggling a little bit.
...It's worth it to hear Ghost grumble under his breath through the comms.
This whole situation doesn't feel quite real, and you know that their attitudes are nearly definitely due to the stray in plans. That's fine. That's all it can possibly be. It’s all that you’ll allow it to be.
But your mind has never been kind, and your imagination has always had the habit of wandering.
"Let's go get some drinks, hm?" Phillip asks, his hand falling dangerously close to 'inappropriate hand placement' territory.
You shoot him a seductive smile, nodding as he pulls you to the open bar, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, leaving you glued to his side. It’s a possessive position, and you find yourself wishing it was either of your superiors holding you in such a way instead.
"Don't drink anything he offers you," Ghost warns. You almost have the mind to chew him out for not trusting you with something so obvious, but... There's something about such subtle 
protectiveness that only feeds your elementary style crush on the man.
"I would love to," you reply as Graves leads you to the bar, hand only moving lower with every step the two of you take. Fear trickles down your spine, your hands squeezing tightly together at your front.
"Say the word and we get you outta' there, Princess," Ghost quips, sharp and to the point.
With your hands already together, you manage to reply an agreement in Morse code -- quick, successive taps of the communications button.
"Good girl," König replies, just a touch breathy from the quietness of his words.
You manage not to trip on your feet, but it's a close thing.
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a small snippet, because i feel really bad for my lack of posts!! life is so insane atm its like a satire.
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claire-starsword · 1 year
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froggibus · 7 months
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Not Done Yet - Wriothesley
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Pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader (reader has a pussy + uses fem pronouns)
Genre: smut/NSFW
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: your boyfriend will do anything to keep you from moving to the Overworld
CW: dubcon, breeding, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, fingering, wall sex, dry humping, doggystyle, mating press, lots of dirty talk, praise + degradation, use of ‘good girl’, dom! Wriothesley, semi feral wriothesley , possessiveness, arguing
hello welcome to this episode of kinktober where the Wriothesley brainrot continues. the minute I met this man in game it was just absolutely over for me and I had SO many thoughts of him and ugh. hope you guys like it <3
Kinktober Masterlist
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“You want to do what?”
It’s hard not to cower under your boyfriend’s gaze when his eyes have become so chilly. His voice has taken on an angry edge, a ball of electricity forming in your tummy. 
You swallow hard and point your chin. “I want to move.” 
He raises an eyebrow at you, taking a step closer. It’s times like these that you realize how much bigger he is than you, how much more powerful he is than you. The air takes on a bitter cold. 
“Away from here, I mean,” you add, turning your gaze to the dangling chandelier of his office and the warm light it emits. 
“To the Overworld. You want to move to the Overworld and abandon the life you have here.” His voice booms, “you have a home here, y/n. You have me here. And you want to throw it all away so you can work like a dog until the day you die?”
You scoff. “So I can have a real life, Wriothesley. A chance at some normalcy. To get a normal job and have normal food and—and have a family.”
He looks taken aback at your final sentence. The gears in his head turn, slowly processing this. You’ve never talked about having kids before, not with him. Sure, you’re not always the most careful about using protection, but he never thought that would be something that you want. 
He steps forward again, backing you up only inches from the wall. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, “you’re not leaving me. You can’t.” 
You shiver, though you’re not sure if it’s from the cold air or from the dark look in his eyes. You stare at him defiantly, though every instinct tells you to look away from him. 
You can see your breath when you speak. “I can and I will.”
Wrong answer. 
In an instant, he has you pinned against the wall, one hand with a bruising grip on your hip, the other snaking around your throat. 
His eyes darken as he smashes his lips against yours. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, the sudden pain making you gasp. He slips his tongue between your lips and you suck instinctually. 
He slides his hand down from your hip and under your thigh, lifting it up to his side. He thrusts you against the wall, groaning into your mouth. You whine against him, raising your leg higher to give the growing bulge in his pants easier access to your aching core. 
“Why would you ever wanna leave this, hm?”
His words snap you out of your trance, your hands trailing up to his chest to shove him off of you. Heat surges through your body, your head spinning as if the world is rocking beneath you. 
You take a deep breath and gather your bearings. “We’re not done arguing, Wriothesley.”
“I am,” he pushes you against the wall, using his size to his advantage. He presses himself against your back so that you can feel every twitch of his muscles, every rise and fall of his chest. 
His hands go to your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. He grinds himself against you, hard bulge nestling between your legs. 
He digs his teeth into your neck, sharp canines grazing the sensitive skin. He gives a rough, playful thrust, and a moan slips out between your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment taking over. 
He gently sucks at the spot he just bit. “That’s what I thought,” he says in that familiar, commanding voice—the one he uses to break up prison riots, or convince you to let him chain you to the bed. 
He slips a hand between your legs to cup your throbbing core, feeling the heat overflowing from your pussy. Another whine slips out, your knees shaking in anticipation, threatening to give out. 
He tightens his grip on your hip to hold you still, his other hand furiously rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. You arch your back, letting your knees spread apart to give him easier access. He pulls his hand away and smacks your ass, laughing at the soft moan it elicits. 
He wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you back to rub against his cock. You brace yourself against the wall with your hands, leaning forwards with your hand down. He thrusts against you, hard cock grinding against the fabric of his own jeans. 
His other hand slips into the waistband of your pants, trailing down to your soaking panties. He runs a finger along your slit, “god, you’re absolutely dripping.”
You hide your face in your arm against the wall, shaking your head in shame. Wriothesley laughs, pushing his hand into your panties and running it between your lips. You look so cute when you’re writhing beneath him and hiding your face. He can’t wait to see how cute you’ll look when he has your eyes rolling back. 
He rubs steady circles on your clit, your pussy only gushing with more slick as he touches you. You push back against him with every moan, rubbing your ass onto his aching hard on. 
He leans over you, pressing himself against you completely. His lips hover just below your ear, “hm, pretty girl. So nice and wet.”
He dips a finger inside of you, just barely prodding your entrance with the thick tip. Shockwaves rush through you, your hips jutting out with a mind of their own, your pussy clamping down around him. He pushes it in up to the hilt, your gummy walls clamping around his thick finger. 
He curls it inside of you and watches you fall apart around him, a slutty mess just from one of his fingers. He pushes another inside, working you open. Your arms shake against the wall, threatening to give in and make you face plant against it. 
There’s a hot pressure building in your stomach, heating up more and more by the second. Your thighs quiver on either side of his arm, your arms bend inwards, and suddenly you pitch forwards. 
Wriothesley anticipates your fall, keeping his arm tightly around your waist. He holds you up with one arm while finger fucking you with the other. He continues pumping his fingers inside of you, warm juices dripping out of you and coating his knuckles. He can feel you open up around him, the vice grip you had around his digits finally loosening. 
He curls his fingers inside of you one final time, hitting that soft spot within your walls. You cum violently, muscles spasming against your will. Your whole body shudders and you collapse completely into his arms. You keep your eyes closed, trying to regain control of your senses as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 
When you finally open your eyes, you’re laying on his bed with your clothes off. Wriothesley stands at the end of the bed, also naked and stroking his hard cock. The dark lighting of the bedroom only makes him look more defined, the contours of his abs and arms making you drool. 
He kneels on the bed in front of you, fisting his cock. You find yourself staring at the bulge of his biceps, the contour of his abs, the precum dripping down the tip of his cock. You’re barely aware that he’s propping you up on your knees, running his hands over the swell of your ass. 
He dips a finger into your puffy pussy. You shudder from the sensitivity, your walls fluttering around his finger. 
He squeezes your ass and pulls his finger out. “Hm, I think you’re ready.”
“Ready?” You ask weakly, your face pressed into his pillows. 
He rubs his cock through your folds, collecting all of your slick onto his tip. “Ready for me to fuck you,” he says, lining his tip up with your entrance. “Ready for me to ruin you.”
His words send a chill up your spine, the undertone of his voice something entirely foreign to you. You have no time to ponder what it means before he’s pushing his cock inside of you. 
No matter how many times he fucks you, no matter how long he prepares you for, it’s always a stretch. He’s so big that he fills you completely, the head of his cock pressing against that spot inside of you perfectly. He parts your walls around him, an almost painful stretch. 
He keeps a hand on your hip, using it as leverage as he pulls out and drives himself into you. He keeps a desperate, brutal pace, bottoming out with every thrust. The curve of his cock has him rubbing against your walls, pressing into your g-spot with every shift of his hips. His balls smack against your pussy, shining with your juices. 
His hand digs in hard enough to bruise, the other reaching around to rub your clit. “So tight,” he groans, “ ‘s like your pussy never wants me to leave.”
You whine, bending your back and allowing him a better angle. He slams into you roughly, knocking all of the breath out of your lungs with the impact of his hips against yours. 
His thrusts start to get sloppier, his orgasm building right along with yours. He pulls you up so that your back is flush with his, his cock getting dangerously close to your cervix. 
“Fuck,” he grunts, kissing at your neck, “fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“M-me too!”
He pounds into you at a desperate pace. “G-gonna cum inside you,” he groans. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you, cum right inside that little womb of yours.”
“Wrio~”
He shoved you forwards. “Gonna breed this pussy, hm? Then you’ll have to stay with me—fuck.”
His cock twitches inside of you as he bottoms out for the last time, holding you flush to his thighs as hot ropes of cum fill you up. He sucks and bites at your neck as he finishes cumming inside of you, letting you fall onto your face against the bed. 
He keeps his cock inside of you, effectively plugging you with his cum. He gives you no time to recover before he’s flipping you into your back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. 
“Wrio—it’s too much!” 
He smirks at you, something feral behind those crystalline eyes. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grunts, thrusting into you. “Not until you’re nice and full.”
You’re surprised that he manages to keep the pace he does, fucking his cum back into you with renewed vigour. He leans over you, giving himself better access to slam into your pussy. You cry out with every thrust, raking your nails down his back.
It’s so sensitive, it’s too much, but fuck, does it feel so good. “T-too deep,” you whine, your own words sounding foreign and far away to you. “Too big.”
He laughs, “but you’re taking it so well, sweetheart. And doesn’t it feel so good?”
You nod, babbling incoherently into his ear. Sweat beads down your temples, tears coat your lashes. Your skin takes on a feverish sheen, but you don’t care. All you care about is the feeling of his cock slamming into you and how his arms flex with every thrust. 
His thrusts start to get sloppy, his pace slowing down to a steady rhythm. He lets himself collapse on top of you, effectively folding you in half. 
“Gonna fill you up,” he groans. “Gonna fucking breed you and keep you nice and full. Make you my little whore and keep you here with me.”
You whine, black spots starting to crowd your vision. His thrusts are slow and deep now, his hips moving into you brutally. 
“You’d like that, hm? You said you wanted a family,” he bottoms out inside of you, his cum flooding your pussy. “I’m just giving you what you asked for.”
The combination of his cum and his cock inside of you has you feeling so full it almost hurts. Your senses have dulled, all of your thoughts of leaving having been fucked away. 
Wriothesley lays on top of you, bowing his head into your shoulder. His dark hair tickles your collar bone, his lips pressing against the flushed skin of your chest. 
“Did so well for me,” he mumbles into your skin, “such a good girl.”
You can only nod, running your fingers through his hair to try and ground yourself. You lay there in silence for a while—just him breathing into your chest and you stroking his hair. 
After a while, he props himself up. That same soft look has returned to his eyes, “you’re not really going to leave, right?”
It’s posed like a question but sounds more like a plea. His cock is still inside of you, more and more cum running out as it’s softened. You still feel dizzy from the overstimulation, but looking at him now, you don’t see how you could possibly leave. 
“No,” you say quietly. “I’m not going to leave.”
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 11 — BREEDING
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — wriothesley, zhongli, thoma, ayato
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, breeding, hitting it raw, established relationship, lots of cum & making a mess, taking about starting a family, a little baby fever, praise kink, petnames used: princess, baby, cute boys & feral boys, love sick genshin men
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𖧡 — WRIOTHESLEY
wriothesley's trace was slow on you, on the other hand it was also precise, as if he was wholly sure on where he was supposed to touch you.
at the end of the day, it was him and he was aware on what would please you— certainly it's over his logical thoughts and his body moves on its own when he digs his fingertips into your hips to push into you strongly, a hazy grin brilliantly touching up his soft lips when you curve one hand around his neck, forcing your eyes to meet. his arms hold your legs apart consistently, sending charged shivers hastening from your quivering thighs to your sloppy sex.
how utterly perfect you were to him and how unbelievably well he could snug himself inside your dripping pussy— you're driving wriothesley insane, you better keep that in mind, and the way your walls were narrowing down on his thick shaft, almost tasting just like a warm peck of your soft lips worshipping his skin.
and with no punches pulled, wriothesley wonders if you're real sometimes, it's truly frightening that he cannot resist you. mainly when he ghosts his thumb over your perspiring skin, idly contouring the outlines of your curves and smiling when you puff out a needful whimper because of him. other than that, he doesn't move slowly when it came to his hips, and his hands? well, they're ruthless, way beyond recovering, exploring your body when his painfully hard cock snaps forward— you're almost there and so was he, feeling it wide in your belly, pulling the coil in your stomach and soon after he chases more of his relief, unable to keep his hips still, he tastes the shivers of an impending orgasm like a vibrating, electric current weighting around the hardened outline of his length.
"—wanted this for so long." his way of wording was slurred despite his clear intention to confess his desperation, and you're clearly unsure on what exactly wriothesley meant by that— needless to say there were conversations in the past that revolved around dodging the condom for a while, so he could penetrate you raw and reach the warmest, most delicious sweet spots on your walls without the thin plastic ultimately separating you two.
but instead of asking him for a better explanation, you reach out to touch him and mouth wet kisses over his neck before whining when he spreads your thighs further apart to watch how the filthy blend of your arousal and his milky whites dribble out of your hole, your used slit drawing more of it out each flutter— so, wriothesley does what he believes was the most proper way to handle such situation and immediately shuts his dripping dick back into your core, your mouth going dry by the unexpected intrusion as he kisses your forehead with a soft laugh, sending a ripple of heat to your stuffed cunt while tracing the patterns of your walls with his pink cock head.
it's cute, when he kisses your forehead again before continuing his sentence from earlier, "i dream about this constantly." a low, rumbling heave breaks into your ear all hotly and wet, "to feel you, baby, fuck— for real this time." as you peer up at him— he looks like your cunt just sent him to heaven, his thrusts sloppier than before but imbedded with more passion.
they're purposeful, tensed and slobbering all over your cum-stricken walls— he's giving you his all, holding you still while pushing his cock deeper only for you to clench down again, almost bringing him to tears by how eagerly you were responding and how desperate you fluttered around his shaft, almost strong enough to push him out again, your sensitive pussy so responsive, and deliberately letting his cock feel the warmness of your insides.
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𖧡 — ZHONGLI
under the homely protection of zhongli's weight on top of you, he greedily pumps his thick shaft in and out of your cunt, attempting to shift his hips a little so he could trace his cock head even better, more so finer into your walls that the intense precision of it stole the air off your lungs.
the passionate noises expelled by your bodies graze against the shell of your ears, the wet, smacking plunges burgeoning at every following thrust as zhongli twists his large palms around your knees with the force of his bodily strength before pressing them towards your chest, your complete frame now folded in half, your dripping cunt on full display and fuck, you're so damn tighter this way— and your precious husbands eyes edged on to the brink of swelling with translucent crystallines due to how unbelievably constricted your tiny hole got just when he sunk back inside, seeking out more.
pushing his tip through your pussy, he roams over your silken walls lingering on his shaft, the small oozes of your arousal and his cum spitting and drooling all over his dick as he rams it back into you, so he could claim you, dwell on top of the correct spot, so he could scatter his load all over your insides, his balls slapping against your flesh. zhongli doesn't give you time to breathe, leisurely fucking you through your helpless whines, puffed out hiccups of zhongli, zhongli, touching the depths of his heart as you coax a breathy chuckle from his throat— you're so fucking adorable when he gets you to that point of wobbly trembles taking over your frame, your half-broken sobs sealing the cracks of his soul.
zhongli likes to dwell on the thought of starting a family with you, his cute darling loving him and yearning for his body— it had always persisted through his consciousness whilst playing small fantasies on repeat. truly, it was difficult to hold himself back in bed, taken into consideration just how strong zhongli was, and he genuinely does try his best to not go beyond feral on you, holding himself back when he lastly drips his creamy cum down to your battered walls, your head lolling back and digging into the disheveled pillows as your mind breaks in shambles.
in spite of that, he gives you what your body shamelessly yearned for, his bangs sticking on his wet forehead as zhongli continues to paint your sloppy pussy and plaster his cum all over you, dragging his hard shaft over a sensitive patch on your responsive flesh. suddenly— you make a mistake and cry into his neck, whilst unbeknownst to you, you're turning him on again immediately, his cheeks inked in redness, his lips curved up, his eyes widening with a light bead of sweat forming just above his brow bone.
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𖧡 — THOMA
this was, without a doubt, the furthest you have ever gone with thoma this eventful night— and you cannot help the perpetual twitches of your body before you pant out a passionate cry, so blissful that it brought you to tears when he cums inside of you again— with a low, deep rumble of your name coming undone, a feral noise coruscating through your delicate shape with how impossibly intense and hot it was.
his white, creamy seed sowed a blistering hot spot on your inflamed cunt as his sticky load easily slips into you and overflows the deepest depths of your pussy, messily bubbling out instantly before thoma swiftly crowds it back into you— your fists trembling against your body when his cock messily slaps at your cunt.
but do not be mistaken, because his muscled arms won't move away from you, even after cumming large and hot, he keeps his hips steady at all times whilst slowly rutting in and out, in and out before lifting up one of your leg to settle it on top of his shoulder, coaxing minuscule effects of overstimulation on your throbbing pussy.
"fuck— i can't wait." thoma suddenly whispers at you, his lips leaving wet manifestations on your cheek before grabbing onto the swell of your breast with his palm, all the while forcing his thudding cock back into your poor cunt, your clit twitching in anticipation to climax once again. "i really can't want to start a family with you."
in a way, you could state that thoma meant it in a literal sense, because the split moment after spelling his words out for you to hear, he does not waste a single, more second before ramming you into a feverish daze— and he thinks it's adorable when all you can do is whine in response, your hips steadily moving up to receive his blows as you corner his neck with your trembling arms, your lips mouthing hasty please, please, please, and more, more, more, as a pearl of sweat forms on your forehead.
you clench so tight around him now, thoma thought he's about to break under the pressure you put him through— despite that being utterly determined to make this work flawlessly, prolonging your lust when he reaches down to your clit and flicks one calloused finger over the bristling bundle of pleasure, pending between rubbing rough circles over your inflamed nerves and nudging his fat cockhead inside your cunt walls, his balls straining from the heaviness of his milky whites when he once again— nuzzles his face inside your neck and noses over the familiar scent of your wet skin before shooting his full load into your tight pussy, his abs hot and red, flexing with the ridges imbedded in sweat.
thoma just loves his little sweetheart so much, and he'd never deny any requests you'd throw at him— and the moment he comes back from his strong high that made his heart almost burst out of his chest, he nips at your bottom lip all sweetly, his hands a little shaky, closing around your frame;
"i just love you so much, ‘can't wait to start a family with you."
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𖧡 — AYATO
your husband ayato was, in his untouched eminence, a kind man— compassionate and affectionate, and he works hard at his job to provide for his family, adores spoiling you and treasures your precious frame, as if it's the most delicate, most exquisite diamond in the world.
most importantly and beyond anybodys imagination, the yashiro commissioner likes to reveal a side of him, that he believes needs to devour you entirely;
"so tight, fuck!" he curses through a tensed jaw when he fucks you, and your ayato always made it his duty to tell you just how he was feeling because of you— what kind of pleasure he was experiences, how his soft, kissable lips touched up into a hazy smirk when you peer up at him, "i crave you, princess." he whispers again, your moans energizing him to hit all inside you, splitting you effortlessly with the thickness of his shaft reaches places.
it's quite easy for him, and he fills every last inch of your pussy that it overcrowds you and you start to believe that if you were to push down on your stomach right now, that you could actually feel him brush in and out.
another experimental thrust and you greedily squeeze up around him as he makes you swallow around his cock, gaping down before admiring just how fucking sinful it looked disappearing in your sloppy pussy— a ring of pearly whites presented around his shaft, almost like you're claiming him that particular way, the film of your arousal sticky and spilling all over his stiffened erection.
"w-where do you want me?" ayato leans over to mouth a kiss on your cheek before whispering wetly into your ear, hoping you are still able to respond despite looking like a hot mess by now— your legs quivering and on the brink of giving up on you if it wasn't for him strictly keeping them apart;
"inside..." you babble incoherently, inside, inside, inside, gasping, when he observes you struggling to properly take the fullness of his cock even though he had prepared you properly beforehand, his muscled arms looked against you before he drums his erection back and forth, your cunt creamed up and ready to take another one of his load.
"fuck— you don't even know how much i wanted you to say this." he confesses, the soft sounds of your cunt suckling him in appear like the finest music to his ears— and your body arches up into his chest, twisting slightly under him as you listen to a deep groan fall from his lips.
you whine, overstimulated, and squirm under the towering touch of his body when he obliges to your pleas, your bedroom feeling oppressively hot as he fills you at last, the trace alone, fuck, the warm feeling of ayato filling you with his seed made your head spin and rewire— he was so big, so hard and he just felt so good throbbing angrily inside of you.
his balls drip with your arousal and his cum, there was just so much of it that it made you dizzy, an aching pulse on your wet sex pawing its way through your sensitive places, your body jolting heavy while grinding on his hips, his dick sinking and bulging constricted around your insides, mouth agape and whining out a silent scream.
it took your breath away, truly, and now it’s silent and everything else stood still, only your foreheads pressed against one another, the room humid and smelling of lewdness and filth— but it's comforting in a way, and ayato’s hand drums up to your bare side, inches his way all up to your soft cheek before pushing you against his mouth with the same intensity as he was handling your pussy earlier, squeezing the air from your lungs, suffocating you with sweet nothings and praises, new confessions and small fantasies of breeding you once more.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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Fitness Trainer
A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)
Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.
TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content
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And up... and down, just like that."
The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 
"One more, you can do one more for me."
"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 
"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."
He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 
“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”
The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.
You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 
You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 
You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 
Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 
“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 
You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 
Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 
His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 
He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”
You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 
You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.
“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 
“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 
You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 
“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”
Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 
“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 
“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 
He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.
“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 
It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 
Antoine shook your shoulders. 
“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”
“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.
“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 
“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 
“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”
The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 
“O-okay.. I guess..” 
He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 
He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 
“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 
You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 
“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 
“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.
The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 
“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.
With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 
“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 
You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 
“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.
Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 
“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 
Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 
“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 
“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 
You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!
Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 
Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 
His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 
He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 
Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 
His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 
 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 
Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 
Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 
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sociorafe · 4 months
Text
CAUGHT RED HANDED — jj.maybank
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pairing: jj maybank & fem!reader
summary: keeping your relationship a secret has been pretty easy so far, but when the both of you get carried away one day, it’s hard to defend yourselves when you get caught by fellow pogues.
warnings: making out, marking, dry humping
author’s note: requested by anon, thank you, i had fun writing this! also i just realised that my blog’s aesthetic is rafe and yet somehow i have more jj content lol. oh well. i hope you guys enjoy <3 feedback is appreciated!
taglist: @rafetopia @rvfecamerons @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut
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“Y’know,” you mumble out breathlessly as JJ sucks on the soft skin of your neck. “They could come back any minute.”
You feel JJ smile into his wet kisses, your hands threading into his blonde hair, gently tugging at the roots when he sucks on your sweet spot. He grumbles against your neck.
“What?” You ask, eyes fluttering closed as his lips begin sucking and teeth nibbling. You’re 100% positive that he’ll leave marks and you’re not sure how you’ll explain it to the others. Bad mosquito bite? Maybe a bad reaction to some new lotion? Please, since when did you buy new lotion?
“Jay…” you shift in his lap, your barely covered core rubbing ever so lightly against his crotch. You can feel him through his cargo shorts… so, so, so big. “S-stop. You gotta-gotta stop. Jay, baby. I can’t have you mark me up.”
JJ pulls away with a pop! from your neck. His eyes sparkle as he stares at his handy-work. “And why not? I think I did a pretty good job.”
You roll your eyes, hands sliding out from his hair to rest behind his bare shoulders— his t-shirt thrown somewhere behind you. “You do realise who we’re friends with, right? They literally came up with ‘Pogues don’t mack on other Pogues’. We’re literally breaking that rule and you’re making it obvious.”
JJ hums in thought, “What they won’t know won’t hurt them.”
You suppose he’s right, but still… the others could be back at any moment. They only went out to get some beer and food— a twenty minute errand at the most.
The angel on your shoulder tells you to call it quits before you get caught, but the devil is speaking louder; a few more minutes won’t hurt, in fact, you’ll enjoy this moment a lot more if you kept going.
“Come on,” JJ slides his hands to your hips, gently squeezing the supple flesh as his fingers toy with the waistband of your lacy underwear. “They’ll be arguing over what food to buy anyway, we have plenty of time.”
And with that, it seems he’s convinced you to keep going.
JJ smiles up at you before capturing your lips against his. You turn your head slightly to deepen the kiss and a rogue moan echoes in your throat as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. It feels like torture not having him inside you, so the next best thing is to grind against him until your body feels like putty.
Your hips move slowly at first, feeling the thickness of him through his shorts drives you crazy and you open your mouth slightly to allow JJ to slide his tongue in. You drop a hand from his shoulder to trail down his chest and torso, your own stomach tensing when you feel the hard muscles underneath your fingertips.
JJ pulls away briefly, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; his lips turning red from the force of his kisses.
“Look at you, baby.” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he watches you grind against his erection. It takes everything in him not to flip you over and make you cry out his name. “Could watch you all day—“
His words get cut off by a loud slam.
You stop your movements abruptly, heart hammering in your chest. “What was that?”
Another loud slam and muffled voices now reach your ears. “Fuck! They’re back!” You push off JJ in lightning speed, your head snapping in every direction to find your shorts. “Where the fuck are my shorts?!”
JJ scrambles up from the sofa, diving towards his strewn t-shirt lying on the floor near your feet. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he tries and helps you find your shorts but for some fucking reason they’ve vanished.
“Now is not the time for things to go missing. Where are they?” You hiss at him. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest.
“I don’t know!” JJ is picking cushions up, books up, pieces of furniture and your shorts are still nowhere to be found. “Look, hey. Just sit on the sofa, put a pillow on your lap and pretend to look comfy. I’ll sit over here and just… sit.”
You freak out at his idea but drop down on the sofa when several footsteps sound from down the hall.
“Hey, we got so much food. Kie and John B didn’t know what to get so… uhhh what’s going on?” Pope looks between you and JJ, one hand on the back of the sofa as he studies the two of you.
Sarah moves into the room next, her eyes landing on your face before swivelling to JJ’s and squinting at his hair. “What’s up with your hair, JJ?”
JJ swipes at his hair until he thinks it looks normal again. It does not.
John B and Kie file in next, the bag of food drops from Kie’s hand and she tries not to laugh. Whereas John B is holding a box crate of beer and if he dares to drop it you know you’ll get the blame for causing a distraction.
“What the hell did you two do?” Kie always figures things out first. “And don’t lie. It’s obvious you two did something. Spill.”
You look over at JJ and he shakes his head. “Nothing. We were just talking the whole time you guys were out.”
You wince at his poor excuse but from the way Pope shrugs his shoulders you think you’ve gotten away with it.
“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” Sarah says, arms folding over her chest. “I mean, if you two were just talking, then why is JJ’s shirt inside out and Y/N, why are your shorts hanging off the back of the couch?”
“Oh.” Is all you have to say. Well. That’s that then. Relationship exposed or whatever.
“Yeah, I’m not dealing with this.” John B turns on his heels and walks back outside with the beer, Pope just nods and follows him. Kie and Sarah give each other a knowing look.
“Pogues don’t mack on other pogues, remember?” Kie says, her head tilting at you but her smile says she’s not even remotely bothered. “Just don’t do it on the sofa next time, we gotta sit there.”
You and JJ nod your heads so quickly you feel as if they’re going to fall off. You both watch Kie leave the room, Sarah trailing behind so slowly but stops just before she’s out of sight. She leans against the wall and points to your neck, “Nice work, JJ, but Y/N you got to cover that up.” Her voice is soft, low, almost as if she doesn’t want the others hearing so you don’t get even more embarrassed. “I’ve got some makeup in John B’s room, use some of that.”
You nod your head, mouthing thank you. Once she’s gone back outside, you stand from the sofa and make your way over to JJ. You slap him on the back of his head. “Ow! What was that for?” He’s rubbing the spot you hit him on.
You stalk out of the room. “That’s for marking me up, dingbat.”
“I love you, though!” He calls from the living room.
“Yeah whatever.” You shout back from John B’s room. “I love you, too.”
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Copyright to @sociorafe 2023.
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toruslvt · 14 days
Note
hiii this is my first time requesting something so sorry if i’m doing it wrong but… i had this rlly delicious vision of bf!sukuna teaching inexperienced!reader how to ride by using his fingers then a dildo just to make sure she’s nice and ready for him <3
 NICE N’ WET
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⋆ mdni. fem!reader, no pronouns used but lots of praising like princess, good girl, sweetheart, beautiful. no prfread.
 ⋆ nonie ilysm this was so yummy, hope I made your idea justice 🙇‍♀️🩷
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honestly, to Sukuna there’s nothing more enticing than the cute way you squirm and hiccup, nails digging into his chest while you sloppily bounce on his fingers, sticky slick dripping down his wrist and onto the bedsheets.
it’s not the first time you’ve had sex, of course not, but your encounters are mostly missionary or doggy with your boyfriend doing most of the work, but under his own words, you just had to “stay still and look pretty” all while he stuffed your cunt with his ridiculously big cock.
this time though, he was up for a change, although the idea of you being so messy and weakly whining how your thighs ached was most unexpected but definitely welcoming. big hand tugging his cock in sync with your whines while the other laid spread in bed, two fingers up, knuckle deep in your slippery walls, “so fucking sexy, princess, you’re doing great” the smirk is present, eyes lingering on your cute body and tits jolting.
“S’kuna... u-uh, please...” it comes out as a weak pleading, slightly losing balance at a sharp crooking of Sukuna’s fingers inside of you, forcing you to lean in and dig your nails on his pecks, “can’t..!”
a deep chuckle is what you get in return, “yes you can, angel, you’re soaked already from just my fingers, no wonder you’re always so wet when I fuck you, you’re a pretty little desperate thing, huh?” meanly teasing your broken whines and shake of your head, he can’t help and tease you, you’re way too cute with eyes glossed over, eager to please or perhaps, just have your man fuck you at least.
“think you’re ready for something bigger?” your boyfriend smirks, pulling his fingers out of your cunt with a lewd sticky sound and equal slurping as he cleans his fingers from your essence, so fuckin’ sweet.
much against his good will, the hand around his cock drifts to your waist upon your needy beg for more. he then moves, positioning himself between your thighs and retrieving the dildo you got for the occasion, “raise your hips” he mutters hoarsely.
a soft whimper comes out of you for the nth time, ignoring the ache in the inner side of your thighs as you obey your boyfriend’s command, “a-ah, fuck” you mewl, involuntarily grinding against the toy now placed under your hips, that wetly smacked ok your clit thanks to Sukuna’s grip on it, keeping it steady for your pussy to take.
“spread your legs wider” he mutters, slightly serious but mostly concerned for your comfort, swallowing thickly at the sight of your cunt swallowing the toy, “good girl, use your knees, don’t put so much pressure on your thighs” he adds, and suddenly, his mouth goes dry at the sensation of your folds against his fist where he’s still gripping onto the toy, begrudgingly pulling his hand away and wrapping the slick coated palm around his own cock, much thicker than the dildo.
“feels good?” Sukuna asks breathlessly, not really liking the fact that you’re moaning so wantonly over a piece of silicone when his cock was right there, drooling precum just for you and your slutty sounds, but he’ll accept it this once, until you get the grip of it and take the initiative at riding him silly.
“mhm! it’s deep—” you croak, Sukuna’s hand on your hip gently helps you up and down while the other —while away from his length— pushed your thighs open, fixing your heated body into a more comfortable position, and from where he laid, face in front of your sloppy cunt, he could see and hear the way your folds gripped on the toy, making his own mouth water at the prospect of having you do that to him.
“fuck, yeah? keep talking, sweetheart”
breathless grunts, moans and wet papping were heard in the room, mingling with each other in a lewd dance, “fills me so good” you continue through the symphony, “i can feel it in my stomach”
“you’re killing me” your boyfriend grunts in return, hand speeding over his cock, not really having the patience to continue watching you get fucked stupid on the toy, so with a sudden movement you’re now straddling him, ignoring the whine of protest at the same time Sukuna guides his cockhead along your slit, collecting slick with gritted teeth as not to slam you down and force his way inside your hot pussy.
his tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip, smirk back to his face while taking in the sight of your shaky body, perked nipples and drooling hole, “come on, beautiful, show me what you’ve learnt”
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months
Text
Liar, Liar
Joe finds out you've faked it in the bedroom before, and he's determined to make sure you never lie to him again
Warnings: smut (thigh riding, intercourse), language, fluff at the end
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"I mean", Sarah paused as she topped off her glass of red wine, the bottle hitting your coffee table with a thump, "there's this expectation that we're just supposed to be at the ready whenever they get home, and sometimes I'm too tired." She sunk into the couch dramatically, her confession earning a couple of hums and nods in agreement from the group.
"Exactly! Like just because you have the stamina of an athlete, doesn't mean I do!", Rebecca chimed in, raising her glass to the group, a few intoxicated chuckles echoing through the living room.
You were tight lipped as you tucked your legs underneath you on the couch, taking a big gulp of your wine as you nervously played with the hem of your sweater.
It was your turn to host the monthly Bengals WAGS get together. It started out as a book club, but quickly became a gossip and venting session where everyone would reveal the things that bothered them about being married or dating a professional athlete. It wasn't really your scene to air out your dirty laundry to anyone outside of your relationship, but you wanted to make friends in the organization, so you offered to bring the alcohol.
"Y/N, you're awfully quiet tonight." All eyes were on you now, and you shrunk under the scrutiny. "Spill it girl, everyone's dying to know how Joe is in bed." Tiffany, the most senior wife on the team, she'd been married to her husband for over a decade, scooted forward towards you. Desperate to change the conversation, you pivoted. "Uh, can I get anyone more wine?" You quickly lifted to your feet and scurried to through the house before anyone could stop you.
"Yeah, baby, how am I in bed?" Joe's voice startled you as you collided with him in the kitchen, Joe catching you at the waist. "Oh my god, don't even start." You playfully slapped him on the chest before pulling away, making him chuckle. You disappeared into the pantry and reemerged with a couple of bottles of wine.
"Where is the bottle opener, babe?" You searched the usual drawer, coming up empty. "Here." Joe approached you from behind, his crotch pressing against your ass as he reached above you to grab the bottle opener. "You better have nothing but good things to say about me", he teased you, a whisper in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.
"That doesn't bother you, that people are asking about something so intimate?" You asked, furrowing your brow as you looked at Joe, who simply shrugged. "I mean, not really. As long as you're not getting too detailed", he smirked at you, making your stomach flutter, "its just your version of locker room talk. Its harmless in my eyes."
You removed the cork from one of the bottles with a large with a loud pop. "So I shouldn't tell them about how you like to-", you gestured at your chest suggestively. "Hey! Those are details." Joe wagged a finger at you, playfully patting your butt as you walked back to the living room.
"Y/N! You're just in time!", one of the other wives perked up as you reentered the room, filling up the glasses before you sat back down. "Oh really?" You weren't sure you wanted to hear what they were talking about to be honest. 'Yes! We've been talking about whether or not we've ever faked it with our guys." She wiggled her eyebrows at you, "you know, in the bedroom."
You choked on your wine, letting out a couple of forced coughs to catch your breath. "I, uh-", you were feeling the pressure to say something memorable. You really hadn't ever faked an orgasm with Joe, but you really wanted to make friends with the other wives, they were your lifeline when you spent a lot of weeks alone. "I'm sure I've done it once before, I just really can't remember." You immediately regretted saying that, your throat going dry.
****
Once all of the ladies had left and you had cleaned up the living room and kitchen, you headed upstairs to get ready for bed. Joe had disappeared at some point during the night upstairs to watch game tape, but when you checked his office, it was empty. You followed the sound of the shower to your bedroom, spotting Joe's pajamas laid out on the bed.
"Remind me to never host a party again", you chuckled, "The wives are something else." Joe barely acknowledged your presence as he walked out of the bathroom, a towel tied at his waist. "I was thinking we could go to brunch at this new place Sarah mentioned." Joe was silent as he slipped a t-shirt over his head. "Joe?"
"I have practice tomorrow", he finally bit out with a sigh.
"I know. I mean after practice. Maybe we could run a couple errands together? Its been a while since we've done that."
"After practice, I have meetings." Even if you didn't know your husband well, anyone could tell that Joe was upset about something.
"Babe, what's wrong?"
Joe let out a curt laugh, louder than intended. "I don't know. You're the one faking orgasms, why don't you tell me?" Joe wasn't boastful, neither in his private life or on the field, but he did have pride, and it was wounded tonight when he heard you telling all the wives how unsatisfied you were with him in the bedroom.
"Joe, listen, I can explain that-"
"How long have you been lying to me?" You knew you had to tread carefully here and make sure you didn't say the wrong thing. "I haven't been lying to you, Joe. You said it yourself, its just "locker room" talk."
"And we agreed, no details! I don't talk to the guys about you like that." Joe sat at the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed in anger. You straddled his lap, raking your hands through his wet hair. "You're right. I crossed a line, it won't happen again, okay? But really, babe, it was nothing." You teased him with a quick peck on the lips, Joe deepening the kiss as he held you in place by the back of the head. You moaned as you felt his tongue roam your mouth, gasping for breath as the two of you made out.
You broke apart out of necessity, your chest heaving as you looked at Joe's baby blue eyes, your faces inches from each other.
"Show me."
You held his face in your hands. "Show you what?"
"When I'm fucking you. Where you're faking it." You groaned as you lifted yourself off of his lap. "Joe, let it go, please." Joe hated losing, always had, and this admission felt like a loss to him. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to walk away, pulling you to stand between his legs. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your jeans before he unbuttoned them, pushing them past your hips and exposing your lace panties. He pressed a kiss just below your belly button, his lips lingering against your skin as you shivered. You stepped out of your jeans, kicking them off to the side.
"If you're not lying, and this is just locker room talk, let me fix whatever's wrong."
The thought of you faking an orgasm truly did upset him, and as much as he hides behind his male bravado, there's something incredibly intimate about being able to truly release for your partner, no holds barred. A level of trust he's worked hard for, and you so easily revealed to be false.
You opened your mouth to speak, but could only let out a gasp as he quickly had you mount one of his large, muscular thighs, his hands holding you down at your hips. You instinctively ground yourself against him, the friction of your panties rubbing against your clit overwhelming. "Joe, I-" you mumbled against his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss, your fingertips digging into his shoulders as you quickened the pace of your hips, alternating between moving back and forth and in lazy circles as your orgasm built in your core.
"It can't be this, baby", he whispered, taking in your face as it contorted with pleasure, "that doesn't look like the face of someone faking it."
"I promise you, I'm not faking it." You bit out, throwing your head back. You pulled your shirt off over your head, your breasts at eye level with Joe. His nose trailed down your front, nestling between your breasts as he laid wet kisses between them. You were quickly coming undone, frantically moving on top of him. He could feel you getting close, your thighs clenching around his leg. "Get on the bed."
You climbed around Joe, lying on your back as he stood, the towel around his waist falling to his feet. The tip of his cock was bright pink and leaking with pre-cum as it rested against his lower stomach. You were salivating at the thought of feeling him on your tongue, but Joe had other plans for you. You felt the mattress dip as he pressed a knee into the bed, moving to position himself between your legs.
He let out a dark chuckle as he stroked himself, watching you wriggle on the bed uncomfortably, desperate to reach your climax. "Were you lying about this part, baby?" You let out a squeal as he drug the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing your entrance before pulling away.
"Joe, please", you begged, very aware of how desperate you sounded. You shifted yourself down towards him, growing impatient. "Joe, what?" At this point he was just enjoying toying with you. "Joe, please stop playing around." You could fake with your words all you wanted, but your body gave you away. You were no actor; there was no faking the shaking legs and the heaving chest.
He moaned out as he sunk deep into you, bottoming out as you adjusted to his size, slowly moving your hips around his pelvis. He leaned over, framing your head with his forearms. "You know, I could never fake this with you." He moved to your throat, grazing his teeth against your skin. At this point you were just cockwarming him as Joe pressed kisses to your jawline.
"Joe, please, move. Fuck me, please." You whined in his ear, digging your nails into his back, but he continued to hold you there with his body weight. There's nothing you can do but submit to him and you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, but you can tell he's holding back.
"The way you feel when I'm so deep inside of you." He slowly pulled out before slamming his hips back into you, all of the breath leaving your chest. "All of this is real. Always has been, always will be." He pulls out again, this time pushing himself to the hilt agonizingly slow, so you feel every inch of him.
The pace he set was relentless, his thrusts audible in the room as you coated his cock with your slick, hurdling toward your orgasm. "Fuck, Joe. Fuck, don't stop", you breathed out, your eyes shut tight. You tried to reach down to pleasure yourself, but Joe pounded so roughly into you, you couldn't focus, the circles around your clit erratic, your moans vibrating in your chest. "I'm- I'm, Joe-" you stuttered, gasping for breath, tears welling in your eyes from the intense pleasure. "I've got you, baby. I've got you", he reassured you, seeing you grasp at the sheets to steady yourself.
He studied your face, looking for the sign that you were close. There it was: you scrunched your face tightly, your nose wiggling as your release washed over you, your cushiony walls clenching down around him. He remembered how cute your orgasming face was the first time he saw it, an innocent juxtaposition to the explicit actions happening below.
"Such a good girl. So good, baby." He praised, as each pulse of your muscles pulled him in deeper, making his hips stutter, warmth pooling in his stomach. He continued to fuck you so you could ride your high as long as possible, but you were overstimulated. Joe nestled his face in the crook of your neck, groans leaving his mouth as he felt you tighten around him, and in within seconds he was cuming inside of you, "Oh, fuck, fuck", he cried out as you milked him for every drop of his release.
You pulled him in tight, cradling his head and drawling lazy circles on his back as you both came down from your high. His pants in your ear made you shiver, a giggle slipping from your lips as his cock grazed against your sensitive bud when he pulled out. He pushed away from the bed, resting on his hands, laying to the side of you. He took his time admiring your perfect body, his fingertips dragging along your sensitive skin, your face blissed out and euphoric.
"You know I'd never lie to you, right?", you stroked his cheek with your thumb as he looked down at you. "I love you, Joe."
"I know. I never should have doubted you." He gave you a small smile as he rested his chin on your chest. "Just no more bedroom talk with the wives. Deal?"
"Deal, baby."
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luminnara · 2 months
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Unheavenly Creatures | Feyd Rautha/reader (NSFW 18+)
Summary: Feyd Rautha has taken a liking to you, a handmaiden accompanying your mistress on a diplomatic visit to Giedi Prime. He decides it's time to add another darling to his collection.
Warnings: knife stuff, blood stuff, mentions of murder, sex, a lil cannibalism, sex sex sex, dubcon-ish tones? lots of biting, it's feyd rautha it's not gonna be all sunshine, but he is also not as terrible as canon entirely so idk
Word count: 6k
Check out my feyd rautha playlist!
Tags: @austinswhitewolf @aeilani @maneater17 @serrendiipty
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The Harkonnen palace was a cold place, not in the sense that the air was crisp and you could see your own breath, but rather that the austerity of its halls and monochromatic decor felt positively frigid. As if even the buildings weren’t meant to harbor life on this toxic, forsaken rock anymore. Everything you had seen of Giedi Prime so far had felt the same—stark, brutal, inhospitable. A barren wasteland with blinding white skies and dark acid rain.
And yet, House Harkonnen seemed to thrive beneath the black sun, growing numerous and powerful and rich. Before arriving, you had heard horror stories, rumors of what Baron Vladimir and his nephews were like, none of them pretty. When you had been informed you’d been chosen to accompany your own House’s leaders on a diplomatic trip to the Harkonnen homeworld, you’d considered pretending to be sick to get out of it. Faking your own death had seemed like a valid option at that point.
But with little choice of your own, you were forced to follow along as a handmaiden, and from the moment you set foot on Giedi Prime, you were determined to keep your head down and hope that the meetings went smoothly so that you could return to your own planet as quickly as possible. As you walked dutifully behind your Lady, hands folded and eyes trained on your feet, you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose at the putrid, chemical air, unaware of the dark eyes watching you.
“My nephew, na-Baron Feyd Rautha,” Baron Harkonnen rasped, his voice like dry gravel. His words had you glancing up to finally look at what the Harkonnens considered royalty, and what was supposed to be a quick peek turned into a curious stare. The Baron himself was a large man, and he was levitating, wearing a long black robe that touched the ground even while he was so high above it. Tubes connected him to what you could only assume was some sort of breathing apparatus, a dark, spherical thing floating behind him. Standing behind him to his right was a much younger man, dressed in black and staring directly at you.
You felt a chill fly up your spine.
Feyd Rautha tore his eyes away from you and inclined his head in acknowledgement, looking to your Lord and Lady as formal pleasantries were exchanged. You kept your eyes down once more as you finally moved indoors, where the air was fresh and stale at the same time, and the walls were imposing and cold.
You followed along as your Lady was given the grand tour, a journey that ended at the guest wing. You were shown to your room and all but locked inside, left alone to inspect your temporary lodgings. If the rest of the palace was bleak, this was entirely featureless—a single boring bed sat in the center, a small table off to the side. There were no windows, not a shred of natural light despite how high the ceiling was. How anyone could willingly design such a place was beyond you, and you counted yourself lucky to only have to endure it for a short time.
Dinner was served that evening, hosted by the Baron and his nephew. You were permitted to join, dressed in a plain white gown as you sat in silence, doing your best to disappear. You could feel Feyd Rautha’s eyes upon you as you ate and tried to ignore him, cutting into what must have been meat and realizing it was rare at best, perhaps an organ from some large beast. Nonetheless you ate it, finding it adequate and perhaps even tasty, eating in the calm and measured manner expected of you back home.
Suddenly, Feyd barked a laugh. “A pet at the dinner table?”
You glanced up at him and found yourself fascinated once more. His pale skin, nearly white, was completely smooth; you had yet to see a Harkonnen with hair, though you did not know whether they removed it or simply never had it in the first place. His blue eyes were so dark they appeared black in contrast, and as he grinned at you, all you saw were black teeth, and it was somehow beautiful in that brutal, gruesome way of Giedi Prime.
“Do your pets always dine with you?” He rasped, his tone mocking.
“Na-Baron, she is not a pet,” your Lady said sternly, and you felt safe knowing that she would defend you. You were loyal to your House for a reason, after all; you knew your leaders would bring you home safe and sound. “She is my attendant.”
“You must forgive my dear nephew,” the Baron said. “Your customs are not ours.”
You expected a rebuttal, but none came, and Feyd Rautha’s eyes remained glued to you as you ate.
-0-
The negotiations seemed to stretch on.
After dinner, you had helped your Lady retire for the night and then returned to your chamber, laying in bed as you stared at the distant ceiling. All the stories you had heard of the Harkonnens swirled in your mind, and you thought of their recent extermination of House Atreides and shuddered. Your House was desperate to stay in their good graces, you knew, and who could blame them? No one wanted to end up slaughtered like the Atreides.
You told yourself that you were safe. Even if the Harkonnens had lured your Lord and Lady to Giedi Prime under false pretenses, you were only a servant; there was no reason to kill you as well. Aside from Feyd Rautha’s comments at dinner and the stark discomfort of the palace, nothing had happened to make you believe you were a target, and though you knew it was borderline blasphemous, you took some solace in the knowledge that it was more worth their while to kill your masters than you.
When you finally relaxed enough to close your eyes, however, sleep came surprisingly easily, and your dreams were simple and comfortable.
In the morning, you prepared the Lady for the day, and then she and the Lord entered their meeting with the Baron, leaving you alone. There was nothing to do but wander the guest wing, though that only occupied you for a short time as there was absolutely nothing to look at. Nothing in the way of art decorated the walls, and the architecture was so smooth and so plain you quickly grew bored of it. You doubted you would be permitted to participate in anything that even semi-resembled entertainment, and as minutes stretched into hours, you realized your feet had taken you out of the guest wing and into a corridor you had no memory of.
You turned in a circle, seeing nothing and no one familiar, and made the decision to continue on. Surely someone would have informed you of any off-limits areas upon your arrival, and with absolutely no guards in sight, it couldn’t be that bad for you to wander this area as well.
Your steps echoed around you, breaking the oppressive silence of the hall. The architecture was bafflingly different compared to that of your home, where wood and warm stone blended together to create buildings that felt welcoming. On Giedi Prime, everything was harsh and inhospitable—including the people and their homes.
Though your interactions with the Harkonnens had been brief thus far, you could confidently say that they weren’t winning any popularity contests, except perhaps amongst themselves. Nearly everything you’d ever heard about them was bad, and so far, you mostly found them strange; the Baron was fearsome in the way a sick, desperate animal was, with those eyes that followed people as if he were wondering what it would be like to crush their necks in his hands just because he could.
His nephew, on the other hand, was fearsome in the way a predator was. His movements were smooth and confident at dinner the night before, his eyes calculating as if counting how many moves it would take him to press a knife into your gut. You had heard of Feyd Rautha, the pretty boy of Giedi Prime, but you had never seen him before yesterday, and quite frankly, you had expected something else…but then again, what had you even expected at all? The na-Baron was surely cruel just as his uncle was, but he seemed…different.
The clang of metal followed by the sound of a muffled thud startled you out of your thoughts of Feyd, and with a start, you realized you were standing outside a closed door. It was the first noise you’d heard that wasn’t your own all day, and your heart pounded as you quickly stepped back. Perhaps you should run, lest you be caught outside the guest wing. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter at all, as no one has explicitly ordered you to remain in your chamber. And, above all else, perhaps you were curious about what lay on the other side of the door, and you took a step forward again.
It was only a heartbeat later that it opened, revealing Feyd Rautha.
“Well, well,” he said, voice rough, “what do we have here?”
He was dressed in all black, in what you assumed were casual clothes for the Harkonnen royalty.
“Apologies, Feyd Rautha,” you said quickly. “I was passing by and heard a sound.”
You could feel his eyes raking over you as he listened. Then, a smirk crept across his lips, and he help up a bloody dagger.
He did so slowly, and you knew it to be an attempt at intimidation. He wanted you scared. He wanted to shock and disgust the outsider who came from another great house, who had surely never encountered anything like him before.
But you were tougher than that. You may have been a handmaiden for a spoiled aristocrat, but on your planet, hunting was common. You’d had your fair share of field dressing game, and you weren’t one to shy away from a knife.
You eyed the dark blood dripping from the blade, then focused on his face once more. “I apologize if I have caused an interruption.”
“Not at all,” he said, brow twitching as he tilted his head slightly. “Though you are to address me as na-Baron. Only my darlings may use my name.”
“Of course, na-Baron. My apologies.”
“Why are you not in the guest wing, little pet?”
“I have nothing to do, na-Baron.” You shrugged.
This time, he grinned, baring black teeth. If he expected you to cringe away, he would be surprised to find that you seemed almost unimpressed with the display. “So you walk freely, as though you own this palace. I could kill you for the insolence.”
You looked at him boredly.
“I could gut you.” He took a step towards you. “Stick this knife into you. Right. Here.”
He was standing before you, the tip of the blade poking your belly, still grinning. At your lack of reaction, however, the grin faded slightly, nearly faltering.
“Not there,” you replied, a bit amused by his lack of skill.
“What?”
“If you aim to gut me, that’s a terrible place to start.” You wrapped a hand around his and moved the knife over slightly. “This is better.”
He watched your face. “You’re a Bene Gesserit witch.”
“No,” your lip quirked in a small smile. “No, I’m experienced in the ways of hunting and traditional field dressing. Our House is known for them.”
“You’re a hunter? A weak, little thing like you?” He pressed the blade against your dress and laughed.
You considered stepping back, away from the na-Baron and his knife, but you recognized the growing fervor in his eyes. He wanted to hunt, to pursue, to drive the blade forward until he could feel your blood on his skin. Feyd was like a hunting hound, eager to follow the scent of his prey, easily triggered by the chase. So you stood still, studying his pale, smooth face.
“The Lord and Lady enjoy hunting on the estate.” You finally answered. “I often assist in dressing the game after.”
“But have you killed?”
“My uncle took me hunting when I was young. I learned much about the ways of nature and the hunt.”
“You speak so formally,” he taunted, leaning in.
“I do, na-Baron,” you replied curtly. “I do not wish to offend.”
With a sick smirk, he leaned into you even further, lips brushing your ear. “Have you killed a human?”
You watched him from the corner of your eye, and he watched you.
“Na-Baron, I fear I’m lost. I’ll return to the guest wing promptly if you’ll point me in the right direction—“
“Don’t change the subject, pet.” He drew back. “Lying to me is unwise.”
You swallowed hard. “Why do you wish to know?”
“You’ve caught my eye, little one,” he withdrew the blade, leaving the smallest stain on your dress. “And you’ve already told me all I need to know.”
You felt a chill, the back of your neck tingling as you watched him raise the bloody knife and lick it clean. Feyd Rautha was dangerous. More dangerous than you knew.
“Return to the guest wing,” he rasped. “I must attend to my darlings. They grow lonely without me.”
You stared, perplexed, as he strode away, an uneasy feeling washing over you as you turned and hurried back the way you had come. The sooner you could leave Giedi Prime and its unnerving House, the better.
-0-
“What?”
“Hush.” Your mistress scolded you, but you barely heard her.
Your head was too busy spinning.
“You are to remain here,” your Lord repeated. “In the employ of the na-Baron Feyd Rautha.”
Your heart dropped in a sickening way.
“You’ve been so very good to me,” the Lady said. “You’ll serve House Harkonnen very well, I am certain of it.”
“But I-I—I’m…” you paused, trying to catch your breath and quell the panic tightening your chest. “I’m loyal to our House, milady. And I want to return home, to the palace, and serve you.”
“Baron Harkonnen was insistent,” your Lord said flippantly. “It seems Feyd Rautha approached him sometime after our meeting yesterday, and this morning as we finalized the agreements, it was decided you’d be included in the negotiations. Imagine that, a fresh alliance with House Harkonnen and a fine sum for a handmaiden!”
“You…sold me?” You asked, your voice sounding incredibly small.
“Now, I’m sure you’re nervous, but really, these Harkonnens are nothing to worry about. Those nasty rumors back home are simply that, and I’m sure you’ll be well taken care of. Now, we must depart at once, and you are to be shown to the na-Baron’s chambers.”
“Ta ta, dear one!”
And just like that, your entire world was shattered.
As you followed a Harkonnen servant through the corridors, you kept your head down. You felt furious and lost, anger twisting in your gut. So much for loyalty—never before had you been made to feel so easily replaced, and yet they had given you away so willingly you could hardly believe it. Whatever negotiations had been made, whatever new deals struck, you had been deemed unimportant enough to your House to simply be left in the care of a dangerous man, and now you felt your very life was suddenly in grave danger.
“We have arrived, milady,” your guide said timidly, hunching her shoulders and clasping her hands tightly as you turned to look at her.
“Thank you,” you replied, brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “Am I to…enter?”
“Yes, milady,” she seemed to bite the words, not angrily, but in an effort to get them out quickly.
“Is Feyd Rautha inside?”
“Yes.” Came the whispered affirmative.
The bald woman was nearly trembling, and you felt as though perhaps you should be, as well. Feyd Rautha had been intimidating every time you interacted with him, and now that he had made the baffling decision to demand you remain on his planet, you were beginning to think you ought to fear him.
But he was only a man, you reminded yourself as you faced the door. Not a god. Not some supernatural being. The na-Baron was flesh and blood.
With a deep breath, you opened the door.
“You enter unannounced?” A familiar voice rasped.
Feyd Rautha was indeed inside what appeared to be living quarters, and the room seemed lavish by Harkonnen standards. A large bed with black sheets sat against the far wall, before which was a simple sitting area featuring oddly shaped sofas, all black as well. A mirror was mounted on the wall near the bed, and you chose not to wonder about its placement. You spied two doors on either side of the room, and in its center, stood the na-Baron.
“I was told to come here,” you said, voice tinged with irritation.
“And so you have,” he smirked, twirling a dagger in his hand as he approached you. "Obedient."
When he reached you, invading your space and nearly brushing against your chest with his, he caught the way your nostrils flared angrily and grinned. His black teeth, previously so fascinating, brought only annoyance now, much like the rest of him.
“May I ask what exactly is going on, na-Baron?”
“Oh, I simply couldn’t let you leave,” you felt his blade as the flat of it pressed up against your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “I had to have you, pet.”
“I am not a pet,” you spat, unable to contain yourself any longer. “And I demand to know exactly why I’ve been sold as one.”
The knife was pulled away as Feyd circled you. In the mirror near the bed, you could see him looking you up and down, appraising you freely now that the two of you were hidden from the rest of the galaxy.
“Your masters gave you away easily,” he said, stopping behind you. “They did not realize your true potential.”
“My potential?” You hissed, head jerking to the side to watch him from the corner of your eye. “And what might that be, na-Baron?”
In a blink, he had leaned in, rough hands suddenly gripping your sides as he brought his lips to your ear. “Call me Feyd.”
His too-hot breath on your neck and the tone of his voice caused your anger to stutter. “I-I thought only your darlings called you by your name?”
“Oh, it’s a clever pet,” he taunted, nipping your earlobe sharply. When he saw that you stayed still and didn’t flinch, he seemed pleased. “What do you know of my darlings?”
“N-nothing, I don’t even know what that means,” you answered truthfully.
“My darlings,” he began, a hand moving up to brush through your hair, short in the style of your position—former position—within your—former—house. “Are the most beautiful creatures. They are very special to me.”
You were in danger.
You knew it.
“I want you.” He said simply, pressing his lips to the back of your neck, and you knew he meant in every way. “Give yourself freely.”
“Why me?” You asked, mustering your courage to speak above a whisper.
He chuckled at that, running his tongue up your spine to the base of your skull. “You are just right, the perfect addition. You are unafraid. You have a taste for meat. And you have killed.”
You were silent for a moment, jaw squared. “I never told you that.”
His hands were creeping over your hips now, across the front of your dress. When he spoke, his voice was low and heady. “Who was it?”
Another long pause came as you wrestled with yourself, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth as you finally tried to speak.
“My father.”
As Feyd Rautha let out a guttural groan at your admittance, you stared at yourself in the mirror, and nearly didn’t recognize the person you saw.
“You and I are alike, pet,” his hands squeezed at you harshly while his nose pressed into your hair. “I killed my mother.”
A part of you felt sick at the suggestion that you were anything like the monster that was Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. Another part of you felt a strange comfort in the knowledge that you weren’t the only one in the room who had committed parricide.
“I haven’t shared that in a long time,” you admitted.
“Did he fight it?”
You could feel his arousal as he pushed his hips against you, the sensation bringing an unexpected fire to your core.
“Yes.”
“Did he deserve it?”
You stared at yourself in the mirror and saw an unexpected harshness in your eyes, the polite handmaiden now completely absent, replaced by what you had feared you truly were ever since the day of your father’s death; a killer.
“Yes.”
But if you had feared that you were bad for it, that you deserved punishment, Feyd Rautha seemed determined to prove otherwise. He turned you in his arms, never letting go, and brought his lips to yours in a greedy kiss.
“I need you now,” he breathed, almost sounding vulnerable for a moment.
“Take me,” you said against his lips, determined not to stop and think about what exactly you were doing.
If you were going to be kept and tortured by a Harkonnen prince, you may as well enjoy your last moments, right?
Feyd Rautha guided you to his bed in a way that was somehow both smooth and rough, gentle and demanding. He didn’t want to break you, but he wanted to see how far he could bend you before you snapped. He wanted to test you.
Your dress was quickly thrown to the wayside, torn by his dagger, his clothing following suit. As you lay on your back, fully bared to him, he crept over you, eyes taking over your body as he continued his earlier appraisal.
“So strange,” he muttered as he brushed his fingers over the soft hair between your legs.
“Are you…truly hairless?” You asked, eyeing his smooth groin. “You don’t…remove it?”
“Hair is…barbaric.”
You could have laughed at the irony of him of all people calling you a barbarian.
“I do not hate it on you,” he decided after careful consideration. “Perhaps you will keep this, for now.”
You had the odd feeling that you should feel grateful for the honor.
“It will set you apart from my other darlings,” his body moved over yours, eclipsing you as his hand reached between your legs.
He stroked you there, rubbing in a way that wasn’t gentle, wasn’t harsh, and wasn’t patient, all at once. When his lips captured yours once more, your mind spun—but it was a decidedly more pleasant spin than that short while ago when your entire world came crashing down. Feyd Rautha, while somewhat terrifying, was exhilarating, and as his fingers plunged inside of you and his kisses turned into demanding bites, you thought that perhaps this wasn’t so bad.
“That’s it,” he breathed, voice husky. “I want to hear you.”
Your whines and moans filled the heavy air. Feyd Rautha sought to conquer you, you realized; as you came, it wasn’t so much a favor to you as it was an ego boost for him. Either way, you benefited, and as he sheathed himself within you and his hips began rocking back and forth, you were glad for the warm up.
“F-Feyd,” you panted, nails digging into his back as you wrapped yourself around him.
He answered you with a low moan, face hidden in your neck. The na-Baron was merciless, driving into you over and over…but the heat that bloomed inside of you, that feeling that stemmed from your belly and ran all the way to your fingertips…was exhilarating.
He leaned back, one hand gripping your hip harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. The other found your throat and his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing, reminding you who he was. The heir to the Harkonnen throne. The pride of Giedi Prime.
Feyd Rautha.
Your face tingled as he held you, eyes seeking out his. The blue was nearly black, his pupils huge, like a big cat hunting in the dark. He was watching you, frenzied, feral in his ministrations, as if you were his prey and he had finally caught you. Just as your vision began to tunnel he let go and you gasped, gulping in air as he suddenly pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, manhandling you easily as you sank down onto him once more.
His hands were like a vice, pulling your hips down as he pushed up into you, still fucking you mercilessly even in this new position. You would never have expected this from him; you felt too powerful on top of him, too in control of someone who gave you every reason to assume that he wanted to be. That he would be the one weighing down on you, that he would forever and always be hovering over you as he made harsh demands. He was, truly, not as harsh as expected...not that you had ever, for a second, expected to be there with him.
He watched your tits bouncing above him, so much flesh laid bare for him to enjoy, and he soon pulled you down. When you expected him to return to your swollen lips, however, he instead moved his mouth to your chest, greedily sucking and biting your soft skin. He sank his teeth into you, reveling in your sharp gasp, answering it with a beastly groan that was so low and so loud you half imagined it must have shook the walls. The sound had your stomach twisting delightfully, your head fuzzy as Feyd Rautha pulled you closer, closer, closer, until you hardly knew where you ended and where he began. Half-formed thoughts swam in your head, none of them coherent, all of them about him as you desperately clawed at the arms that held you so tightly. He had wanted you, and now he had you, completely, all of you, in every sense of the word.
In that moment, you didn't hate it, or him, or that place; you wanted more. You wanted more of him. As your orgasm mounted, breaths coming in gasps, eyes glued to the pale man below you, you felt happy. Later, you would try to reason with yourself, tell yourself that it was simply chemicals in your brain that brought this on, but in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to do this over and over and over again with him.
"Yes," he rasped, voice muffled by your breasts. You felt the wet heat of his tongue in your cleavage, followed by the sharp bite of his teeth as he pulled you down onto himself. "Take it."
"Feyd," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as your fingernails dug into his scalp. "Feyd!"
It came out as a half-scream as you felt the sting of his teeth, and it was enough to push you over the edge, plunging down into the abyss that was Feyd Rautha's love. His breath stuttered as his hips drove up against you, a growl sounding from deep within his chest as he came inside of you.
You felt his heart pounding as he held you, a sheen of sweat covering his smooth, pale body. You slumped over him, arms falling onto his shoulders limply. You thought you heard him laugh lightly.
"Good," he said, more to himself than to you.
He moved you easily, rolling you off of him and onto the bed as he pulled himself out. You felt slick and thoroughly used, not in a bad way, but in the way you imagined lovemaking should feel. You had never expected to feel such passion from Feyd Rautha, of all people. From a Harkonnen.
"Come." he stood and slipped his arms under you, scooping you up. Your arms immediately hooked around his neck, and as he carried you to one of the adjoining rooms, you wondered at how natural it felt to be with him now.
The door opened to reveal a steamy, dark bathing room, a large basin filled with dark liquid positioned in the floor. Feyd Rautha sank down into it and as you leaned your head against his shoulder, you heaved a sigh. The liquid was thicker than water but thinner than mud, like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was warm, soothing your bitemarks and sore muscles.
"What is this?" you managed to ask after several minutes of silence.
"Hmph." Feyd Rautha laughed, his whole body moving with the sound. "Oil and blood."
He paused, waiting for your reaction.
"...Ah." you said, wrinkling your nose for a moment as you looked down at the bubbling goo. "...It's nice."
His lips spread into a wide grin. "You don't find it disgusting, my darling?"
"It feels too nice to be disgusting right now."
Feyd Rautha moved a large hand to the side of your head and held you against him, pressing a kiss to your temple in a way that was almost tender. "Rest now. You will need it."
Too tired to ask why, you simply nodded, sinking into him as the blood bath steamed around you. If this was to be your fate now, you didn't mind it; and if he killed you tomorrow, at least your final day had turned out somewhat enjoyable.
-0-
"Do you like it?'
The question was simple, only four words, and yet it was never one you had expected to hear Feyd Rautha ask.
You had been living in his chambers for a week, sleeping next to him, eating with him, wearing what he chose and accompanying him wherever he went. You saw more of the Harkonnen palace--the training room was a frequent haunt, and you realized that it was the room you had wandered to on the day of your first conversation with him. You saw more of Feyd Rautha, as well, and you noticed how quickly he often decided to kill those around him.
But not you.
Never you.
He had yet to do anything worse than bite or scratch, occasionally bending your limbs too far when he tested your physical capabilities in his bed but always letting you go just before any real injury occurred. You often felt the smooth metal of his blades, but they never cut deep; he mentioned once that perhaps he would mark you with one soon, leave a scar that only he would ever be allowed to see, but he had yet to enact that fantasy. You weren't sure if that was good or bad.
Now, you stood before him, wearing a simple black dress that clung to your body and shone as if it were always wet, and your head felt too cold.
"I...don't hate it," you decided as you looked at your reflection.
"Good." he ran a hand over your smooth scalp.
"Will it grow back?"
"At first." he said in his accent that was growing more and more familiar to hear. "Eventually it will stop."
"And the rest...?"
He smirked, turning you to face him. "I told you, that will set you apart from my other darlings."
At the mention of their collective name, a hiss sounded from across the room.
You twisted your head to the side, spying the two women you had been introduced to three days earlier. One--who you had learned had been Feyd's the longest--sported a thick black line down her forehead today, but they were otherwise identical. They watched you curiously, bald heads tilted as they looked at you with big, black eyes. Their dresses were similar to yours, and as you glanced back at the mirror, you realized how you really didn't recognize yourself anymore.
Your teeth had been stained black already, your hair and eyebrows shaved and then the skin treated with something that the servants had explained would keep the hair away. You had already undergone one strange Harkonnen beauty treatment in what you had come to learn was a medical spa, and it was the only one that had frightened you--a strange machine had bared down upon you and done something to your eyes, injecting something that changed them and yet didn't change them, causing them to become big and black like Feyd's other darlings. You actually thought your eyesight was better now, somehow.
You matched them now, you realized, like a member of a set. Feyd Rautha's third concubine.
It was an upgrade from your last job, you supposed.
"It suits you." he pressed his lips to the base of your neck. "My darling."
"Thank you, Feyd," you said, growing more and more used to calling him by his name with every time you said it.
You felt him smirk against your skin. He was no doubt very pleased with himself, having managed to completely transform a murderous handmaiden into a sinister harpy in the course of only one week. Granted, Giedi Prime's days were significantly longer than on your home planet, but it was still a commendable haste.
"Come." he rasped in that gravelly voice you were beginning to love. "All of us. It is time for the arena."
He set off towards the door and you waited for the others before falling in behind them, moving as if the three of you had always belonged together.
"Will there be food?" one of them asked in a harsh, hissing voice.
"Yes," Feyd said gleefully.
"Hearts and lungs?" the other asked hopefully.
"Only the best for my darlings."
"Human?" she demanded clarification.
Feyd looked back over his shoulder, his eyes finding you even though he knew you had not asked the question. "Of course."
You stared back at him, swallowing hard. Human?
He grinned, and the others looked at each other excitedly. They both glanced to you and you gave the best black-toothed grin you could, not wanting to give any of them any reason to be displeased with you. Not after you had done so well all week.
Feyd Rautha led the way to the arena you had learned he loved to fight captured Atreides soldiers in, and after a short preparation (during which he killed at least two servants), a guard led him away while you and the others were taken up to a viewing room.
When you stepped inside you saw that a feast had already been laid out, platters of rare meat covering a short buffet table. As sunlight--or a lack thereof? Giedi Prime's sun continued to baffle you--light the room in that strange, black and white, infrared way, you stared at the food. You recognized it. Despite its human origins, you had no reason to be disgusted by it--because you had already eaten it, on that very first night, when Feyd Rautha had watched you cutting into your meal and commented on your presence at the dinner table.
As the others approached, picking out their favorites--lungs for one, a heart for the other--a grin found its way onto your face. Yes. Perhaps this was exactly where you belonged.
The crowd outside erupted in a roar of cheers as Feyd stalked into the sandy arena, and as you settled in next to the others to watch, you smiled to yourself. There was nowhere else you'd rather be in that moment than on Giedi Prime, eagerly awaiting the moment you could return to Feyd Rautha's chambers and celebrate his victory.
PART TWO
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
Text
tw - afab!reader, non/con, implied drug use, breeding kinks, obsessive/delusional behavior, gojo talks about his ex during sex and you can't change my mind. happy valentine's day <3
“This is my first Valentine’s with somebody to celebrate with, y’know.”
Satoru’s slow, melodic voice was just barely outpaced by his idle movements – his hips rolling lazily against yours, each thrust more languid and lethargic than the last. His blunt nails dug into your skin where his hands had your wrists pinned over your head, and somehow, he’d managed to turn the feeling of satin sheets against your back into something rough and cutting. The taste of chocolate and bitter wine clung to the inside of your mouth, but you shouldn’t have been drunk enough for your thoughts to be this clouded, this muddled. A few hours ago, you’d been sure that amount of wine could ever get you into bed with Gojo Satoru, and yet, here you were, suffering silently underneath him as fuck you like he had all the time in the world.
“I mean, there was Suguru, but he wasn’t really the romantic type. I’d be lucky to get a box of chocolates, n’ I was still the one handing out most of the affection. To little thanks, of course.” Were you in his bedroom? You had to be. This was definitely his bed, and with your head lulled to the side, you could see scattered tea candles littered over dressers and bedside tables, forgotten clothes left in crumpled piles on the carpeted floor. You might’ve been wrong, though. When he wasn’t on campus, Satoru lived in a luxury apartment – the best money could buy. Luxury apartments didn’t have bars over the windows and locks on every door. “Not that I mind spoilin’ you,” he backtracked, his voice taking on the faintest notes of a teasing inflection. “It’s just—It’s nice to feel appreciated, sometimes. Suguru was always the selfish type. I’m sure you’ll be a lot sweeter with me, though.”
One of his hands fell away from your wrists, soon reappearing at your chin. Taking you by the jaw, he eased your head back, forcing you to face him properly. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, let alone a proper blindfold, and even in the dim light, his star-bright eyes were almost unbearable to meet. You tried to jerk out of his hold, to straighten your back, but your body refused to respond, your limbs little more than dead weight and numbing static. The only part of yourself that you could feel was your pussy – soaked and hot and vice-like around his cock. You wanted it to stop, to go dry, to make this as unpleasant for him as it was for you, but his public bone scraped against your clit and instead, you clenched around him. A low groan bubbled past Satoru’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he bowed his head and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Already bein’ sweet with me,” he babbled, now partially muffled by proximity. “Just wanna be my little sweetheart, huh? Wanna be good to me?”
His pace picked up, his hips starting to move against yours in earnest. The force seemed to knock some intangible block out of your throat, and suddenly, little whines and whimpers were flooding out of you, cracked moans trickling past your lips in little, stunted hiccups. You tried to spit something coherent out, to tell him to slow down, to get off of you, to stop, but your tongue was too heavy and your lips wouldn’t cooperate and all you managed was a string of pained gibberish, dented and beaten by pitiful, dazed sounds. Satoru only cooed in response, nipping at your collarbone, the curve of your neck. “So, so good for me.” He drew back, leaving just enough distance between you to slot his lips against yours. His tongue raked over yours, and by the time he pulled back, he was breathless and you were dazed beyond any hope of full consciousness. If he was bothered by your glassy eyes, though, your slack features, you couldn’t tell. He was smiling when he pulled away, his expression nearly as gaze as your own. “Hey, baby…”
If you were able to, you would’ve screamed.
“If I knock you up, think we can do this again next year?”
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ohimsummer · 3 months
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LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO
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— minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread
wc 3.3k
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Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.
“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.
He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”
Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own. Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.
A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.
It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.
“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.
“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”
He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.
“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.
Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”
Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.
“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”
A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.
Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.
It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.
Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.
“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.
“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”
“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”
He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”
You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.
“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.
“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”
“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”
It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.
“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”
Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.
“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”
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This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.
The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.
Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.
There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?
It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.
“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.
Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.
A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.
It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”
He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.
“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.
He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.
“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”
Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.
“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”
He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”
Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.
Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.
“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”
He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“
“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“
“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”
Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”
It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.
He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.
It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.
“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.
Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.
“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”
And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.
He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.
“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.
You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”
Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”
A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”
“…Keep talking like that and I might.”
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tagz: @anthoosies @mysugu
1K notes · View notes
sirenmoth · 2 months
Text
Prey
Werewolf x GN!reader
CW:DUBCON, outdoor sex, forest sex, predator/prey kink, knotting, marathon sex, penetrative sex, mind break, breeding, cockwarming, a lot of cum
AO3
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Running as quickly as your legs could carry you, your legs like jelly as the mess of mixed cum and saliva trickled down between your legs, the old dry mess combining with the fresh still warm load, you hope it wouldn't leave a trial that leads the beasts directly to you. You just got away from it again, just barely, having it mount you on the cold forest floor and pound into you with abandon over and over while you begged and screamed in mercy or in pleasure, it was hard to say as it pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until it was satiated for a short time, its knot lodged inside you keeping everything in. The beats cock nice and snug as you warm it with your gummy walls.
How many have you had? It was hard to say, as everything was blurring together, your mind hazing over into a lust-filled cockdrunk state more after each round.
You'd run, get found, mounted by the beast that towered over you, and mounted and fucked into the dirt until you couldn't speak or think once more, a small breather while it laid on top of you while it licked you like it was grooming a pup. Both yours and its lower half covered in cum and sweat, you can feel its soaked fur against your skin as it kept you speared on its cock with the knot that kept you both in place, making sure the creature's thick, warm fertile cum took, making sure a litter was ensured by the end of it all. Once the knot deflated and slipped to you, the second it got off you, and you could stand on your own two legs, you ran.
Rinse and repeat.
Only know it was hard to do that, you steps turned into stumbles, and you turned to leaning on the trees for supports, your mind foggy and exhausted, it was getting harder to get away from the creature, and you know that is exactly what it wants, it's adamant on keeping you close and stuffed full of its cock and cum, never letting you stray to far from it. Mud ran up your legs from your feet to your knees while the mess of white fluids down from your stretched open hole and thighs, the two mixing in the middle, leaves were stuck in your hair, and you had dirt and mud all under your nails and over your hands.
Your eyes blurred as black spots speckled in your vision, leaning against the nearest tree until it past, stumbling a bit more and hoping there is enough distance between the two of you to give you a proper rest. The thumping of paws against the leaf covered ground proved you wrong, you freeze and listen carefully for where it's coming from, then darting off in the opposite direction with it hot on your heels, breathing down your neck as your bruised and sore knees hit the earth, digging into the dirt.
You breathe heavy as you hear it approach, did you stop on purpose or did your legs give out? You couldn't tell as you see its front paw come into view, "please..." you meekly whimper out, wishing it will go easy on you this time. Mounting you, pressing your shoulder down, your hands already bracing for what's going to happen, face sideways in the dirt. It humped your ass a few times in failed attempts to enter, after a minor adjustment and thanks to the dripping mess it left behind, its cock slides in one go, balls deep inside your warm walls.
Without warning and giving you no time, it starts thrusting, rutting into you with reckless movements and the need to breed you. "Fffuuucck- mmm," you moan out, the force of the thrusts pushing you forced causing your knees to dig in further into the earth, hands trying to find some stability to ground yourself.
Nails and claws pin-prick your skin, the momentous force of the thrust rocking you back and forth, but still keeping you impaled on its flared red, heavy cock. The sound of slapping skin muffled against fur and high pitched whines echo out into the surrounding forest, please of mercy or maybe for more.
It's hard to say as you let yourself sink deeper into the mental fog.
"yesyesyesyesyes-" you garble out as another orgasm washes over you, dragging you deeper into the fog clouding your mind, any thoughts you had about running were quickly being pounded out of you with a sicking wet thwap as its fur covered pelvis and thighs met the meat of your ass, its legs on either side of your hips.
Cum, both yours and the beasts, is pushed out of you in clumps and down your legs, onto the earth underneath your limp body. Your legs sore from the friction causing them to dig and drag on the dirt and from the position you're in, you moved your arms to be under your head to cushion it, still the claws dug into your shoulders and your nails into the flesh of your palms. Huffs and growls could be heard from above you, as you cum again, drool starts falling from your lips as you left yourself go, the mental fog finally took over.
All that's left in your mind is the thought of the big, flared cock rutting inside you and how good it's making you feel, bringing you waves upon waves of mindless pleasure as it hits that sweet spot inside you over and over. Giving in to you, you slump your top half down and raise your ass high into the air, presenting and offering yourself to the beast that had been fucking you so good, all cognitive thoughts have left your mind as you enjoy the sensations. Somehow it moves faster, choked moans and sobs escape your throat from every thrust the creature buries itself deep inside you again and again.
"P-please." you manage to get out, not sure what you're begging for any more, but the beast seems to have an idea on what. A brief moment of clarity and to breathe as it stops thrusting but still stays inside you, it repositions so you're now fully pinned underneath, head squished into your arms and your body into the dirt, thighs pinning your calves down as the beast pinned you down, effectively trapping you now with nowhere to go, if you wanted to run it would be impossible. Then it starts back up, pounding and rutting harder than before, this time with a purpose and a goal, barely pulling its cock out before slamming it back in, never leaving you empty, its heavy sack slapping against your thighs.
You can feel its knot swelling against your abused hole again, pressing against trying to get in, more choked whines leave you, "Kn-knot me, please, ple-please." Absent mindedly begging to be knotted and filled, the creature happily obliged. It wanted to breed you full of its litter, and here you are begging for it, even if you didn't know it in your cockdrunk haze.
One finale hard thrust and its knot slips in, inflating as the creature cums one last time deep in you. You cum from the sensation alone, the sensation of the knot stretching you open again, your hole clenching around the knot, trying to pull every last ounce of white fertile fluid out of it. You both lay there, catching your breaths, your sweat covered skin sticking to its fur, drool leaking out of your mouth, eyes rolled back into your skull. Its cum shooting high up, deep inside you, keeping you in this lust-filled mindset a little while longer. Allowing yourself to be licked and groomed by the beast.
Once the knot deflates and the beast pulls out, it expects you to run, but you don't. You lay exhausted and limp on the forest floor, cum spilling out of you, the creature picks you up and flings you over its shoulder, knowing it has won the game you both were playing. Its prize? Fucking you over and over while you lay and look pretty in its nest, having you take it cock over and over while it breeds you. It's not satisfied yet, you notice its cock emerging from its sheath again as it walks, bobbing up and down with each step, who knows how long it will be before it's done with, hopefully you can survive until then.
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soobnny · 1 year
Text
kiss me — lee minho.
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trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy
synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day
word count. 1.4k words
warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more
note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it
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You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.
He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.
Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.
With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.
Like right now.
It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.
Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”
His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.
It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.
“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”
It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.
“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.
The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.
You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.
And then it all clicks.
You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.
And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.
Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.
A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.
He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.
But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.
“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.
There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.
“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.
He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.
“Want me to kiss you?”
“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.
“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”
“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.
The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.
He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.
“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.
His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.
“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.
He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.
A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.
“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.
“I love you too.”
“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.
“I do. A lot.”
“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”
And you do.
Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.
He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.
And only ever for you.
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