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rinhaler · 7 months

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NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k

What a naïve little thing you are.

That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.

But that suits him just fine.

He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.

But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.

You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?

He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.

“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.

But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.

He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.

People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.

You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.

“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.

“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.

Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.

“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.

You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.

And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.

Do you know how vulnerable you’re being?

You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act, do you?

“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.

He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.

He's more than happy to show you.

You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.

“T-Thank you…” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.

“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.

You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.

He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.

You dumb little thing.

Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.

You just aren’t thinking straight.

And why would you?

You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?

These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.

So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.

He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.

He’s laughing too.

But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.

“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.

“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”

“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.

God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.

“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.

“No.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.

“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.

“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.

Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.

“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.

You weren’t.

And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.

“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?

“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”

“T-Tax—”

“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.

He’ll make sure of that.

As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.

You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.

All you can think about is how tired you are.

Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.

But you’re lucky, really.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.

He prefers girls like this anyway.

Nice ‘n pliant.

“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.

“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.

He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.

His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.

Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.

You’ll know what happened to you.

You might even remember who did it.

But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.

And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.

But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.

He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.

“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”

His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.

He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.

Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.

You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.

He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.

And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.

You won’t have to worry about that with him.

Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.

Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.

The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.

Your lifeless body surprises him once more.

He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.

His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.

He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.

And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.

“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.

He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.

You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.

And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.

He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.

His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.

He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.

Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.

With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.

“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.

He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.

But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.

He’s far from done with you yet.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #oliver aiku x you #aiku x reader #aiku smut #aiku oliver x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock smut #bllk smut #tw noncon #tw somno #tw drugging #tw biting #tw marking #tw spit #tw alcohol

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faetreides · 2 months

Note

Feral feral Anakin fucking you every second of the day because he can’t get enough of you and is overly obsessed

send me coryo, luke castellan, or anakin asks (this is a threat)

implied canon compliant prequels and childhood friend afab royalty reader (basically in padme's place) based on an upcoming fic

This is canon Anakin behavior actually, he's like a big dog with his favorite chew toy. The dog obviously loves the toy a lot but it's because of his love that the toy becomes well used. No matter how tattered it becomes, the dog will still curl around it and spend its days licking the hell out of it until it withers away.

I think that because of how he grew up, just a little boy on some ball of sand whose life really didn't belong to him, as soon as he's free from that he just unravels. I love Anakin being written as more unhinged or even slightly like an eldritch horror, because suddenly he has this big destiny laid out in front of him and the tethers holding his soul together inevitably come unhooked. I think that he's wired like that from the beginning, very passionate but without a means to express it.

So, when he meets you, little royal heir with all the stars of the galaxy in your eyes, he tells a familiar story about an angel and from then on, it's over for him. Every moment of his life orbits around the sun in his solar system, you.

The first think he thinks when he sees you again, is how your moans would echo off the windows when he eats you out on one of the couches. Then he imagines your perfectly manicured hands clawing delicious ribbons down his back while he rabidly pounds your sopping wet pussy against the wall of your huge walk-in closet in your apartment. He'd have to hold a hand over your mouth, but he wouldn't do a thing to clean up the slicks that drips out of your pussy onto the floor. You'd pout as you'd rush to get ready before Obi-Wan came back, and all he'd be able to do in response is hook his chin over your shoulder and smile.

"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."

You're leaning against a balcony overlooking a lake in Naboo and all he can think about as he strokes a shy finger down your back is hiking your dress up and bending you over it. You're chained to a pillar in between him and Obi-Wan, and when all is said and done, he wishes he killed everybody that was relishing in your suffering in that arena and fucked you with their blood coating his body. He could go on forever until the last grain of sand on Tatooine flies away. He'd have gotten you barefoot and pregnant immediately if the leash around his neck was any looser.

No matter the fantasy or the moment, you always have at least one mark on you. He's not patient enough for hickies and his fingers move too quickly for any serious bruises to form on your body. He favors bite marks, near perfect impressions of his teeth etched in your soft skin. He doesn't bite to tear, just does his repeated 'chomp!'s without a single thought in his head; your thighs bear the brunt of it. Anakin likes when drops of blood bead at the surface of the bites, because then he can lick the bites soothingly. You usually have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to come back to himself when he starts doing it on autopilot with his eyes rolled back.

"Yes, yes, yessssss.... love fucking my cunt, missed making love to my sloppy pussy. Taking my dick so well, keep breathing with me, my love. That's it, just like that."

His way of saying good morning is languid strokes deep in your guts. His way of saying good night is crazed thrusts that have him putting it back it when his frenzied pace causes his length to slip out. He has is so hard sometimes, determined to carry the entire galaxy on his shoulders with you on top of it. You can the rising anger that builds within him when everything he does to prove himself goes unrecognized. The best way he has to ignore all of that outside responsibility is knocking your sweaty body up the bed while you're clutching the headboard for dear life.

Anakin's emotions bleed from him so openly, and all you have to do is drink them in. Because even though he wasn't free when he met you, you owned him them with his gift around your neck. You own him now, your cervix kissing his mushroom tip in its own display of affection. He is supposed to live his life with the intention to be the force's son, but he is burning to ash faster than he is fulfilling his destiny; at least he can keep you and your future children warm.

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mini-ism · 11 days

Text

#— DADDY DEAREST. ♡︎

pairings: gallagher x gn!afab!reader x welt yang

words: about 1.1k

synopsis: mr. yang and gallagher decide to team up.

warnings: MDNI!!! afab (gender neutral) reader, light choking, daddyfication/daddy kink (gallagher), sirification/sir kink (welt yang), double penetration, biting, hair pulling, praise, not proofread lolol, p in v.

notes: i wrote this because welt decided to come home real early tee hee. and also because i ♡︎ gallagher :3

♡︎ imagine being passed back n forth by welt and gallagher…

gallagher is absolutely brutalizing you, slamming your hips up and down on his own hips as welt watches with a slightly less stoic face than usual, perhaps a bit more of a smile.

welt watches with interest, palming the erection in his pants quietly as gallagher continues slam-fucking into you.

you whine and cry out for “daddy,” and gallagher only encourages it. he coos, telling you “daddy’ll take care of ya,” and, “nobody fucks you like daddy does.”

gallagher continues to bully into your cunt, spilling his seed inside you carelessly, watching you writhe and whimper under his calloused grip. at this point, welt had already started to stroke himself, dutifully noting what makes you scream and what you dont feel quite as much.

welt joined you after gallagher pulled out, the two began to work in sync. gallagher accompanied your side, massaging your body and kissing your neck sloppily, leaving bite marks on your flesh. welt, however, positioned you onto your back, watching the cum spill out of your swollen pussy. his lips curled just a bit more.

welt slipped in with relative ease, especially for his size, letting out a low, gravelly moan. it rumbled in his throat, his eyes fixed onto your face, which would scrunch up and loosen with every movement in and out of you.

he was gentle and slow, but deceptive. with every experienced thrust, it only became harder. he continued to move at the same agonizing pace. gallagher played with your nipples, nearly shoving his tongue down your throat. you could taste candy on his lips and tongue.

before you knew it, you were whimpering and squirming again. gallagher’s hands were grasping your throat, depriving you of air, as welt made you cum, watching you ride the mellow wave of the orgasm.

welt was a man of few words until prompted, choosing to remain awfully silent at times, “it’ll feel much better soon,” he promised.

welt’s hands moved to your thighs, gripping the underside as he bent your knees to your chest, folding you like a lawn-chair. gallagher kept your legs tucked with one thick arm as welt picked up the pace dramatically.

“fuck— fuck, yes, sir!” welt chuckled lightly at his new name.

“that feels nice?” he rasped, his yellow eyes gleaming with desire.

“yes, sir!” you gripped at gallagher’s arm, his messy brown hair clinging to his face as he grumbled against your skin, lazily pumping his shaft to the sound of your mewls.

you started to pant as you felt another intense orgasm building within you. the sensation of gallagher’s breath and his bulky arm holding you down with force, as well as welt’s hands on your body, and his thick cock fucking into you like a toy sent you over the edge.

you heaved into gallagher’s body, “sir” being the only thing that your mind could strum your vocal cords with. you reached out for welt, your hand delicately rubbing against his abdomen. welt had increased the amount of brute force he used to fuck you, chasing his own high.

“you know, i’d like to come too,” he remarked, “you can’t always be so selfish.”

you whined in response, grabbing gallagher’s hair and holding onto it harshly, “gonna make me cum again if you keep doin’ that…”

you kneaded and wove your fingers into his hair, tangling your hands through the thick mess. you could feel him nipping at your neck and pumping his shaft quickly, attempting to keep himself from going over the edge.

welt approached his own orgasm quickly, watching your eyes screw shut with every deep movement of his hips, “i feel really good too.”

welt’s hips seemed to control his mind, reason hanging on by a mere thread. he could feel the coil in his stomach tighten before it eventually loosened. he let out a loud, guttural groan as his cum shot into you, your sensitive body shaking with every breath you took.

“you think i can fit in there too, mr. yang?” gallagher chuckled, mischief sparkling as he turned his gaze to look welt in the eyes.

“maybe, we could see.” he retorted back, with just as much humor.

welt gently maneuvered you to allow gallagher to support you, laying under you. gallagher positioned himself to your other hole, poking the entrance with his tip.

“waitwaitwai—” they did not wait.

gallagher pushed deep inside you, feeling your walls tighten around him, causing him to groan in pleasure. both men started to move inside you in unison, the pleasure immensely doubled. you could feel that you were wetter with both of them fucking you at the same time, making your pussy leak a mixture of both of their seed and your own slick.

welt’s hands moved back to your thighs, grabbing them gently as he maneuvered himself into your pussy, cockhead rubbing against your g-spot as gallagher shoved his fingers into your mouth.

gallagher made you suck on his fingers, the other arm snaking back to where he clamped you down by the waist. his fingers left your mouth as soon as he deemed adequate, rubbing slow circles on your clit as both “sir” and “daddy” began to fuck into you faster.

“fuck, fuck— hhhnnn…” you pawed at welt’s torso again, as gallagher’s fingers began tracing your clit faster, his two digits rough and big enough to cover your entire bundle of nerves.

“you’re so good for us, babydoll,” he purred, welt smiling down at you in agreement.

welt followed up with gallagher’s praises, “that’s right.”

you could hear both men huffing in your ears, their thrusts becoming harsh and mean again. you could hear the slapping of skin against skin, at least when you weren’t screaming out “daddy!” or “sir!”

“you feel so fuckin’ good,” gallagher hissed, his arm tightening its grip around you, further dizzying you. with each bit of force gallagher used, you could feel welt so much more inside you. it was damn near intoxicating.

without warning, gallagher squeezed you tight, pressing you to his body as he came in your ass, your walls tightening like a vice. this made welt cum before he thought he would, his face tightening and flushing. he moaned slightly as he pulled out of you, gallagher following close behind.

“i wanna see this,” he crawled over to welt, who was admiring their teamwork.

you laid there, mind fucked out, body shivering, and cum seeping from your holes.

nothing was quite as satisfying as this.

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intoxicated-chan · 1 year

Text

Your Sweet Neck

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel wasn’t going to lie, your neck drives him crazy.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Your Sweet Neck” by the Moog. I have little information about Miguel but I love this man! I praise everyone writing fics when the trailer for the movie only came out.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 963

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, smut, p in v, biting, blood, wounds, overstimulation, mentions of paralyzation, mentions of death, bruising…

Miguel loves your neck.

He loves it when he’s able to trail his fingers over your neck. Maybe even when his claws are out, drag them over your skin. But there was one thing he would like to do but was too scared.

Bite your neck.

His hands were firmly planted on the sides of your head, careful that if his claws were to suddenly emerge. His head nuzzled into your neck, but his mouth remains shut as he fights the temptation to attach his mouth to your neck.

All he could let out are heavy breaths and hisses as he thrusts into you. One of your hands comes to his back and the other to his hair. He could feel your nails dig into his back as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to your sweaty body.

He can feel his claw begin to come out, tugging on the new pair of sheets when he tries to pull his hand away.

Miguel growls as he moves faster, nearly pulling his entire body away when he realizes his mouth nearly clamps down on your neck.

But you knew that he was holding back, you knew that no matter what, he was always careful when touching you. Wherever his hands were placed, he was paranoid that something bad would happen.

Your hands moved to the sides of his face, and pulling his head back made him freeze, his eyes were wide as he stared into your lust-filled ones.

“Is something wrong?” Miguel asks, searching all over your body for claw marks or bruises.

“Bite me.” You sternly spoke, “Please.”

He chokes on his saliva, “W… What?”

“I know you heard me, Miguel. I want you to bite me.”

“You do understand how dangerous my fangs are, right?”

You nod.

“And you know that I could paralyze you.”

You nod.

“Do you know what I could do to you?”

And again you nod, “It’s not like you killed anyone with it.”

(Side note: I’m unsure if this is true or not! I have only done research but probably not enough! Which also means I don’t know if he can control his venom or not, so for now let’s say he can. Apologies!)

Worry filled his mind as all of the possibilities filled his mind and you can tell they were all bad ones.

“I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

“But this can.”

Your hands move to cup his face, running a thumb over his cheek, “I trust you with my life, I trust you everything.”

Yet his face remains the same, “We don’t have to do this.” You engulf him, “I’m so sorry that I brought it up.”

One of his hands comes up to take one of yours onto his, closing his eyes. Then his eyes slowly open up, revealing his red eyes.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks, his eyes staring into yours, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.”

You smile, “You can never hurt me, Miguel.”

Miguel takes a few deep breaths, then his hands grab your wrists and pin them to the side of your head, “Remember our safe word?” You nod.

Slowly, he moves his hips, remaining at the same speed as he reaches down to your neck. You shudder, your hands flying to his hair. You wait for him, feeling his eyes stare right into your neck. Then you feel him puncture your neck.

You choke on your moans as you feel his hands let go of your wrists, one gripping the back on your head and the other tightly holding onto your waists. Its then when he starts slamming into you, “Fuck!” You moan out.

You try to move your hips but Miguel doesn’t let you move, letting out another growl as he pulls his mouth back, licking over the bleeding wounds. But he’s back attached onto the other side of your neck.

Your eyes roll back and mouth wide open, he continues thrusting into you way past your orgasm, already getting to your next.

You don’t know how long you’ve been moaning for, it was until you felt something hot spill inside you and a loud grunt coming from him. You could barely see from your half lidded eyes. Miguel seems to get up and look over your body, seeing bits of blood spur from the bite marks.

“I love you, (Y/n).”

You awoke with your head pounding, you hiss at the dim light. Your arm was heavy when you lifted it up to try to turn off the lamp.

Miguel grabs your open hand, “Careful now.” He warns, a bowl in his hand, “You’ve lost… A lot of blood. I’m sorry.” He sets the bowl down on the bed cabinet and helps you sit up.

“Don’t be sorry, Miguel. I’m fine, I’m alright.” You lay your head on his shoulder when he sits next to you, the bed sheets seem to be changed.

“I went too far.”

“I was the one who insisted.” As an effort to sooth him, you reach for his cheek, feeling him flinch slightly before nuzzling into your hand, “Even though I am not your spouse, I will remain by your side, loving you, cherishing you. I’ll always trust you no matter what you do because I love you, Miguel O’Hara. So no matter how bruised up I get, it’s worth it seeing you happy.”

“Well…” Miguel looks into your eyes, “I think it’s about time I make you mine, completely.” He chuckles, “I would propose now but I think you should recover first before I let myself lose again.”

You smile widely when you realize, “I trust you, you know.”

“After you recover!” He laughs, grabbing the bowl, “Eat up, the sooner you recover…”

“The sooner I become an O’Hara.”

“I love you, (Y/n).”

“I love you too, Miguel.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spider man 2099 #spider man x you #spider man x y/n #spider man x reader #tw biting #tw blood #x reader #fluff #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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sleepis4theweak · 2 months

Note

I just saw your post on Mikey doing angry stimms and had to ask for more /nf since this is the first time I've seen someone draw angry stimms for a character (it's not that common from my perspective)

Thank you- love your artstyle so much!!! :D

(P.s. I also get angry stimmys too sometimes)

Aww- thank you so much for this ask! I am really, really happy you liked it!! And yeah I feel like angry stims aren't talked about as much...

Anyways I was really super excited to draw more- still using stims that I have done, though these are a little more uh... aggressive? I wanted to preface this by saying that I do these gently, or they are stims that I've replaced with something else hehe :)

For my angry stims a lot of it is based on frustration so it's kinda a lot of flailing? Like aggressive shaking. The biting one isn't something I've done in a while- and is one that I would try to do gently (would not recommend that one lol), and the punching of the thigh is something I tend to do (gently) when I'm hella frustrated with homework :)

#You are so so right about angry stims not being shown a lot #I think partially because they aren't all fun or cute- like these more aggressive ones shown here #or because they don't match.. like with the jumping one I drew earlier. Angry stimmys are veeeery interesting tho :)#I like to hear that you share it <3 #side note I had to sit there biting my hand (gently) for like a solid 10 minutes to get the pose right lmao #ANYWHO SERIOUSLY THIS ASK MADE ME VERY VERY HAPPY!!!! SO THANK YOU FOR SENDING IT!!!! :D <3 <3 <3 #answered asks #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt mikey #tw biting #just in case :)

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blogplutopools · 6 months

Text

TW// BITING & BITE MARKS love bites! OMG it's been a while since i made a comic well here you go! i don't .. hate it but i definitely could have done it better. oh well. i think it's alright lol

#tw biting #tw bite marks #lackadaisy #self ship #lackadaisy oc #rocky rickaby #lackadaisy cats #art #oc × canon #selfship #self insert #rocky rickaby x oc #oc x canon #lackadaisycats #lola deluca #lola de luca

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remember-to-be-gentle · 4 months

Text

Inspired by this tumblr post by @hawnks

Subject: JJK, Satoru Gojo

Title: Hate Me Tomorrow (Omega!Gojo x GN Alpha!Reader)

Trigger Warning: Dub con, omega verse, scenting, size difference, biting/marking, obsessive/toxic behavior, self-hatred, knotting, knot riding, begging, heat/mating cycles, grinding

The sweet, musky scent of Gojo's cologne and sweat enveloped you. Even the giant stuffed beta fish you were snuggling had no scent but his. His pillow fort was surprisingly spacious, granted, Gojo was nearly twice your size so there was a lot of him to fit. But being in here with him was nearly suffocating, and not just because of the light whiffs of omega scent rolling off of him or because he'd practically ripped off your jacket to snuggle into.

He'd called you suddenly, saying that he needed to spend time with someone. It made sense. Geto just died and there were only so many people who were willing to pick up the phone for Gojo, and even fewer he'd actually call. Especially when it was a secret he was an omega, pretending to be an alpha and you were an alpha pretending to be a beta.

The two of you were decent friends, hanging out after teaching at Jujutsu Tech for a drink or a quick round of gossip. He was one of the few people who knew you were an alpha and he an omega, an unusual kinship formed but it was never anything more. More importantly, you knew about his relationship with Geto. You couldn't say no.

Which was why your thigh was snug against his, smartphone balanced on your knee, his favorite plushie shoved into your arms. His head on your shoulder breathes fast but not uneven. It seemed like he was trying not to cry. Poor guy. The winter fashion review didn't seem to be helping him calm down at all. Nor any work gossip. You wanted to stay and help, but it was getting late. If he really wanted to, he could just pin you down, sometimes that thought scared you.

Gojo curled onto his side, struggling closer to you, your jacket wrapped in his hands like a security blanket.

It felt wrong to leave, but you needed to take care of yourself, too. "Hey, bud, I need to get going. Are you going to be alright by yourself?"

Gojo buried his face in your neck, silent. He leaned his weight into you, just enough to make it clear he didn't want to be alone.

Fuck. "I'm sorry. I'll come first thing tomorrow. We'll call out from work and go to the city or--"

His teeth scraped your neck. Possessive, dominant. Alpha behavior. Before you knew what was happening, he was ripping off your scent suppressor, inhaling like he hadn't been breathing for hours. Alpha pheromones leaked from your skin, invading your nose. "Gojo?"

Your stomach turned as your instincts awakened, the need to comfort an omega struggling with your own needs for autonomy. Your fingers dug into the beta fish plushie, filled with his scent.

He reached for his own scent blocker and you suddenly realized what was going on. With his neck practically right under your nose, his omega scent was free. And not just that, he was going into heat. The pillow fort was a nest and this was a trap. Gojo was primed to breed and he was going to use you to fuck away his pain. "This isn't healthy, Gojo, listen to me!"

But his patch was already off and the omega scent of him in your lungs, filling you, lighting every nerve on fire. Your cock swelled under your clothes, reacting to his breedable scent with vigor.

Gently, Gojo took the plush and pushed you onto your back, yanking off his pants as his pale face filled with color. His bandages were already slipping, the iridescent shine of his six eyes laser-focused on the swelling at your crotch. He crawled on top of you, already tugging off his shirt. "Just for today, please." He panted, his thin but muscular chest heaving as if just sitting here breathing was a near-impossible task.

His weight lowered onto your cock and you gasped, feeling his wetness through your clothes. His heat was so pleasant, feverish but warm, empty, and yearning. Blood pulsed lower and you gulped.

Slowly, Gojo rocked back and forth, moaning loudly each time your shaft met his clit. His back arched, nipples swollen and pink, and standing at attention. "Please," he begged. "Just me just for tonight. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please, ah, Y/N. Please, I wanna cum. Let me have it inside me."

It was getting harder and harder to think straight. He felt so good, the need to fill him up, let him fuck himself stupid on your cock growing. It would be better if you let him, a voice whispered. Another said, it's what you were made for. Just let him.

"Gojo," you gasped. You reached for him, tried to make him stop so you could think, but his fingers intertwined with yours and he was moving faster now, his breathy moans coming faster. His skin was so soft and warm, filling you with his heat until you thought you might burst. Blood pulsed in your cock, his pussy was sucking at you through your clothing. He wanted you so badly. You wanted... What did you want to do again? You had to leave but why?

"Y/N, I'm cumming." His hips rocked faster, tummy rolling with downy white hair covered in sparkling slick. "I'm cumming on your alpha cock." He let go of your hands to lay across your stomach, his head buried in your neck to take in your scent, his own making your head spin as pleasure threatened to burst out of your cock. His teeth met your skin, nibbling and biting gently then hard enough to bruise until he let out a long, throaty groan as he came.

Instantly, your clothes were soaked, his hot slick smothered on your member. If you weren't fully erect before, you were now.

Still panting, Gojo lifted himself up just enough to tug your cock free from your clothing. He didn't wait, spreading his pussy with his fingers as he sank down on your tip. Slick gushed down your shaft as he cried out, swallowing your swollen head into his heat. You bit back a groan, fingers digging into the blankets making up the fort.

"You feel so big," Gojo moaned. "So good. I've only done this with Geto, so I'm going to have to start slow." He sank a little further, impossibly tight and hot and wet. "Feels so good," he huffed, rolling his hips and finally, sinking all the way down your shaft.

Your knot throbbed, seeming to sense that an omega was speared on your length.

Gojo humped himself on your cock, needy moans slipping from his mouth each time his hips met yours. "Feels so good, Y/N. I've only felt Geto like this before."

Before you could respond he pulled back to his full height, six eyes glowing in the warm darkness of the pillow fort. He spread his lower lips as he lifted himself up, clear slick drooling from his hole. His pretty, pink, clit a shining pearl at the apex of his thighs. "You did this to me. Look how wet you made me." Slowly, Gojo slid back down, pushing the head of your cock against his cervix. Again, he kept himself exposed and rose up, only to slurp your length right back down to the knot, aiming this time higher, into something spongy and mouth-wateringly soft.

"G-Gojo, I know you miss him but you can't--"

He raised himself up and dropped down, knocking a groan from you both. "I think about him a lot," Gojo panted. "About how empty he left me. In my soul. In my body. So please, let me fix one of those. Just for now. It's okay if you hate me, but I need you now more than I've needed anyone."

Gojo whined, flushed and excited. "Right there." He slammed back down on you with a stomach-churning squelch right into that soft sweet spot. "So good." He was riding you now, using you like a dildo to get himself off, his delicate fingers rolling his clit in circles. You couldn't take your eyes off him. "I want you to cum inside me, okay? Fill me up with your seed. Help me feel less empty."

Pleasure gathered deep inside you, begging to come out as your knot swelled. Shit. You shouldn't. He was your coworker, your friend. But omegas needed alpha seed, he needed reprieve from his heat and you were the only one he could call--because the person he really wanted was dead.

That thought shattered your high, grounding you back in the moment. "Gojo, I know you're still mourning Geto, but this isn't healthy for you."

Gojo settled on your stomach, chest heaving. His hands snuck under your shirt, impossibly soft and warm in your skin. Your cock twitched inside him, wanting him to squeeze and milk you dry but that wasn't what a good friend would let him do.

"I killed him, you know." His hands curled into fists by your hips. "He left me after taking my virginity and when he came back, I killed him on Christmas Eve because he didn't give me another choice. I'm awful, aren't I? Shoko hates me. She won't say it but I know she does. I hate me, too." The blue of his eyes shone as tears gathered, threatening to fall down his red flushed cheeks.

"Shoko doesn't hate you." You said soothingly. You sat up, so much smaller than him, and ran your hands through his hair. "It was an impossible situation, we all think you did the right thing. We--"

He didn't let you finish your thought. Gojo grabbed you by your shirt and slammed his mouth onto yours, his tongue filling you as if he could make you swallow every hateful thing he'd ever thought about himself. "If you don't hate me," he breathed against your lips, his spit wet and warm as it dribbled down your chin, "then cum inside me." He rolled his hips, reigniting the electric pleasure in your core. "Please. You can hate me tomorrow, but right now, I can't let you go."

The pulsing softness of his pussy contracted, squeezing you so tightly you thought you might burst. You gasped for breath when Gojo released you and then did it again. You wanted to move. You wanted to stop. You wanted...

Gojo pulled down the front of your shirt, rolling his hips roughly, chasing his end against your cock. He bit your chest, hard enough to bruise, marking you like an alpha. And that was enough to come undone.

You exploded inside of him, eyes rolling back as your core emptied against his sweet spot. Your hips rolled up into his and you shivered as you felt your knot pop into his pussy, slick sliding down your thighs and onto the blankets.

You struggled to breathe as Gojo laid himself on top of you, breathing fast. He rocked his hips against your knot, already trying to drag another orgasm out of himself. His arms slid under your back, pulling your chest to his. "You're all I have now, Y/N," he whispered, "so please, don't leave.”

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rinhaler · 2 months

Note

I know you have a bunch of requests even if your requests are closed BUT BUTTTTT what about playing fighting with plug! sukuna, i love him and he's evil i just knoww it would lead into super hot sex

if you are ever willing to elaborate i would love to read it, but don't feel pressure and take your time, thank you🥺

ohhhhhh i really got carried away ive missed his toxic ass i love plug!sukuna so much and he loves US 🥹

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, manhandling, size difference, biting, slight pining, ass eating (fem!receiving), spanking, degradation, fingering, vaginal sex, pet names (princess, sweetheart), calls your pussy 'she/her', pull out method, slight cock-sucking, hair pulling, he slaps u 🫶🏽

words: 1.4k

Sukuna lives to torment you.

It’s the only thing that makes any semblance of sense when he emerges from his own bedroom to skulk into the living room. You’re watching YouTube videos in there while you wait for Yuuji to come home from work. It’s not like you’ve really been watching them, it’s more background noise while you play on your phone.

It’s a little odd how the videos are auto-playing reviews of different movies you’ve watched recently.

You jump when you feel his presence behind you. A disgusting, burly clearing of his throat as he reaches over you enough for you to feel skin to skin contact and snatch the remote. He jumps over the back of the couch, legs spreading wide as he backs out of the video you had playing.

“I was watching that.” you tell him.

“No, you weren’t.” he objects. “You’re on your phone.”

“I’m multi-tasking.” you lean closer to him to take the remote back, but you’re left at a loss for words as he holds it out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“No.” he smirks. “You just sit there and carry on playing…” he squints his eyes as he peers over at your phone to see what’s on the screen, laughing immediately after. “Project Makeover? Really?”

You lunge across couch in a bid to grab the remote from him again, having no interest in listening to whatever he considers entertainment while you’re waiting patiently for Yuuji. He retaliates when you get a little too close for comfort.

A yelp escapes as he grabs your waist, moving you with ease until you’re sat on the sofa properly again. His cheek touches yours as he whispers in your ear.

“Enough.”

Your brows furrow and you attack again, a little surprised to see him throw the remote across the room once he picks a channel to watch. You try to run after it, but he quickly brings you onto his lap, holding your wrists in the small of his back as he looks up at you.

“I said, enough. Are you going to behave?” he asks, and you nod.

He lets go, but he knew there was a defiant expression in your eyes as you nodded. You leap up from his lap and attempt to run over to the remote, only to hear him hot on your heels. You bend over to grab it, laughing when you’re thwarted as he grabs your wrist.

“Sukuna,” you laugh loudly as you try to wriggle free from his grip. “Go in your own room and watch your shit.”

“I wanna watch it in here.” he tells, grabbing your other wrist when you try to pry his fingers away. He smiles as he watches you struggle to gain freedom, doing nothing more than moving your arms back and forth in hopes that he’ll free you. “Why don’t you go to Yuuji’s room?”

“I was here first!” you remind him, “And I’m waiting for him to come home.”

You continue to fight him, spinning around until your wrists slip from his palms. He watches you scramble towards the remote once again, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you back towards the centre of the room.

“Stop it or I’m gonna make you scream.” he warns you.

“You’re so full of yourself. I’m not fucking y— aah!” you scream as his fingers tickle into your sides. He didn’t realise how well it would actually work, but you’re shrieking like you’re being murdered.

He lets up when he worries about the neighbours reporting the attempt on your life to the police, still poking and prodding at your hips until you’re a giggling mess. His breath is heavy on your neck as you kick back at him and writhe against his hold.

You hunch over when your stomach begins to hurt, and his body grows tired of fighting you, too. Your strength weakens until you’re both kneeling on the ground with him behind you.

Immediately your lips are on his as you look over your shoulder. You moan into his mouth as he gropes your chest.

“Fuck.” you sigh, breathily, before he shoves you onto all fours, kissing along the column of your spine. You gasp as his fingers hook into your beach shorts, slowly peeling them down to reveal your bare cunt, glittery and pulsating with a desperation to be filled.

“Thought you weren’t gonna fuck me?” he growls, teeth nipping against your ass as he bites softly before he licks over the shallow indentations. You inhale sharply as he kisses further and further towards your ass. You know what he’s about to do and you don’t want him to. He’s such a fucking tease. You’ve never done this with anyone before, but he wraps his arm around your waist to keep you still as his tongue licks over your ass.

He truly lives to torment you.

“Squirming for me, pretending you don’t like it,” he mutters, continuing to swipe over your puckered hole. He surprises you with the occasional attentiveness of a kiss against it, almost like he’s forgetting who you belong to. “Dirty girl.”

You don’t care enough to cover your mouth, knowing Sukuna would pin your arms in place regardless. He likes to hear you. He loves to run the risk of you getting caught. The thought of Yuuji wandering in and seeing him play with his girlfriend is enough to make his cock ache. But it’s very possible, now.

Your eyes roll over white as he slips two fingers into your squelching cunt, still laving over your ass until your body convulses.

“Did you just fucking cum?” he teases you, spanking your ass and smearing your slick all over your cheek. “You really are a nasty little slut, aren’t you? Just for me, though.”

“S-Shut up and fuck me already.” you tell him. You yelp when he slaps your ass once again, but he doesn’t respond. He knows all he needs to do to shut you up is fill you with his length.

You wince as his thick length splits you open, and he moans almost pathetically at the sight of your soft pussy lips swallowing him up.

“I love this cunt, princess.” he reminds you. He presses the side of your face against the floor roughly to keep you in place. You see him out of the corner of your eye, sweating and panting like a wild animal. “Does Yuuji even make you cum anymore? Trained her to be perfect for me.”

“H-He makes me c-um.” you argue. “I l-love him!”

“Uh-huh.” he snarls, fucking you with more fervour than before. “Sweetheart… you can’t love him that much if you’re on my cock again.”

“Shut up,” you bite back, reaching behind you to slap him or punch him or something. But you know him well enough, now. Your arm is pressed firmly into the small of your back, used for more leverage as her fucking ruins you. “There! Su-Sukuna, right there!” you cry.

“Unnfff—” he growls, his hips bruising against your thighs. “Can I cum inside?” he asks, tone a little softer he asks. There’s a level of desperation that’s almost pathetic in it, but you don’t notice. Not when you’re already choking his cock.

“N-No!” you warn him.

It’s almost too late, he begins to spurt inside but pulls out quick enough to shoot sticky globs of white directly on your pussy lips. You shudder as the warm load hits you, hole body twitching and clenching as you desperately long to be filled with his cock and his seed.

“W-Wait!” you object as he pulls up your shorts. The material clings to your body as the cum melds into the fibres. “Ew…” you sigh.

He pulls you up by your wrist onto your knees, roughly tugging your jaw until your mouth widens for him.

“Clean my cock off, bitch.” he commands you. Red eyes leer at you as you do as you’re told. You suck and spit over his cock as you clean up the mess your pussy made of him. The slurping is obscene. It’s nearly enough to resurrect his softening length.

His mouth opens to speak, eyes looking down at you gently. He must see the same look in your eye, clearing his throat before his look becomes stern once again. He yanks you away from his cock by your hair, pulling at the roots before slapping you across the face.

“Clean yourself up.” he scowls, looking over his shoulder as he hears the front door open. He smirks, tucking himself back in his sweats before leaving the scene. “Until next time, princess.”

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