#tw:degradation

[semisgroupie]

SUNS OUT BUNS OUT!

shidou ryusei x fem. reader

wc: 1.8k

warnings: public sex, lots of teasing from shidou, creampie, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, there’s a huge risk of getting caught, guest appearance at the end (I’m sure y’all can guess who), degradation, filthy dirty talk, mention of pet play (VERY BRIEF)

synopsis: your boyfriend can never control himself when you wear sundresses

a/n: this is for the lovely @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab!!! thank you for letting me join and check out all the other amazing pieces!!

Shidou loved this time of the year. It was warm out, there were more things to do that were fun but there was something that outweighed it all.

Seeing you in a pretty sundress he bought for you.

He felt like a rabid dog whenever he saw you in a sundress, it brought out this overwhelming desire that he couldn’t quell until he got his hands on you.

Today was one of the days where one of the sundresses he bought you would come in handy. He planned a picnic date in the park and since it was going to be warm, a thin sundress was just the perfect attire.

You could almost applaud your boyfriend’s efforts of remaining calm and not succumbing to the temptation for most of the date. You two were able to get through most of your food before his loving glances turned into hunger filled looks, his gentle grazes of his fingers turned into teasing touches. His fingers traveled under the hem of your dress and slowly lifted the skirt up but you quickly moved to swat his hand away.

“Oh come on, can’t I see what color panties my sexy girlfriend is wearing?” He batted his long eyelashes at you and went back to what he was doing. You swatted his hand away again and glared at him. “Ryu, we’re in the middle of the park where there’s people walking around. I’m not letting you lift my dress so you can look at my panties.” As if you summoned them on cue, an elderly couple walked past on the walkway near where you two were and glanced over at you two with soft smiles.

“But why not? I’ve been good this whole time so let me get what I want. I know you love the risk just as much as I do. Plus it’s not like I’m fucking you in the middle of the park, if we move a few feet back, we’ll practically be invisible to any passerby. Remember the dressing room a few weeks ago or the ferris wheel last week? We didn’t get caught then.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and bloomed between your legs as you thought about both past events. He wasn’t wrong, you two didn’t get caught surprisingly. But now there was just more of a risk. You didn’t want to get arrested for public indecency but now that he put the thought in your head, you couldn’t deny yourself.

It was as if he could see the gears turning in your head. He helped you to your feet and messily collected all the picnic gear and brought it to the area he was talking about. You followed quickly behind and sat down on the checkered blanket once he set it out again. “So what do you say? I promise we won’t get caught and I won’t be loud at all.” He waited for your response and once you nodded he took your hand in his and pulled you down to sit with him. “But Ryu, if we get caught I will kill you.” He chuckled at your warning and pulled you close to him, “I love when you give me those empty threats. But if you kill me then you’ll just find another guy in the future and you’ll just have boring sex, that’s not exhilarating at all.”

You rolled your eyes and climbed onto his lap, he wrapped an arm around your middle while his free hand traveled up your legs and his fingers grazed your covered slit. “You know, for someone who doesn’t want to get caught you’re fucking soaked.” He chuckled and pressed two of his fingers against your covered clit when you opened your mouth to reply to his comment. Instead of the words of a sentence, what left you was a gasp of his name. “Sorry baby I just want you even wetter for me.” He rubbed your clit over your panties a few times and chuckled when you bucked your hips. “Ryu, stop teasing me.” You whined and looked back at him with a pout, he always did this both in public and in the privacy of your shared home. He would always drag everything out as much as possible whenever it came to him fucking you. He always said that he couldn’t help it, he just loved seeing you get so desperate and needy for him.

His cock was throbbing in his shorts as he continued to toy with your pussy. His fingers moved up and down your cotton covered slit. Just teasing you as he pressed his fingertips against your hungry entrance, just feeling you gush and soak your panties more with your juices. After a few more motions he pulled your panties to the side and slipped just one finger inside you and your greedy walls practically sucked it inside. “Oh poor thing, your poor needy pussy was just calling for more attention. Oh don’t worry, I’ll fill her up with what she really needs.” He cooed in your ear as he slowly started pumping his finger. You whined and bucked your hips up into his hand, trying to get more friction from him. You leaned back against him and your pretty lips formed another pout. “Ryu, please give me your cock. I need it so badly. Please Ryu, please give it to me.”

You knew you sounded pathetic at this point but you could care less. The ache that was burning between your legs was just too much and you needed something to soothe it. “Shh shh, you’re whining so much. I told you I’m getting you ready for my cock but you’re just a needy little bitch in heat aren’t you? Just yapping and whining away until you get what you need. I should get you a pretty collar to wrap around your neck and a cute leash if you want to be my puppy.” He licked up the side of your neck and gently bit your earlobe before he pulled away from you and released his cock from the confines of his shorts.

It was throbbing and a thick bead of precum dribbled from the head and traveled down his cock. He dropped his head and spit on his cock then he quickly lifted you and helped you sink down on his cock. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress the guttural groan that was threatening to escape. “Shit, Ryu!” You gasped as you sank down completely and he clamped his hand over your mouth. You felt his breath on your ear as you started grinding against him, too impatient to wait any longer. “Didn’t you just complain about the risk of getting caught? And you’re here moaning and whimpering like a fucking pornstar. You’re making think that you want to get caught, that you want this entire park to watch me fuck this messy cunt. Is that what you want? You want the entire park to see me slut you out?”

You shook your head and your words were muffled by his hand. “Hm? What’s that? I can’t really hear you.” He teased and wrapped his free arm around you and started bouncing you on his cock. Any protests to his earlier statement were silenced and turned into cries and moans of pleasure. He groaned and grunted in your ear as your pussy clenched and coiled around his cock. “My dirty little slut, just fucking clenching my cock like you need it to survive. Is that it? Do you need my cock more than air baby?” You just gave a nod as you continued to bounce on his cock, letting your body take over and coherent thoughts. He sloppily kissed and licked along your neck and he kept his hand clamped over your mouth. The hand that was wrapped around your middle went up and groped your tits through your dress, he quickly found your perky nipples and pulled on them. You clenched around him tighter and brought one of your hands down to rub your clit, the action added to the tightening coil in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh my little slut is gonna cum, you’re just getting tighter around me fuck. Don’t worry baby, just let go for me and I’ll fill you up with cum. I’ll fill this needy cunt with cum right here in this park.” You started rubbing your clit faster and your legs started trembling as he started thrusting up into you. You threw your head back against his shoulder and let out a muffled cry against his hand as you came undone. He groaned as your pussy tightened around his cock and all it took was a few more thrusts before he started filling you with cum. He dropped his hand from your mouth and both of his hands gripped your hips to grind you against his cock and once his cock stopped twitching he lifted you off his cock.

He quickly moved to cover your pussy with your panties then pushed his cock back in his shorts. “Fuck baby, that was fun wasn’t it? Don’t you feel the adrenaline rush?” You leaned back against him and shook your head. “You’re gonna be the death of me you heathen. Now come on, let’s go back home.” He nodded and you both packed up everything and made your way back to the parking lot. Just as you two were just mere feet away from your car there was a familiar redhead.

“Mr. Child Prodigy! You’ve been ignoring my texts to hang out and now you’re here when we’re leaving. You’re making me think that you’re avoiding us.” And by the deadpan stare on Sae’s face you knew he was partially right.

“I’m not avoiding you both, Ryusei. I’m only avoiding you.” His teal eyes traveled from your boyfriend to you and they scanned your body. They traveled down your body and stopped at your legs, specifically your thighs that weren’t covered by your dress. “But maybe we should schedule something soon, looks like you two have plenty of fun.” Sae’s eyes went back up your body and met your boyfriend’s gaze. It was like the two shared a silent exchange of words and finally Ryusei spoke up. “Sounds good, you have my number. Now I need to take this one home, I hope to hear from you soon.”

With that, Ryusei led you back to the car while Sae continued on his run and you looked up to see a wide smirk on your boyfriend’s face. You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your mouth to question him but he beat you to the punch, “I packed some extra napkins in the glove box, I’ll clean you up before we get in the car.” You furrowed your eyebrows more and looked down, you didn’t have anything on your dress and you know you didn’t have anything on your face but as you looked lower you saw a trail of his cum make its way down your thighs.

Your eyes widened at the sight and all your boyfriend could do was laugh. “It’s okay, this little ‘accident’ will lead to something exhilarating, I just know it.”

taglist: @litepowee @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear & join here

#sundressszncollab #bllk smut #blue lock smut #shidou smut #shidou ryusei smut #shidou ryuusei smut #tw:unprotected sex #tw:creampie #tw:exhibitionism #tw:public sex #tw:degradation

[inkyajax]

feels like forever, even if forever’s tonight

characters: thoma, kamisato ayato

genre: smut

notes: aaaaah my first (finished) genshin piece!!! i had such a blast writing this hehehe i just love this dynamic so! much! reader is female, and this is mostly written from thoma’s point of view. in my mind, this is absolutely a crime family AU, but you’re welcome to think of it in terms of canon if you’d like! please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title cred: mine by bazzi | this piece was originally posted on my main blog.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dubcon, manipulation/coercion, daddy kink, toxic relationships, size kink/size difference, belly bulge, cuckolding kinda (ayato watches thoma fuck his girlfriend), praise, reader is quite flexible, a hint of dumbification/degradation, rough sex, overstimulation + mentioned orgasm denial as punishment, dacryphilia, power play/power dynamics, thoma is a sub-leaning switch in this, interchangeable use of the words my lord/master

words: 5.7k

synopsis:

Everything feels raw, exposed, Thoma’s nails scraping against the thin material of his pants, fingers scrabbling for something to do under such an intense stare. That glitter in Ayato’s eyes seems to shine bright and burning as Thoma squirms beneath it, the ghost of a smirk brushing against his lips.

It’s as though his master’s gaze is stripping him bare—stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, prying open his rib cage and peering into his very soul itself. It’s all so invasive, yet Thoma bares it all to him anyway, almost voluntarily, begging his lord for some instruction, some guidance, some rules to follow and obey and be praised for, eliminating any room for error or overstepping of boundaries, desperate to be told what to do and how to do it so he can satisfy everyone and do it well, do it right, do it the very best.

The walls of the Kamisato Estate are intentionally thick, tasked with concealing centuries of secrets within their wooden embrace. Many important words—deals, negotiations, threats—are spoken throughout these halls, many promises made within these rooms, and such precious, confidential sentiments must be protected at all costs.

So, of course, when Thoma hears the distinct murmuring of that low baritone vibrating through the hardwood floor from below Ayato’s home office, he thinks nothing of it. This isn’t out of the ordinary—Ayato often works late, after all, and it isn’t uncommon for him to be busy sifting through documents and conducting phone calls long after Thoma has turned in for the night.  

It’s common courtesy for Thoma to let his superiors know when he’s done for the day, and common respect to bid them a good night before he finally retreats back to his own quarters, the action so ingrained in his daily routine it’s become almost instinctual at this point.

Those dense manilla walls keep Ayato’s words muffled and unintelligible, even as Thoma nears the room they’re being spoken from, and he thinks nothing of sliding that heavy wooden door open just enough for his slim body to slip through the crack, as he’s done a million times before.

But the scene he’s met tonight with is unlike anything he’s ever stumbled upon, tongue gone heavy and sluggish in his mouth, saliva gathering in suffocating pools at the back of his throat, so much so that it gurgles with his sharp gasp of surprise and he chokes, coughing around the stinging breath tangled in threads of spit.

Various documents and expensive paperweights litter the floor, evidently knocked to the ground by your writhing limbs, naked body sprawled across the surface of Ayato’s long, low desk, one hand curled around the sharp edge of the dark mahogany wood, the other fisted in Ayato’s expensive dress shirt.

Kneeling between your spread legs, a fully clothed Ayato leans over your body, murmuring out a condescending croon as one strong hand catches the trembling ankle hitched on his shoulder, mindlessly readjusting it.

“Poor thing,” he sighs out with a touch of indifference embedded in his tone. “You’ve completely lost control of your body, haven’t you?”

You’re babbling out a string of unintelligible words, letters welded together with spit on your tongue, head nodding in slow, sluggish, stupid movements.

“Well, that’s okay,” Ayato coos, voice silk and syrup. “You don’t need to do anything when Daddy’s here do to it for you, do you?”

You aren’t afforded a moment to answer, though, the hand buried between your thighs twisting, pumping, curling, two—or three, Thoma can’t really tell from this angle—fingers deep in your glistening cunt, motions yanking a cracked whine from your throat.

“You don’t need to talk,” he grunts in time with the thrusting of his hand. “You don’t need to move,” another grunt, another thrust. “You don’t even need to think at all, isn’t that right, princess?”

You don’t answer, and Thoma isn’t sure if it’s because you’re not supposed to, or if it’s because you can’t, fragmented mewls being torn to shreds by hitched little gasps.

“Thus,” Ayato continues, calmly, coldly, serenely, as if he is completely unfazed by the current situation. “Next time, when Daddy tells you to not talk to a client and to stay put during his meeting, you will obey, correct?”

A moan vaguely reminiscent of an affirmation falls from your lips, head nodding in quicker motions now, short and sharp.

Thoma should leave. This isn’t right, staying to watch something so intimate, hiding in the shadows like a fucking pervert; this is—this is morally reprehensible, this is disgusting, this is a very private matter he should’ve never been privy to.

Yes, Thoma should most definitely leave. Anyone with common sense, with half a mind, with any sort of respect for their superiors at all, would’ve already left.

And yet, his heavy legs won’t fucking move, feet filled with concrete and weighted to the floor, hard cock throbbing, begging, him to stay just a little longer.

But then your misty eyes, half-lidded and unfocused and lolling around in your head like a pair of loosely secured marbles, graze over Thoma’s shrouded figure, and your gaze snaps to his face, shock and terror eradicating that drowsy, dopey haze in an instant.

“Daddy—”

“Hmm?” Ayato hums, the curling of his fingers turned vicious. “Didn’t Daddy just tell you that you don’t need to speak?”

“No—” you gasp, the word trembling, wide eyes stuck to Thoma’s face.

“No?” he seems surprised, a touch of amusement in his tone, and Thoma can practically hear him raising an eyebrow—a question, a challenge. “You’re telling Daddy no, after all of that punishment you just endured?”

“Wa-Wait, Da—”

“Oh,” he clicks his tongue, as if it’s such a pity, and Thoma doesn’t need to see his expression to know his forehead’s crinkling and mouth’s tugging downward, features saturated with mocking disappointment. “And you were doing so well.”

“I just—”

“I was going to allow you to cum, too,” he continues in that solemn tone, mourning your lost orgasm that Thoma’s sure you worked so hard to achieve. “Shame.”

“Daddy!” you squeal, the honorific practically fucked out of you by Ayato’s fingers, face contorting as you force the second name from your mouth. “Thoma!”

And, for a moment, everything stops, your whines gone silent, Ayato’s voracious fingers halting their ministrations. Thoma’s blood turns to sharp ice in his veins, his heart freezing in his chest, his breath gone frigid in his lungs.

“Oh,” Ayato says after a moment of realization, following your watery gaze over his shoulder and staring up at his subordinate. “Thoma, hello.”

Shuffling a little on his knees, Ayato turns to face Thoma fully, a pleasant little smile plastered across his face.  

“I—I—” Thoma begins, head shaking in jerky, rigid movements, body thawing enough for him to start backing up, spine whacking painfully against the corner of the wall. “I shouldn’t have—I’m so sorry, my lord—This was—I really just—” his lungs shrivel in his chest as he runs out of air, inhaling harshly to revive them only to choke on his own breath as his eyes involuntarily scan his master’s body, focusing on the shimmering patch of slick staining his trousers, massive cock outlined by the wet fabric clinging to it as it strains against the material.

You’ve soaked him all the way through.

The whimper that sounds at the back of Thoma’s throat as he arrives at such a realization is downright mortifying—automatic, animalistic, pathetic—and he presses his lips together firmly in a futile attempt to silence it.

“Please, relax,” Ayato instructs, calm voice drawing Thoma’s attention back to his face. “You are not in trouble, Thoma,”

And although his voice is ridden with concern, Thoma can see it, that special little twinkle glittering in those periwinkle eyes, the one Thoma’s witnessed a million times before during deals and threats and negotiations, the one Ayato gets just before he strikes.

“I’m so sorry,” Thoma says again, the apology nothing more than a rush of breath from his mouth, elbows bumping against the wall as he raises his hands in surrender. “I was only—”

“Would you like to stay a while?”

Thoma stops.

Stay?

His cock twitches eagerly in his trousers at the prospect, his throat going dry, gummy walls sticking together as he attempts to swallow.

“Uh—Wh-What?”

“You’re welcome to continue watching, if you’d like to,” Ayato continues without a hitch, pleasant and cordial.

“I—” Yes. Yes, he would very much like to. “No, I really should be going. I’m sorry, my lord, I really shouldn’t have stayed—that was so gross of me—please forgive me for such disrespect, I’ll take my leave now—”

“Nonsense,” Ayato dismisses, eyes traveling down Thoma’s quivering body, halting their trajectory at his erection and pausing for a moment before trailing back up. “You are more than welcome to stay if you’d like to. And,” violet eyes flick down to his crotch again, a smug smirk molding to Ayato’s lips. “It seems like you’d like to.”

Of course he’d like to, Thoma’s features crinkle a little in self-deprecating confusion. Who wouldn’t like to?

From behind Ayato’s broad shoulder, you peak out, arms wrapped loosely around your torso, shoulders curved inward in a poor imitation of a shield. You look unsure—unsettled, almost—and Thoma feels that thick, tarry guilt unfurl in the pit of his stomach, spreading to engulf his surrounding organs in its sticky, suffocating embrace, snuffing out his spark of hope in an instant.

What a fucking sicko he is for even considering it, for even deriving the smallest amount of perverse pleasure from such voyeuristic endeavours, for memorizing your expressions and sounds, burning them into the tissues of his brain for later use.

He should’ve never invaded on something so personal, so precious, in the first place.

“I’m not sure she’d like me to.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out as utterly disappointed as it does, whole face crumpling with bitter embarrassment. Eyes scrunched shut tightly, he attempts to clarify himself.

“I just mean—I don’t want to upset—offend—her any further,”

“There are no such worries to be had,” Ayato reassures lightly as he turns back to look at you, a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, long fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, the bow of your lips. “Right, sweetheart? You don’t mind if Thoma stays to watch, do you? Wouldn’t you like to show him how pretty you look when you cum on Daddy’s cock?”

Another one of those sinful whimpers claws at the back of Thoma’s tongue, but your eyes have gone glassy, glittery, glazed over with sheer want, lips parting a little as you nod.

“See?” Ayato says, but his eyes do not stray from yours, his head quirking slightly, voice gone soft. “She doesn’t mind one bit.”

Microscopic shards of ice prick through his skin, and Thoma shivers.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, wincing with the words.

“Absolutely positive,” Ayato responds with an amicable smile, finally moving to face him again. “But the choice is yours, Thoma.”

Swallowing thickly, Thoma’s eyes shift from Ayato’s face to yours, and then back again, tongue running along this top teeth and sucking as he contemplates. He wants to, of course he wants to, god does he ever want to, but—

“Stay,” you offer quietly, chin tucked cutely to your chest, gazing at him through your lashes. “Please, stay.”

And so, he does.

There’s something so taboo about it all, something so wrong, so bad about watching his boss fuck his most precious treasure, cinders of desire flickering in Thoma’s tummy as he settles down on the floor only a few feet away from your tangled bodies, legs tucked beneath him.

The hunger in Ayato’s eyes is fierce enough to swallow you whole, pupils blown and insatiable as they glide over your body, soaking up every expression, sucking down every sound, his face a heady blend of admiration and ardor.

But Thoma can’t blame him; you look breathtakingly beautiful. Skin sweat-drenched and sparkling, lips bitten raw and puffy, tiny crystal teardrops still clinging stubbornly to your clumped lashes, the devotion in your stare so strong it’s nearly crushing. Paired with the symphony of your soft mewls and sweet whimpers, you’re a living, breathing masterpiece all on your own.

He isn’t sure what, exactly, he was expecting Ayato’s style of fucking to consist of, but the healthy mix of slow, hard, sensual thrusts—filled with murmured out teases and lots of biting, licking, kissing—followed by bouts of fast, rough pistons of his hips—filled with sharp, mocking sentiments and cruel little laughs, all still managing to sound elegant in Ayato’s dignified lilt despite their callous nature—is really fucking hot.

Blunt nails carve crescents into his flesh as his fists clench tighter, thin skin stretched taut over his knuckles.

His cock is aching, but he’s unsure if he’s allowed to touch it. Would rubbing the heal of his palm against it be considered rude, or would Ayato see it as silly constraint? What if he took it out? Does he even want to take it out? Is it weird if he does? Is it weird if he doesn’t?

“Thoma,” his lord calls out in a singsong scold, stilling his hips and snapping Thoma from his thread of thoughts. “I can hear you thinking.”

“Sorry, my lord,” he responds immediately, hands uncurling and palms laid flat against his tensed thighs. “I just, uh, I...I don’t really know what to do.”

Heat scalds his cheeks at the mumbled confession, and he resists the urge to shut his eyes against the mirth his humiliation has painted across his boss’s face.

“You can do whatever you’d like,” Ayato responds, as if it’s that easy, that obvious. Amethyst eyes seach his face, and Thoma forces his spine to straighten, avoiding the temptation to hunch in on himself in a futile attempt to protect himself from his lord’s vying, prying gaze.

Everything feels raw, exposed, Thoma’s nails scraping against the thin material of his pants, fingers scrabbling for something to do under such an intense stare. That glitter in Ayato’s eyes seems to shine bright and burning as Thoma squirms beneath it, the ghost of a smirk brushing against his lips.

It’s as though his master’s gaze is stripping him bare—stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, prying open his rib cage and peering into his very soul itself. It’s all so invasive, yet Thoma bares it all to him anyway, almost voluntarily, begging his lord for some instruction, some guidance, some rules to follow and obey and be praised for, eliminating any room for error or overstepping of boundaries, desperate to be told what to do and how to do it so he can satisfy everyone and do it well, do it right, do it the very best.

“My,” Ayato finally says. “I’ve hardly begun, yet you’re so hard you’re leaking through your pants. It’s...incredible.”

Thoma’s eyebrows knit in confusion, head shaking a little to indicate that he doesn’t understand. Incredible? It’s ignominious, is what it is.

But Ayato’s still observing him with that inquisitive gaze, eyes darting to your heaving body for a moment, still impaled by his cock and trying your best to keep from wiggling impatiently, before returning to Thoma’s face.

“Thoma,” he begins conversationally, and Thoma’s heart begins to pound, ribs rattling with the force. “Would you like a turn? I think it’s awfully selfish of me to keep her all to myself tonight, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m sorry?” Thoma sputters as the question tangles on his tongue, eyes blinking rapidly with incredulity, head nudged forward as if he’s sure he’s just misheard his lord.

“I’m asking if you’d like to fuck her,” Ayato chuckles—a patronizing little sound that plays at the back of his throat, as if Thoma’s uncertainty is so cute—and Thoma flinches. It’s always so jarring to hear such a vile curse fall from the lips of such an elegant man.

“I—No, no, my lord, I could never, she—she’s yours, and—”

“You are, by all accounts, our guest this evening. I have invited you to stay, and I think it’d be rude of me not to offer you a turn,” he explains. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable with it,” Ayato adds at Thoma’s hesitance. “I am merely extending the invitation, should you wish to take it. But if you are content with just watching, that is perfectly fine, too.”

“I...Want to,” he slowly exhales the confession from his mouth after a stretch of ringing silence, eyes finding yours. “But...I—Is it alright?”

Mutely, you look towards your Daddy, something akin to distress saturating your features. Ayato frowns, shaking his head a little, and your lips mimic his own, eyebrows raising with incentive.

“Show her your cock,” Ayato demands after a moment of unspoken conversation.

The order startles Thoma, and he coughs around his response. “I, um—”

“Go on,” Ayato urges gently, violet eyes kind and trusting, disarming, that terrifying twinkle Ayato had never dared to turn on Thoma before tonight now replaced with that comforting familiarity his direct commands bring. “Show her your cock, and I promise you, she’ll say yes.”

It’s an odd request, and Thoma doesn’t fully understand it’s implications, but he obeys anyway.

Nodding to himself, Thoma shuffles closer to you, trembling hands fumbling with the waistband of his pants, gracelessly shoving at it until it yields, allowing his cock to spring free.

It glistens in the dim glow of the lamplight, head smeared with precum and steadily drooling out pearlets, shaft pretty and pink and oh-so-perfect. You murmur something, soft and awe-stricken, and Thoma’s gaze snaps to your face.

“Hmm?”

“I said it’s really pretty,” you repeat, seemingly captivated, fingers flexing, as if you wish to touch. “It’s almost as pretty as Daddy’s.”

“Oh! Uh,” heat crawls up the back of his neck and he resists the urge to scratch at it, forcing his eyes to stay trained on your profile. “Thanks,”

“You like it, baby?” Ayato coos, brushing back a few strands of sweat-soaked hair from your temple. “You want it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, gazing up at Ayato before shifting your stare to Thoma, head nodding in dreamy little movements. “Yes, please.”

“Are you sure?” Thoma asks for what seems like the umpteenth time tonight, powerless to keep the question from leaving his mouth, urgently requiring that explicit confirmation that this is real, that this is happening.

“Yeah,” you stare up at him with shimmering eyes, tongue sucking your bottom lip between your teeth and speaking around it. “Please, can I have it?”

Thoma’s body is moving the moment the bashful request tumbles from your lips, body gracefully replacing Ayato’s—who resigns himself to sitting near your head—and hips finding a snug place between your spread thighs, his cock bobbing with enthusiasm.

“So polite, my darling,” Ayato murmurs, and while the timbre in his voice is mocking, his eyes are soft, the pads of his fingertips trailing along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

A quiet noise of contentment vibrates at the back of your throat, and you lean into your Daddy’s touch, gaze filled to the brim with adoration, begging for more of his sugary approval.

The moment feels too intimate, and Thoma averts his eyes. The head of his cock bumps against your cute little hole a second later, selfishly drawing your attention back to him, and you whine a little, hips twitching downward in desperation.

“She hasn’t been allowed to cum on a cock in a while,” Ayato explains, still gazing at you with melted affection in his eyes, palm stroking your damp forehead. “I’m quite sure she’s exceptionally excited to have you inside her,”

For a moment, such a thought instils in Thoma a bold confidence, sparks of it zipping up his spine, straightening each vertebra as they pass.

But they fizzle just as fast as they ignited, leaving behind a special type of terror, an icy dread that seeps into his bones and submerges his brain.

What if he isn’t good enough?

While his cock is considerably thick—possibly slightly thicker than what you’re used to—he definitely isn’t as big as Ayato. Will he even be able to satisfy you at all, or will he only leave you with the sourness of disappointment and regret? Is he merely here to make an utter fool of himself by cumming so hard, so fast it’s piteous? It’s been an embarrassingly long time since the last time he’s had sex, what if—

“Thoma? What are you waiting for?”

Ayato’s voice yanks him from the snare of his own thoughts once again, his eyes flashing to his superior, worry written into the creases of his forehead. Frowning, Ayato blinks twice, imploring him to speak what’s currently infecting his mind.

“What’s wrong?”

And, oh, it’s so fucking embarrassing to have to say it aloud, to admit to all of his timorous thoughts of being wholly inadequate, eyes downcast as he mumbles out his concerns.

Unsurprisingly, Ayato laughs—something that isn’t quite nice, but isn’t quite mean, either, like candied condescension—and leans forward to clap a reassuring hand on Thoma’s shoulder.

“That is entirely okay,” he says, and Thoma’s brow furrows. “She doesn’t have to cum. You can just use her, if you’d like; she’d be happy with that, too,” he pauses, violet eyes flitting to your own and eliciting an obedient nod, as if to prove his point. “And then I’ll take care of the rest. Just enjoy yourself, Thoma.”

”But...But I—” Thoma’s nose wrinkles in distaste, and Ayato’s frown deepens. Reaching out, he takes the younger man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it up to face him and holding it firmly in place.

Outwardly, Ayato appears as calm as the smooth, cool surface of an ice-glazed lake, but Thoma knows better. Thoma can see the impatience, the irritation, beginning to simmer just beneath that layer of polished frost; the blazing periwinkle that demands Thoma spit it out already, the infinitesimal flexing of his jaw, methodically pulsing in time with his even breaths; one, two, three, tense, hold, relax, one, two, three.

Clearing his throat, Thoma continues, ignoring the slight tremor sewn into his voice. “But I want to satisfy her, my lord.”

It’s hard not to grimace as the confession hangs thickly in the air between them, Ayato’s eyes clouding over with something undecipherable, something Thoma’s never experienced before. The look makes his skin crawl, little spikes of sweat erupting from his pores as he’s forced to hold his superior’s scalding gaze.

“Alright,” Ayato says after a moment of consideration, finally releasing Thoma’s chin. “I’ll show you how, briefly, and then we can get on with this. Sound reasonable?”

Thoma’s head is nodding, but Ayato doesn’t wait for an answer, moving towards the slighter man and taking Thoma’s hand between his large one, palm molding to the back as he pushes two of Thoma’s fingers down.

“It doesn’t take much,” Ayato’s saying, voice turned professional as he wraps his own fingers over Thoma’s folded ones, bringing their mess of hands to your fluttering cunt and beginning to insert them.

“Daddy!” you gasp, eyes squeezing shut as your delicate flesh yields to the four fingers.

Ignoring you, Ayato continues in the same matter-of-fact lilt. “Her favourite spot is right here,” he curls his fingers, forcing Thoma’s to curl in conjunction, pressing their knuckles into a rough, swollen patch of tissue.

A loud, sharp cry rips itself from your chest, eyes springing open only to fall shut again as Ayato massages the spot, your hips instinctually grinding downward, desperate for more.

“If you can, try to rub your cock against it, like this,” Ayato folds their fingers halfway, forcing them to dig into your silky walls and move in long, slow strokes, each pass over that spot sending a borderline violent shudder rippling through your body.

“It’s very sensitive.” Ayato nudges the spot once more—a demonstration of sorts—before gently removing their fingers. “I trust that now that you know it’s location, you’ll have no trouble angling your hips to ensure your cockhead hits it, yes?”

If he doesn’t cum in the first ten seconds, maybe.

He has several additional questions—what type of thrusts do you enjoy most? Is there a particular pace you like the best?—but Ayato is done teaching.

You seem to be getting restless, too, Thoma’s name falling from your lips in the sweetest little whimpers. “Thoma, Thoma, please, give me your cock, please,”

You sound so fucking needy, almost bordering on bratty as you reach for him, hips wiggling, thighs straining as they spread wider. Cavernous pupils shine in the low light, eyes glazed over with sugared desire and half-lidded with lust.

And finally, finally, Thoma snaps.

His body’s moving before he’s even made the conscious decision to, primal instinct surging through his blood, overwhelming his body and overriding his mind, and he growls, using his sharp hips to keep your thighs spread wide.

It’s all automatic impulse now, rational thought drowned by animalistic urges and sheer desire, that burning need he had been so desperately attempting to suppress, to control, finally erupting, flames of it burning through his veins, incinerating all previous trepidation.

And then he’s shoving his cock into you, moaning at the way your flesh yields to him, submits to him, opens up for him, stretching and splitting to accommodate his girth.

Just one swift, sharp thrust is all it takes to have him buried to the hilt, cockhead pressed snugly against your sensitive cervix. His hips shove forward further, knocking a gasp from your throat, cockhead grinding in slow, hard circles against the mound of tissue.

“Th-Thoma!” you nearly wheeze, little fingers tangling in the cotton of his t-shirt, nails piercing through the thin material and leaving fine, ragged lines of red in the muscles of his back. “Hurts!”

“Oh, you can take it,” Ayato chastises lightly, speaking over the deep growl rumbling in Thoma’s chest. It’s incredible, how calm his lord sounds, how entirely unaffected he seems to be, tone kept conversational, as if none of this matters in the slightest.

But Thoma’s barely listening; Thoma barely cares at this point, ears buzzing and vision blurred by pure lust, this insatiable craving he had tried so hard to deny, to erase, to restrain, so fierce it has dulled all of his senses to anything other than you.

Leaning back slightly, he hooks a hand under each of your knees and pushes up, up, up until your knees nudge your shoulders, legs folded up on either side of your body.

“Be a—Be a good girl and hold yourself open for me, yeah?”

It’s supposed to be an instruction, a demand, but it comes out whiny and full of yearning, voice already wrecked and mangled in his throat. If he were in his right mind, he’d be horrified by how eager, how utterly desperate he sounds. Yet he doesn’t pay it any mind at all, the breathy plead that practically dribbled from his lips like dollops of thick honey, too focused on fucking you for it to be of any importance.

With a singular, shaky exhale, his hips draw back, slow and steady, the smooth sculpted muscles in his arms flexing with the strain as he hovers above you, stilling for just a moment before he’s fucking back into you, his thrust harsh enough to send your entire body skidding against the wood beneath you, setting a ruthless pace from the start.

Each pound of his hips is more brutal than the last, each ramming fractured sobs and pitched mewls of his name from your chest, each forceful enough to shove Ayato’s heavy desk a few inches forward with every plunge into you, mahogany wood scraping against the floorboards.

It must be hurtful for you, each slam of his cockhead against your cervix, each drag of his shaft against that spot, your features twisted in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure; eyebrows scrunched and eyes squeezed shut, mouth lolling open and tongue flopping about, lips slicked sheen with spit, drool oozing from the corners of your mouth to drip in viscous beads along your jaw.

It’s fucking beautiful, the most immaculate piece of art Thoma has ever witnessed, experienced, had a hand in creating.

“You like that, huh?” he’s nearly spitting at you, words sandwiched between ragged pants. “It’s good?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re chanting, head nodding in quick little motions as your eyes drift back, eyelashes fluttering prettily.

“Tell me,” he keens, voice shattered by his razored breaths. “Tell me how much you like my cock,”

And although his tone borders on begging, his eyes are sharp and blazing with ardor, his chest heaving with exertion, strands of golden hair saturated in sweat and clinging to his forehead, his temples, his neck.  

“Your cock is so good, Thoma,” you nearly wail. “I love it—I-I love it s’much!”

A groan vibrates in his chest, his eyes shutting tightly before springing open again, shuddering out a breathy little, “Yeah?” in time with the next drive forward of his hips.

“Uh—Uh-huh, so big, fills me up so good, can feel you in my tummy, Thoma,”

The resulting whine that catches in his throat, pitched high and desperate, is absolutely pathetic—though you don’t seem to think so, cute little cunt pulsing around his cock in response.

“Lemme feel, baby—ah, fuck—lemme feel,”

A large hand splays itself on your gut, his hips never once faltering as he presses down, a loud cry falling from his lips as the tip of his cock nudges his palm through your flesh.

“God,” he breathes. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your dainty hand lays itself atop of his, soft palm pressing down harder, forcing him to feel the bulge of his cock buried inside of you again, a choked moan strangling itself in his throat as the arm supporting his weight begins to quiver.

He can tell that you’re getting close now, whole body beginning to tremble beneath his own, little fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you force yourself open wider for him.

Ayato can tell, too.

“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?” he asks, the pet name drenched in saccharine condescension. “Are you going to show Thoma how very pretty you look, creaming all over his cock?”

You can barely speak, too fucked out to manage anything other than the stammered stream of Yes, Daddy’s and Can I, please Daddy?’s flowing steadily from your mouth.

Ayato gives you his murmured permission—a gentle Go ahead, princess—and then you’re complying, convulsing cunt gushing all over Thoma’s cock, a tangle of his name and your Daddy’s jumbled on your tongue, a mess of letters so intertwined that they’ve become one unintelligible word.

“Good girl,” Ayato breathes, and that’s the first time Thoma has heard him sound affected by anything all night.

Thoma’s thrusts are getting sloppy now, devolved into frantic and uneven jackhammering that gains more speed with each snap forward, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your veins, vibrations spiking with each pump of his hips.

He can feel his own orgasm simmering in the pit of his stomach, rising higher and higher with every weak throb of your over-sensitive cunt, growing hotter and hotter with every noise he manages to fuck out of you until it’s finally boiling over, up his throat and out his mouth and—

“Oh, oh god, oh, Aya—my lord, I—I’m gonna—Can I—Can I—” And, truthfully, Thoma isn’t sure whether he’s asking if he can cum, or if he can cum inside his master’s favourite plaything.

But he doesn’t have to decide; Ayato does that for him.

Humming in contemplation, amethyst eyes shift from Thoma to you, Ayato’s head tilting slightly. “Would you like his cum, princess?”

Your response is immediate, bleary eyes snapping to Ayato’s face, head nodding enthusiastically. “Oh gosh, Daddy, yes, yes, I want his cum, yes!”

“F-Fuck,” Thoma whimpers, hips stuttering with the shudder of his breath.

“You can cum inside, Thoma,” Ayato grants him permission, voice soft as a silk blanket that envelopes him, caressing his cheek as it drapes itself across his shoulders—a warm, familiar embrace of encouragement, of praise, of approval.

“Th-Thank you, my lord,”

“I want it, Thoma,” you’re whimpering beneath him, blinking up at him with filmy eyes, words drowning in muddled pools of spit collecting in the dips and crevices of your mouth. “I want it, I-I want it, give it to me,”

“Greedy girl,” Ayato scolds with a disapproving click of his tongue, demeanour changed in an instant. “Ask nicely,”

Turning your glassy gaze back on Thoma, you stare up at him like he’s some sort of fucking god, eyes glistening with potent want, an indescribable craving that manifests as pleads spilling from your mouth.

“Thoma, Thoma, please give me your cum, please, fill me up with it, stuff me full of it, I want it so bad, Thoma, pretty please!” you practically cough out, the sentiment fractured by hiccups and gurgled together at the back of your throat, words flowing in one continuous sob.

It’s so fucking hot, so fucking wrong, so fucking delicious, and the whine that claws it’s way past his lips and rips through his gasping breaths is nothing short of gorgeous, pitched high and cracked with pleasure, with desire.

“Give my princess what she wants, Thoma,” Ayato says, and although it’s phrased as a statement, it’s clearly an order, and Thoma’s good at following those.

Three more pistons of his hips and he’s obeying his master. It’s vicious, the shudder that tears through Thoma’s body as his cock throbs, filling you to the brim with scalding, thick cum, so much so that it’s begun to leak out of your cunt, smeared all over Thoma’s cock and your inner thighs, pearly glops of it drooling down your ass to collect in a puddle on Ayato’s desk.

Black darkens the edges of his vision, a pair of strong hands catching him just before he collapses on top of you, Ayato leaning Thoma against his chest, his cheek snug against the crook of his lord’s neck, exhaling uneven little pants of breath against his skin.

Everything feels hazy, like time has slowed, seconds dripping by as if they were hours, the gentle, repetitive rhythm of Ayato’s fingers through Thoma’s hair keeping him grounded in this reality.

“Come here, baby,” Ayato murmurs, holding his free arm out towards you and inviting you to crawl sluggishly towards him. You allow yourself to be wrapped up in your Daddy’s embrace, head finding purchase on Thoma’s damp chest, clinging to the both of them.

“You did so well,” Ayato whispers, punctuating his praise with chaste kisses to the crown of your head. “You both did so well, I’m so proud of you. You were both so good for me.”

And, well, all either of you ever want to be is good for him.

#thoma x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #thoma smut #kamisato ayato smut #ayato smut #eeeeee i hope this works!! #i figured it would be good to have it here as well #tw:daddy kink #tw:dubcon #tw:toxic relationship #tw:size kink #tw:degradation

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Kinky thought: CNC/Primal with Alcina. In which you're tasked to hide in the castle, and try to escape from her as long as you can.

If you manage to evade her for 2 hours, you get a wish.

If she catches you... You're hers.

I have FINALLY finished this predator/prey Alcina prompt that I've been working on since OCTOBER 🤣 .. I originally just planned on it being a little snippet.. but welp.. 3,000 words later and here we are 😅 I do hope some of you enjoy it! ❤️

Trigger warnings for: degradation, spanking and blood drinking.

***

You weren’t even sure how many minutes had passed - of how many beats your heart had inadvertently taken to count the seconds. Your body, flushed - frozen behind a bookcase at the far corner of the library as you tried to catch your breath. The Countess had almost caught up to you in the Gardens - letting out a scream of frustration when you gave her the slip - but the vast room filled with more books than you could ever dare to read had remained supremely silent since you entered it.

A little too quiet.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as your Mistress' words rolled over you.. "Manage to evade me for two hours, pet, and you’ll earn your reward. Any you like. But, if I catch you…" She paused knowingly, a dark smirk across crimson lips and a daring glow to her eyes, ".. you’re mine."

You remembered how you shuddered and the look of satisfaction it gave her. And even though you were just as happy to be on the losing end of the deal, the thought of a reward of your choosing was something you had spent thinking about extensively since the game had begun.

The only question was, what?

Deeming it better to keep moving, you were just about to move from your spot when you heard a creak. The type of creak that only a very large woman in a very old castle could make.

“There’s no use in hiding, pet. I could smell you as soon as I opened the door."

Welp.

You cursed under your breath, trying to make yourself as flat against the bookcase as possible. Though, you weren’t sure if you were ready to give in to her just yet. Technically, she hadn’t caught you until you were defenseless and panting in her hands with no other options. A thought, needless to say, that brought an immediate pulse to your core.

You took a deep breath before scanning the dark library, smirking as your eyes fell upon the small door directly to your left that would lead you straight through her atelier. Granted, this wasn't a room you were normally allowed to enter, but if you were likely going to be punished either way, might as well make the best of it.

A wholly satisfying growl, one that skipped through the air when she found the bookcase empty, brought an impish little chuckle to your lips. Your focus intent as you made your way through the unfamiliar room, filled with unfinished paintings and the smell of drying paint.

"IWILLfind you, pet. Mark my words!"

You gulped subconsciously, your heart and feet both picking up their pace as you hurried through the dark - only a few wisps of moonlight to light your way. Had she figured out which way you went? Could she hear the profound beating in your chest? The sound of heavy footsteps growing louder only confirmed your fears, forcing you to choose one of the three doors in front of you and hope it didn't lead you to a dead end.

"Fuck." You muttered to yourself, finding the first door to be nothing more than a closet. You had to wonder if the Lady had built this castle like a maze on purpose - a catacomb of sorts designed to confuse your senses. A loud creak from behind made you jump, cutting your thoughts short as the Countess' large frame entered the room.

"Mh.. foolish enough to enter my inner sanctum without my permission, are we? Or maybe just desperate? Hm?"

The dark smirk that coated her slightly degrading words only fueled the tightness in your chest and the pulsing heat between your legs. You cursed again, quickly exiting the closet and immediately taking the door to the right of it. An exhale of relief escaping your lips as soon as it opened up into a large hallway.

Which hallway, though, and where it led to was the question.

The faint smell of fresh pastries and evening tea meant that the kitchens, though located on the floor below you, weren't too far off. But in which direction they were - that, you had no idea. Making a rash decision you swiftly turned to the left and ran, the velvet rug beneath your feet not doing nearly enough to mask the sounds of your footsteps. You knew she could hear every sound you made. That your Mistress was reveling in each accelerated beat of your heart and the blood that flowed quickly through your veins.

The loud thud of the door that led to the atelier the only warning you got before her voice spoke out again into the dark - the muffled sound of a clock striking midnight in the distance.

Wait … did that mean... had you actually-?

"Seems we meet again, little mouse."

This time you cursed loud enough to make her chuckle, swallowing hard when the hallway brought to you nothing more than a dead end and a marble statue of a much younger Countess. The scent of your Lady encasing you with each step that she took - slow and steady, like a predator rounding it's prey.

Before you even had a chance to respond, to point out the time or try to run, the Countess slung you over her shoulder with ease and made her way back down the hallway.

The castle was quieter than usual - eerie. Basked in a pallid moonlight and the type of chill that only came with cold Romanian nights. The inviting sound of firewood crackling and a warm glow peeking out from within your Lady's chambers greeted you as soon as you reached her door.

A door that sat directly at the end of the very hallway you had fled onto.

“Mh.. if only you had chosen to go right, pet.”

You snorted. “And what? You’d be the one over my shoulder instead right now?”

At this she laughed, loud and deep. The stagnant smell of cigarettes and wine wafting over you.

“Touché’.”

The velocity in which the mood shifted as soon as the two of you entered the room could have rivaled the speed in which she had you on your back. Your body hitting the bed with such force that it sent your surroundings spinning. A sleek blur of candlelight and crimson.

Though she gave you a moment to get your bearings, when the Countess spoke she left no room for any debates.

“Undress.”

You shivered at her tone, allowing the reaction to roll over you like tepid water. Alcina’s large frame pausing to loom over you before she started to undress, herself. The bottom of her dress tented in such a way that your eyes could do nothing but watch how the fabric flowed around her - a bulging promise of everything you wanted. Your breath catching when the full length of her womanhood finally became exposed, twitching slightly in the firelight.

You had barely even begun on your own clothing before her hand was around your throat, lifting you from the bed while blackened claws sharply grew from the other.

“I said, ‘undress” Words spoken through clenched teeth as her claws sliced through the front of your uniform, swiftly discarding the simple cloth from your body.

You swallowed against the palm of her hand, struggling to speak against the pressure of it.

“S-sorry, Mistress.”

The Lady only hummed before tossing you back onto the bed, your hand quickly coming to rub the now tender flesh of your neck. And while the Countess knew she always had your consent - that she could use you however she wanted and you’d enjoy every second of it - the dangerous gleam that currently resided in her eyes had a much sharper edge to it than usual.

The chase of the hunt clearly having an effect on her.

“Chasing your exquisite scent throughout the castle like that, pet.." Alcina paused, growling before taking a deep breath and shuddering. ".. you couldn’t possibly understand what that does to me.”

She leaned down, tracing a single claw down the front of your sternum - the cold tip of it just barely making an indent in your skin. And even with her touch feather light - completely controlled - her body caged you in like the predator you knew she was. Her eyes dilating effortlessly at the sight of you under her.

You swallowed, locking your gaze onto hers.

"Y-you.. you could always show me." You replied, extending your neck. A fierce blush across your cheeks.

"Mh.. could I now? Is that what my needy pet wishes?"

You blushed even harder, averting your eyes for a second until her words brought you back.

"Answer me."

"Yes, Mistress."

The only response she gave you was an arousing, deep growl and the strength of her body pinning you down. A dark chuckle across her lips as you squirmed when her tongue licked over your pulse point, as if to ready it.

"I can already taste how much you want this. Little slut."

You let out an embarrassingly loud whimper but you didn't care. Your hands coming to her shoulders as you prepared yourself, your body all too eager for the euphoria that was about to sweep over it.

"Please, Mistress."

Another growl across your skin, this one rolling over you like thunder and pulling a fevered heat to your core. Clawed fingers holding the side of your head down as the Countess exposed even more of your neck and shoulders to herself. A soft moan escaping from her lips as she breathed in your scent, pausing for only a moment before her teeth were sinking in. The cool, sharp tips of her fangs an arousing contrast to the overly flushed skin that they pierced.

"F-fuck." You gasped, your hold on her tightening.

"Mmmh."

Alcina drank from you fervently - frenzied - as if yours was the most divine taste in the world and she had been denied of it for far too long. Each pull from your neck forcing waves of euphoria to wash over you - a delicious ebb and flow of desire.

You could feel your surroundings begin to shift as she fed. Hazing over in a delirious splendor. Your small whimpers becoming slightly fainter until Alcina's grasp finally loosened. Drops of crimson coating her lips and trickling down her chin.

"Delicious." The Lady purred, the length of her tongue licking the slowly drying blood from her mouth.

You swore her voice had never sounded quite so arousing, aged like a fine wine and even huskier than usual. And though the Countess had had more than her fill of you, the look in her eyes glowed in nothing but her insatiable hunger for more - in her utter need to flip you on all fours and have her way with you.

Which is exactly what she did…

Spinning the world on it's axis and leaving your body to feel nothing but absolute weightlessness until your hands and knees hit the soft satin sheets of her bed. The measure of your arousal already coating your inner thighs as she spread them wide open for her, breathing in your musk.

"Little slut.. just look at how wet you are. I take it you've enjoyed this little game of ours, hm?"

You shuddered at her words, at her warm breath that trickled down your neck like water. A hard slap coming to your backside at your pause.

"Answer me, whore."

"Mmph-! Yes, Mistress."

"Mh."

You yelped when her claws lengthened a little more, seeping into the supple flesh of your hips. The large woman settling on her knees behind you, her firm cock already teasing your entrance as she adjusted her stance.

"And such a naughty pet for trying to hide from me."

Another hard slap to your backside, forcing you to cry out.

"Ah-! Yes, Mistress."

"One would think you like to be punished. To be treated like the whore that you are."

Another slap, one that made your whole body fill with heat.

Her words were like sweet venom. Coated in a bitter tongue and fueling the want between your legs. Your only response was to lengthen your hips back, to force her womanhood down the slit of you in a desperate attempt for more. An act that earned a displeased click from your Lady's tongue and another lash to your backside.

"Needy slut."

"Yes, Mistress.Yourneedy slut."

The Countess growled at your admittal, at her claim over you. A dark smirk coating her lips as she leaned down, allowing her teeth to tease over your neck once before her breath found your ear.

"That's right, pet..all mine.."

Alcina grasped your hips in such a manner that it made you gasp outright. It was rough - with intent. The firm tip of her cock completely still against your entrance, taunting you until her steady movements started a slow stretch.

So slow it made you curse.. almost slow enough to drive you mad. An unbridled heat spilling over you the further she stretched you.. the deeper it slid in.

Though not deep enough.. not with how needy you were.

Your body seemed to act on it's own, your hips bucking back without a second thought, pulling a deep moan when she filled you.

And another with her hand came down hard on your back side.

"Too needy to behave, are we?"

You weren't even sure when her fingers grasped onto your hair, but the firm manner in which she pulled you back only made you wetter.

"Mh-! Y-yes, Mistress."

You expected another spank, readying yourself for an impact that never came. The Lady, instead, stood completely still. A dangerous glint to her eyes as she slowly straightened her posture. The sheer size of her casting you in a dark shadow.

"Mh.. seems a lesson in patience may be in order then."

Patience.. lessons in patience were never a good thing. They almost always meant denial.. in some way shape or form. Denial.. teasing.. waiting. Being brought to the brink of madness with nothing but absolute want. You cursed under your breath making the Lady chuckle. Her body still as water and just as calm.

"Glad we understand each other. It's been too long, I think, since you last warmed my cock. Impatient little slut."

Gods, it had only been minutes and how you already ached, your core clenching around the width of her as if trying to coax it. Of course it didn't, though.. your Lady was a lot of things, but weak willed wasn't one of them. Even with all the pent up ferality that flowed through her veins - the Countess held her reserve much like the noble that she was. And every second that passed was filled with the nagging throb of desperation.

"Fuck! Please, Mistress. Please."

"Mmh.. so quick to beg."

It was immediately clear to you by the icy tone in her voice that the Lady could go either way. Either letting herself go and wholly wrecking you, or keeping you right where you were until you were driven completely mad with need.

The seconds that passed between the words she spoke and the first thrust she gifted you felt like an eternity. Your body falling forward at the pleasure immediately surging through you. Simultaneously grateful and greedy for more. Only this time, you didn't dare step out of line - no matter how badly your hips wanted to jerk, to slap back firmly and force as much of her cock into your aching core as possible.

Another hard slap across your ass before Alcina did the job for you, grabbing onto your waist and pulling you back with such force that stars swiftly clouded your eyes.

"You like that, whore, don't you?"

"F-fuck.. yes.. yes, Mistress."

The way the Countess growled in response sent a shiver down your spine. Her claws digging into your sides as the length of her drove in and out of you, stretching you exquisitely with each thrust. She was relentless in her movements - calculated even with the primal energy that seemed to flow through her. Every muscle in her body flexing as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

And when her teeth found the tender flesh of your shoulder it was all you could do to cry out, to dig your fingers into her sheets and bite down onto your bottom lip in any attempt to muffle yourself.

This, of course, only made Alcina bite down harder.

"None of that, now. It'd do you well to let your Mistress hear you." She growled.

Words as sharp as the fangs that sunk into you, the warm feeling of crimson trickling down your shoulder and neck.

"Ah-! Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress."

Each thrust marched perfectly with another mark across your skin, each one pulling a deeper and more desperate moan from your lips. Her cock harder than you'd ever felt it, burying deeper inside of you than it'd ever been. Thick desire running down your inner thighs and coating the Lady's stomach and thighs - her pace proving merciless.

The moment her finger found your clit, you knew you were done for. One tight circle followed by another. Her breath warm against your ear, a single shudder as her tongue traced over it.

"Go ahead and come for me, slut."

"F-fuck-!"

A prickling heat crawling across you with such intensity that your whole body shuddered. Each movement over your clit, each thrust of her cock compelling wave after wave of pleasure to crash over you. The length of her starting to twitch inside of you as your core clenched, pulling a deep and husky moan from Acina's lips as her own arousal spilled out into you - filling you completely and dripping down onto her red satin sheets.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur, with the all too empty feeling of you Lady slipping out of you and the soft mattress that your body fell breathless onto. The Countess' large frame behind your own, pulling you close before she placed a soft kiss to your temple.

"You did so well, pet."

"Mmh.. thank you, my lady."

She wrapped her arms around you, kissing your cheek this time.

"Now.. about that reward."

Your eyes opened abruptly. "R-reward?"

Alcina chuckled, smirking as she caressed your cheek.

"Oh, pet.. I was well aware of how much time had passed when I caught you."

You stared at her for a moment before chucking yourself.

"Cheater."

"Mh.. you liked it."

"I admit nothing, and that's besides the point."

The Lady chuckled again, pulling you a little closer.

"Sleep now, pet. I'll be expecting your request by the morning."

"Mh.. yes, Mistress."

You felt the soft curl of a smirk against the skin of your neck, the steady beat of her heart on your back. Sensations that only pulled you off into a warm slumber as your body's exhaustion finally took over.

#depravity answered #anonynous #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina x reader #alcina x reader #resident evil fanfiction #re8 fanfiction #my fics #i had a lot of fun writing this one so ahem #i hope you all enjoy 👀 #tw:degradation #tw:blood drinking #tw:spanking

[iconographic-propaganda]

"𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲"

The Body is a grim fixture, a constant in the back of the mind.

A thing to break down with complete certainty, infinitely complex.

We innately no nothing of it's mechanic, yet it functions.

A building- It's supports the same material as the walls, the windows the same as the door.

All feeling, all fragile- all endlessly complex, interwoven, operating to near perfection.

Until it doesn't.

You are a sovereign king of endless, things beyond total comprehension- resting within you are features and fixtures so mind numbingly infinite it has taken the combined lifetime of millions, all humanity’s knowledge compressed together for this small foothold of understanding.

...

It is, arguably not you- The self is hidden within, somewhere- but you have no exertion of will.

You can move, you can flex- You can blink, choose to see, shut things out- walk, talk, and think... Things easily ripped away.

Everything else is automatic, instinctual- it is not you, it is the body acting it's own.

#art #artwork #photoshop #tw:degradation #tw:organs #writing #horrorofself

[inkyclive]

⇀ tags + warnings!

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

#𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬  ⋆ me chattering on to myself ehehe

#𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 ⋆ any ask i answer!

#𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲.𝐛𝐛 ⋆ anon asks!

#𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋆ any post that updates you on what i’ve been doing!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

common triggering topics you may come across on my blog include (but are not limited to):

—𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

dubcon/noncon ⋆ #tw:dubcon, tw:noncon

somnophilia ⋆ #tw:somnophilia

dacryphilia ⋆ #tw:dacryphilia

degradation/dumbification ⋆ #tw:degradation, #tw:dumbification

daddy kink (sometimes with a ddlg type dynamic (aka a condescending caregiver type vibe) ⋆ #tw:daddy kink

spanking ⋆ #tw:spanking

marking (bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites) ⋆ #tw:marking

size kink/size difference ⋆ #tw:size kink

rough sex ⋆ #tw:rough sex

minimal prep ⋆ #tw:minimal prep

—𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

murder ⋆ #tw:murder

yandere ⋆ #tw:yandere

toxic relationships (manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, patronization/condescension, extreme control, etc) ⋆ #tw:toxic relationship

age gaps between consenting adults ⋆ #tw:age gap

pseudocest (aka incest between adopted siblings, big brother x little sister ONLY) ⋆ #tw:pseudocest

organized crime ⋆ #tw:organized crime

drugs/drug addiction ⋆ #tw:drugs

cheating ⋆ #tw:cheating

blood ⋆ #tw:blood

if any of the topics mentioned above make you uncomfortable or upset, please filter the appropriate tags or block me! your safety and enjoyment should be of utmost concern, and it is your responsibility to curate your online space and online experience accordingly. stay safe <3

with that being said, here is a list of 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:

anal | pegging | ass eating

femdom | mommy kink | dom reader

pedophilia | underage

beastiality

pet play | hybrids

age play

lactation

water sports | scat | vomit

eating disorders

vore

full blood incest | any incest that isn’t big bro x lil sis (dad x daughter, uncle x niece, etc)

[dearbraus]

— Pussy Talk

Starring; Various Haikyuu Characters.

Warnings; 18+ minors dni + afab reader + dom/sub dynamics + petplay + light degradation (teasing name calling) + daddy kink + roleplay + foot riding + oral (reader receiving) + use of nicknames; bunny, puppy, kitty.

Wordcount; 0.5k

Note; An edited repost from my old blog, i didn’t realize i wrote two very similar sets of headcanons and decided to switch the princess sections of this and replace them with the names i used in my other set of headcanons >:) Both are up on my ao3 under the same name. Enjoy <3

Networks: @planetonet​

The names they call your pussy —

꒰ Puppy parts ꒱

He’s got you in a collar, a leash attached to it, tightly curled in the palm of his hand. The word drips off his lips like the sweetest ichor as he coos at you, laughing at how desperate his lil’ puppy is. It’s a wonderful sight, he delights in, because only he can get you so worked up.

“Whining isn’t going to get you anywhere sweetheart so try and relax and let me get a good look at your sweet puppy parts.”

⊱ Iwaizumi Haijime, Sawamura Daichi, Hinata Shōyō, Meian Shūgo, and Matsukawa Issei.

꒰ Bunny cunt ꒱

He’s got your legs tossed over his lap, a mirror propped up on the foot end of the bed so you get a good look of the mess he’s about to make of you. His fingers are pressed against your soiled panties, preening at your cute drooling cunt. You were always so receptive of his touches, he had barely even played with you and yet, you were so wet.

“Who knew my baby was such a slut, heh, ruining the shorts I let you borrow when I’ve hardly even touched you. Better clean these up while I play with your pretty bunny cunt.”

⊱ Oikawa Tōru, Konoha Akinori, Bokuto Kōtarō, Suna Rintarō, Aran Ojiro, and Yaku Morisuke.

꒰ Kitty Cunt ꒱

The tip of his boot presses against your throbbing pussy, a haughty laugh escaping him as you squirm. You really should have known better than to bother him while they were working, now you’ll have to make do with his shoe. But that’s just what you wanted, anticipation coursing through your veins as he prattled on. The feigned role of a cruel master a lovely mirage as the two of you played.

“Oh does that feel good, my love? You like it when daddy presses his foot against your kitten cunt? ‘Course you would, filthy thing.”

⊱ Shinsuke Kita, Ukai Keishin, Semi Eita, Kyōtani Kentarō, Futakuchi Kenji, and Kiyoomi Sakusa.

꒰ Mine ꒱

He’s drunk on the taste of your cunt, moaning against your clit as he laps up your juices, muttering the word over and over again. He can’t help it, all he can think about is how much he loves your cunt, so enamoured with the way it looks split on his cock. He’d spend an eternity trapped within the four walls of his house if it meant he could live between your thighs, kissing and sucking on your sweet pussy.

“How lucky am I, god, this pretty little thing is mine, all mine. All wet for me too, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of my perfect pussy.”

⊱ Miya Osamu, Sugawara Kōshi, Kozume Kenma, Azumane Asahi, Moniwa Kaname, and Tsukishima Kei.

꒰ Angel Cunt ꒱

His head is tipped back, eyes pressed shut as he thrusts into you. The feel of your velvet walls pulsing around him heavenly, he thinks he’ll soon lose his mind because he’s grown addicted to you. Unabasedly moaning, the kiss he leaves on the corner of your mouth is sloppy but he’s to pussy drunk to care.

“God, baby this angel cunt ‘o yours is heavenly. Hah, almost can’t believe it. You feel so fuckin’ good.”

⊱ Miya Atsumu, Kuroo Tetsurō, Akaashi Keiji, Goshiki Tsutomu, Kageyama Tobio, and Yamaguchi Tadashi.

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #atsumu miya smut #sakusa kiyoomi smut #kenma kozume smut #daichi sawamura smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kageyama tobio smut #hinata shoyo smut #tsukishima kei smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq thirst #akaashi keiji smut #oikawa toru smut #bokuto koutaro smut #tw afab reader #tw:petplay #tw:degradation #tw:daddy kink

[sightoru]

—𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐓𝐨 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

✩pairing: Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

✩genre: hurt/comfort, smut

✩word count: 8.1k

✩warnings: injury and blood (nothing gory), codependent relationship (but make it cute), reader is very lonely and says "i can fix you", praise kink, degradation, unprotected sex, dry humping/thigh riding, light hair pulling, face fucking, f!receiving oral,  hallucinations (dabi gets hit by a fear quirk), dabi burns reader on accident (again —because fear quirk, not with the intention of hurting her), dumbification, eating together, mentions and light descriptions of dabi's childhood abuse. dabi's kinda mean to reader at first, and does break into her apartment.

✩authors note: based off an ask from this anon, and credits to @stariwrites for the fear quirk idea. thanks to @jirou-s and @doinmybesthere for bein my beta readers <3

✩check out the art @kiyoobi drew for this fic here

✩title credit: C'mon by Panic At The Disco.

✩excerpt:

The typhoon is sitting between you on your couch, instead of raging inside. This silence is tense. Suffocating. Building between you two. There’s nowhere to go. No place to escape to. That’s okay, you decide quietly. You remember therapists who used uncomfortable silence to coax you to speak. Maybe that will work on him. Maybe it won’t.

The news reporters have been saying for the last few days to stay inside.

They’re calling this the “typhoon of the century”. You’re not sure who they are, but the words have been uttered under the breaths of so many people that you think no one really knows who they are. Nonetheless, food and water has been stocked for yourself and your cat for days now; your pantry is full of white, unscented candles in case the power goes out; and there’s plenty of ice in your freezer just in case the worst happens.

In your case, the worst tends to happen. But maybe by some miracle you will remain unscathed. Hope is always good to have, even if it’s false.

Some small part of you hoped that you’d get a letter from the Hero Commission. In times of impending disaster where there may be people injured, those who are registered to have healing quirks are called upon for extra help. Every season you wait for a letter, and every season it never comes. You’re never surprised by this; your quirk is weak. Only good for healing small cuts and bruises and overuse makes you horribly cold and starving. But it doesn’t stop the hurt from seeping in. From taking hold of your throat and laughing in your face.

Your quirk takes more energy for you to use it than what it’s worth.

It’s a painful truth that you’ve learned to live with. The ache of it is always there and remembering is akin to poking a bruise: the pain is forgotten until moments like these when you’re forced to remember. Your childhood dreams and hopes of helping people as a doctor slowly burned to ashes in front of you over the years, and all you have been left with is a shrine of everything you’ve wanted to be.

Your body is a temple of everything you’ve ever loved and lost. Your own expectation dismantles it with greedy hands. A lamb led to slaughter by fate, but the blood is soaked into your own hands.

It’s easier this way, you reason with yourself. Some days you’re even lucky enough to be able to convince yourself that you like it. You’re lucky to work from home. You’re lucky to have a sweet cat. You’re lucky to be able to live alone. You never want food or water or clothing. Everything you need is easy to attain, and you remember to consider yourself lucky every time you ever begin to yearn for more.

It’s simple. It’s quiet. Mundane. Some days it doesn’t bother you. A lot of days it does.

Maybe more isn’t something you’ve ever deserved. Maybe this is why you have an inadequate quirk, a lonely life with a cat as your only company and the highlight of your day is watching tv until your eyes are too heavy to keep them open. Maybe you did something wrong in a past life, and your punishment is a life full of nature documentaries and a lacking quirk.

You’re half asleep on your couch. You don’t work tomorrow. You’re glad, everyone would be calling in for cell phone help. The deep need to make sure loved ones are safe and okay. A feeling you’ve only seen in movies. Something that’s always been out of reach. Milo is curled behind your legs; a small orange ball of fluff with purrs that vibrate against your body. There’s an old horror film playing on the tv. Something classic, a man with a white mask and a large knife. A woman that screams theatrically when the man brandishes it before killing her. It doesn’t shock you. You’ve seen this movie plenty of times.

A crash from your bedroom wakes you up from your almost sleep. The sound of glass pummelling onto your floor is louder than the sound of the thunder raging outside; louder than the screams of the horror movie you’re watching. You’re frozen to your couch. Milo has run to some corner of the apartment — a wonderful companion yet an awful guardian—hiding from the source of the noise. You reason with yourself; try to tell yourself it's probably debris from the storm. High and fast winds that probably caused a rock or a small branch to break the window. You’re cautious when you stand regardless, knowing that you’re on your own if something happens to you.

You grab a spatula off your kitchen counter. Logically, you know this will do nothing against a person, but you have nothing else to grab and figure you’re probably being ridiculous anyways. There’s no one in your house, right?

Right?

But when you turn the corner and walk into your bedroom it’s not empty. There’s a man there. Between flashes of lighting you can see the way blood adornes his body like a shroud. You see the shape of him; long and lean and built like a panther with a mop of inky black hair. He doesn’t notice you at first. A long thin arm grabbing the other. He looks crumpled in your bedroom; like discarded paper. He’s hurt. You don’t need much light to see this; something about pain and injury that radiates off of him in waves. It’s almost suffocating to you. Being so near someone so hurt. Your palms itch with the need to help him.

The sound of your spatula dropping makes the man’s head snap towards you. You hear a gasp break from his throat before a sharp growl. You watch him step towards you, hands balled into fists as he moves. He looms over you, invading your space and making you feel warm. Too warm; heat radiates off him in waves. He’s like a small sun in your bedroom. Warm and bright despite the darkness of the room. You know you should be scared but all you feel is hypnotized by him; by the way water drops from his black hair and the purple scars covering half his face. Everything about him calls to you; the way his eyes flash when he sees you. Bright sapphire blue orbs with pupils so dilated that all that’s left is a thin ring of color.

The closer he gets to you the more his wounds stick out to you. “I could fix you!” you stammer, backing away slowly from him and raising your hands, showing him the white glow of your quirk activating; as if he’s an animal whose trust you need to earn. “I can help you.” you say more quietly. “Please.”

“Fuck off.” he seethes. His features are becoming clearer to you in the low light; a sharp nose and face full of shining silver staples. There’s a gleam in his eye that's even prevalent in the dark; something slightly sinister and untrusting.

“I’m useful.” you insist, looking at him with eyes wide. “Please.” The word hangs in between you two for a moment like a prayer.

He’s glaring at you with a curled lip; distrust lives in his eyes and he looks like he’s not sure what to do with you. Like he’s not sure why he’s in this situation and he’s trying to find another way out of it. When he speaks again he sounds like he’s in pain, like the glass on your bedroom floor moved into his throat. “Fine.” he hisses at you.

You close the bedroom door and motion for him to follow you into the living room, and he trails behind you carefully; as if he expects someone to jump out and attack him. You turn the light on and you watch him drink in the space. The cluttered coffee table full of half read magazines; the ugly patterned rug on the floor that clashes with the muted green of the walls. The way the overhead light flickers every 15 seconds. Milo is still nowhere to be found. You hope he’s okay. His home was invaded as well.

“Is your coat wet?” you ask him quietly. You know its a dumb question to ask; you can see the way the water rolls off in small beads off the back and shoulders of it. Can see the way the fabric is soaked with water.

He snorts. “Of course it’s wet. I was in the fucking rain.” His tone makes you flinch. You don’t expect the harshness of it.

“Here,” you hold your hands out to him, outstretched and welcoming. “Give it to me. I’ll dry it for you.”

He’s skeptical for a moment, but he eventually slides the tattered piece of clothing and gingerly hands it to you. He watches you take it carefully, folding it over your arm and walking away with it.

“Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.” you answer calmly. “It’s where the dryer is.”

“Oh.” he answers simply. You smile at him and say nothing. You suppose there isn’t anything else to say.

From the bathroom you can hear him sitting by the way the couch creaks under his weight. The couch is ancient; springs that creak with any sort of movement. In some strange way you’re sentimental towards the couch. It was the first thing you bought when you moved here. It’s old and creaky and you’ve slept on it many times with Milo. Spent nights crying about your lacking quirk and lonely days you spend with only phone calls from customers to keep you company. You often spend time staring outside your window during work meetings, watching couples lean into each other for warmth; the warm touch of a mother holding the hand of their child. You have lived your life from the outside looking in; watching from the windows of your apartment what it's like to live a life being touched by someone else. To live a life where you come home to someone who missed you.

You throw his jacket in the dryer, turning the knob and finding yourself satisfied by the way it clicks. You decide you like this feeling. You like the feeling of taking care of someone. You walk into the living room and see him. His eyes are looking everywhere but at you. He scans the room carefully; you watch his gaze flicker from the magazines to the worn bookshelf before settling on the tv.

You sit down carefully next to him, as if to not startle him. His eyes find yours after a moment before looking away. Everything about him makes him look on edge; the way his jaw tightens when you angle your body toward him. The way he holds his arms close to his body as if to shield himself from you. As if you’re someone he needs to shield himself from. You reach towards him slowly and watch him jump.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” he spits at you; jerking his arm away from you with a scowl.

“I need to touch you for my quirk to work.” you explain, flinching slightly away from him.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you if try shit..” He warns, voice low and full of gravel and promises.

“I know.” you tell him simply. You’re gentle when you grab his arm, gentle when you move your hands over the gap between the parts of his skin that are healed and the parts that are burned. “What’s your name?” you ask him quietly, activating your quirk.

“Why’s it matter?” He scowls at you.

“Just making conversation.” you tell him your name afterwards, handing it to him as if it’s a peace offering. He tells you his name is Dabi. When you quirk your eyebrow at him and ask him if it’s his real name he just scoffs and leaves your curiosity wanting. He watches with thinly veiled fascination as you activate your quirk; a warm white light glows across his features as he watches you work. You watch his skin pull itself back together. It feels nice using your quirk. It doesn’t get used as often as you would like. You take a pair of tweezers and fasten the staples back to his arm; ignoring the way he hisses under his breath.

You admire your handiwork when you're done; holding his arm and moving it every which way to make sure he’s healed. Your fingers gently touch his skin; tracing the spot where his scars meet his unmarred skin. You’re looking carefully; knowing your quirk has healed all of it but looking for a reason to keep touching him. He’s so warm. Like the feeling of a soft blanket on a cold day.

The drawback of your quirk hits you like a train. You’re freezing already; your body’s working overtime to keep you warm. Your stomach growls.

When you start shivering you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to cook up something warm and quick. You settle on instant noodles, turning on the kettle and waiting for the water to heat up. You can feel Dabi’s eyes boring into your back; something that feels like concern but is probably thinly veiled disrespect towards your own weakness.

You know your hopes are far too high if you’re thinking someone could care about you.

The water boils and you pour it into the pot along with the noodles. You feel goosebumps along your skin and you’re bouncing up and down on the tips of your toes trying to warm yourself up.

“The fuck are you doin?” he asks you. The threat of a laugh is hanging on his tongue. You look over at him in the living room. His eyebrow is cocked and he’s watching you with a lazy half grin; curiosity dances in his ocean eyes.

“It’s my quirk.” you explain. “Makes me cold and hungry after I use it…” you look down at the noodles, using your chopsticks to break them apart and stirring in the flavoring. “My quirk is not ah... compatible with my body. Can only heal superficial wounds with an awful drawback.” you look down at your hands and raise them up to Dabi. “I can’t feel too much in my fingertips from the nerve damage. And expending the energy has me starving afterwards.” You watch his smile drop slowly, before he turns away from you. Eyes once again fixated on the TV.

You sigh and stir your noodles more; bringing out two bowls and ladling a serving into each. You bring them over and sit next to him. You offer the bowl to him, a figurative olive branch between you both. His eyes flicker from your outstretched hand to your face, looking for any sign of ill intent. He must decide there is because he shakes his head at you. You set it down in front of him anyways.

The typhoon is still raging outside, and you find yourself grateful for his company—reluctant or not. The volume on the TV is low and all you can hear is the sound of your beating heart and the rain pattering against your windows. You’re grateful that the one thing your landlord can supply freely is heat. Your body is slowly starting to warm up. Your teeth are no longer chattering together and there’s a warmth building in your belly.

You’re both sitting in silence together. You watch Dabi out of the corner of your eye as blood red block letters scroll down the television. He’s pressed as far as he can be into the arm of the couch; arms crossed and body hunched as if to shield himself from whatever you might have to offer him.

Dabi slowly pushes a blanket towards you, not really looking at you. You think to yourself it’s his own version of an olive branch.

“Put that on.” he tells you irritably, an almost disgusted look on his face. “M’getting cold just fuckin’ lookin’ at you.”

“Careful, Dabi.” you tease. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll begin to think you care about me.”

“Never.” he scoffs. You wrap the blanket around your shoulders. You pretend his comment doesn’t hurt your feelings. Afterall, you’ve always been good at pretending. But Dabi’s eyes catch everything, and he watches the subtle way your body seems to collapse on itself; the hurt flashes in your eyes before it’s replaced with stone set neutrality.

The next movie plays. You’ve also seen this one. Another classic. A man with a chainsaw and a leather mask. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remember this is based on a true story, albeit loosely. You recall when you learned about the story, that it happened somewhere in America. It made you grateful you never leave your house.

Your bowl is empty. Dabi’s is still full. He probably won’t eat. This is okay, he doesn't have to eat your food, but you felt like you should offer. You remember your mother always had food ready for you. A silent way of saying welcome home, how was your day, and I want you to eat well.

The typhoon is sitting between you on your couch, instead of raging inside. This silence is tense. Suffocating. Building between you two. There’s nowhere to go. No place to escape to. That’s okay, you decide quietly. You remember therapists who used uncomfortable silence to coax you to speak. Maybe that will work on him. Maybe it won’t.

The screams of the movie and the torrential downpour of the typhoon lull you to sleep. It’s easier to fall asleep with Dabi on your couch. You’re not sure why this is, but you’re not mad at it. Somewhere in your sleep —or deep in your dreams—you hear the faint sound of chopsticks clinking against a bowl. The creak the couch makes when someone sits deeper into it. When someone gets comfortable. It’s nice like this. Something vaguely companionable settling into your chest.

For the second time tonight you are almost asleep. Almost. Before you can, there’s warm hands around your throat. Your eyes snap open, your fingers grab at Dabi’s wrists weakly; dying for any sort of air.

“If you tell anyone I was here I will burn your apartment down with you in it.” you know by the way he says it he means every word. He lets your throat go and you cough, sitting up and grabbing your water bottle. You can’t find it in yourself to be scared though. You never planned on saying anything anyways. Besides: who do you have in your life to spill secrets to?

You swallow before speaking, nodding your head dumbly. “Okay.”

———————————————————

When you wake in the morning, you notice his bowl is empty.

The window is taken care of. The glass is swept away and there’s a bag taped over the window. The carpet is slightly damp under your feet, but nothing too serious. If you put a towel on it now it’ll be dry by bed time. You wonder if this is how he says “thank you”. By leaving things taken care of in silence.

Dabi left sometime in the middle of the night. You’re not sure when. You didn’t hear him leave. You supposed entering and exiting quietly is something he would be quite good at, given the nature of what he does.

You wonder if he’ll stop by again. You wonder if he’ll be kinder next time. You doubt it.

You’re not sure why you like him, really. He makes for terrible conversation and has a complete lack of manners. He doesn’t say thank you, or please. Doesn’t show any sign of gratitude for a cooked meal. He barely speaks to you, in fact. Barely even looks at you when he does speak; has no opinions on movies or tv shows or much of anything. Most conversation with him is limited to grunts of acknowledgement and quipped replies that border carefully on rude. But maybe it’s the loneliness of your current life that makes you grateful for his presence regardless.

Your day is mundane, like most of them are. Frantic calls about when service will be available in certain areas due to the typhoon; questions about spotty service and missing relatives. People who just want to know that those they love are okay.

In the back of your mind you’re wondering if Dabi’s going to show up again. You wonder if you should brew a pot of coffee in case he comes by late at night but you don’t want to look like you’re desperate for him to come by —though you are. You don’t hear him come in; don’t even realize he’s standing behind you until you feel his breath on your neck.

You jump slightly and tilt your head at him. “When did you get in here?”

“10 minutes ago.” He answers. “You’re kind of oblivious. I could’ve killed you.”

“You wouldn’t.” You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks; eyes half lidded and mouth lopsided. “Through the window?”

“Well,” he snorts. “Definitely not the front door. I came through the window. S’not fixed yet.” He looks at the worry on your face, watches you turn the tea kettle down and start walking in the direction of your bedroom. He holds an arm out to stop you, sighing and rolling his eyes. “I put the plastic back over it. No need to worry about your cat.”

You snicker. “So considerate….” you turn the temperature on the kettle back up and decide to test the waters with him. “Keep coming back like this and I’ll begin to think you like me or something.”

You watch him sling a backpack over his shoulder and put it on the ground, crouching down to unzip it. “Yeah we can’t have that,” he mutters dryly. “And I can’t have you thinking I owe you one.”

You smile to mask the pain of his words; hiding the knife that's just twisted itself in your gut with a laugh. “No, we definitely can’t have that.” He shows you what’s in the backpack, it’s full of snacks. You look up at him, a smile ghosting your face. “Did you rob a convenience store?”

He lifts a hand, knocks your head with it slightly and you laugh. “Shut up and stop asking stupid questions.”

He follows you quietly to the couch, sitting across from you. He’s not horribly injured today. Mostly just scrapes and cuts that don’t take much out of you to heal, but you find yourself eating the snacks he provided for you anyways.

“Do you wanna pick the movie tonight?” you ask him, holding your hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.

He shrugs, and rests his head against the back of the couch. “Couldn’t care less about what dumb shit you wanna put on.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Milo walk into the room, jumping on the arm rest and cautiously walking over to Dabi. He makes a shooing motion with his hand, and Milo takes the opportunity to rub his cheeks against the tips of his fingers. “This cat has no boundaries.”

You cock your eyebrow at him. “Of course not. He’s a cat.”

He looks at Milo distastefully. “Annoying.”

“Be nice to him,” you warn. “He lives here too.” He looks over at you indignantly before looking away. Grumbles something into the hand that’s resting against his chin. You watch him lean back subtlety, resting his foot against the coffee table.

You pick a movie you’ve already seen, and Dabi has no complaints. You debate asking him what he’s thinking when you notice the far away look in his eyes as he stares out the window. You wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him relax, but he catches you staring. Gives you a strange and indecipherable look before he fixes his gaze back out the window. It makes you feel far away from him; seeing so clearly that he’s dreaming of a different world and you’re stuck looking at it from the outside in.

You’re tired after a while, the sound of the movie playing in your ears as you rest your head on the arm of the couch. You wordlessly reach out your hand for the blanket that hangs on the back of your couch, but Dabi grabs it for you; unfolding it and throwing it on top of your body. You mutter a sound of thanks weakly, but he says nothing. Just hums from inside his chest and keeps his eyes focused on the TV.

You fall asleep to Milo purring as Dabi stroking his ears. You wonder, somewhere deep in your mind, if Dabi knows that you saw.

—————————————————

Your window got fixed early this morning. The landlord explained how to lock it, but you felt strange when you did it. It felt odd under your hand; to move the lock over and feel the way it stays in place. You don’t like the way it feels, so you move the lock back over, deciding to keep it that way. It’ll be easier for Dabi to get back in that way, and it’ll be easier on you to have one less thing to remember to do at night. You’re not scared anyways. You don’t have anything worth taking. Not unless the burglar is looking for a cat that runs at the sound of loud noise and a person whose only thing of value is their vintage copy of The Hobbit.

You don’t really care for your landlord. He’s too chatty. He asks nosy and invasive questions about your life. The people around you mind their business. It seems he’ll never get the hint that he should do the same.

He kept asking you questions. “What happened?” You just shrugged, your arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. You want him to leave. “I’m guessing it was the storm?” You shrug again. He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs. “Well…. Don’t let it happen again.”

You say nothing to his comment —not sure what to say except it wasn’t really your fault. You’re still not sure if it was Dabi or the storm that took your window out. Regardless, you don’t care to know. It was broken, and now it’s fixed. That’s all that really matters to you.

You’ve started to expect Dabi at night. Most nights he comes, some nights he doesn’t. But every night you’re cooking food for two just in case he decides to grace you with his presence. It’s a peculiar thing that happens; a strange dynamic that wouldn’t work for most people but works just fine for both of you.

You heal Dabi and feel useful for a while. And Dabi gets a warm meal.

It’s not much but it works, even though you feel like you enjoy the company more than he does. You could spend hours agonizing over whether or not he even likes you, but it would only cause pain and spikes of unnecessary anxiety. You know he’s a villain and by this logic you can assume he doesn’t really like much and you should just consider yourself lucky he spends time with you at all.

But there’s things he does that makes you question all this. Makes you wonder if he does care about you. He brings you snacks and tells you to eat after you heal him. He doesn’t make fun of the movies you choose to watch —letting you choose the movie is a love language in itself, you think— and you’ve even caught him absentmindedly stroking Milo’s ears.

You’re staring at a pot of noodles that are breaking down in your stove and thinking about all the work you have to catch up on tomorrow —due to how long your landlord lingered— when you hear the telltale sound of the window sliding open. Dabi’s footsteps are heavy, and you wonder how badly he’s managed to injure himself because you can hear his hand sliding against the wall as he walks down the hallway.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” you laugh, turning down the heat on your stove. “My landlord was here this morning and the guy is so —” He looks strange when you finally turn to face him. His body is crumpled and leaning against the side of the couch, knees to his chest on the floor. His pupils are blown wide; body shivering. You can see sweat coating his inky hair and making tendrils that stick to his forehead. He looks so fragile; so broken. You watch his chest move up and down, see his hands tug at his hair as his eyes dart all over the room. “Dabi… what’s wrong?”

“T-t-there was….” he’s gasping and sputtering; pants in between his words. You walk over to him slowly, as if he’s a wounded animal. He backs away from you, pushes his body so hard away from you that you hear the couch hit the wall. “Someone came after me… h-had a f-fear quirk.” You watch him sob; watch his fists clench and unclench, fingers digging into the carpeted floor so tightly they turn white. “C-can you… can you—?” He looks up at you after a moment; the words he’s trying to say seemingly turning to lead in his mouth and dying on his tongue. You walk over to him carefully; crouch a few feet in front of him and scan his body for any injuries.

“I can’t heal something like this, Dabi.” You tell him quietly and the way he looks at you like you’ve betrayed him makes your heart feel far too big for your chest; makes it feel at least 5 sizes too big. The blue color of his eyes is fading into something dark now; something full of terror and regret and something else strange that you can’t quite place. You’re careful when you stand up, turning and going back to the stove. “Why don’t you sit on the couch, yeah? I’ll cook something for the both of us and we can eat and relax until the quirk wears off?” He doesn’t say anything, just nods his head and brings his knees to his chest.

You can feel his eyes on you as you move around the kitchen, watching you intensely. You’re careful to move slowly; not wanting to move too fast and trigger him. The tension in the air is almost tangible, like you could easily cut it with a knife.

You grab a warm bowl from your dishwasher, setting it onto the counter next to the pot of noodles you have boiling on the stove. “Why don’t you pick the movie we watch tonight, okay?” you tell him. “Probably no horror tonight, but we can find a nice comedy or something. Does that sound good?”

Dabi doesn’t answer you. You suppose he’s too nervous, that he’s busy trying to calm down. You turn the stove off and turn to him. He’s sitting on the couch, looking at you strangely. Like he’s terrified of you.

Your body is growing taller and taller and your eyes are getting bigger and bigger and there’s something strange happening to your hair. It's turning a fiery shade of red that looks an awful lot like his father’s and your body is filling out the same way as Endeavor’s. You’re looking so much like him that he can’t even recognize you; can’t see the kind eyes he’s learned to find a home in or the gentle curve of your lips or your cocked eyebrows when he says something you don’t find agreeable. He can’t believe it; that his father is standing in your kitchen right now ladling out noodles for him to eat and for once the thought actually terrifies him —terrified to have him so close when he’s not in the headspace to actually do anything about it— instead of filling him with sadistic joy.

You —no, Endeavor— turn towards him with a steaming bowl of food for him and it’s a knee jerk reaction that has him activating his quirk and darting towards your window.

You see fire and then feel it; watch it flicker and tickle your skin. You activate your quirk on instinct; watch the white glow of it cover your arm all at once. You barely felt the burn of it before you’re healed. You flex your hand, admire how well your quirk healed it. You bolt as well as you can to your bedroom. You should’ve been more careful with the bowl, knowing it would be hot from both the dishwasher and the noodles.

You’re tired, you’re barely able to push the window back down. Healing Dabi means you’ve gotten better, but the drawback is still there.

You shuffle to your bedroom — exhaustion making your bones heavy — and pass out on your bed.

————————————————————————

Touya Todoroki is tired of feeling like there’s blood on his hands.

He hasn’t gone far from you. He’s in the alleyway behind your apartment. He can’t get the image of your tear streaked face out of his mind. The way you shrunk away from him in fear. Your raised hands trying to protect himself from his flames. He feels awful, terrible even. Disgusted with himself.

Even worse, he feels like his father. The only thing that flashes through his mind is the raised hand of his father and the cowering of his mother and the insanity that she was pushed to.

It’s not a feeling he’s used to by any means. Guilt and shame and remorse aren’t emotions that tend to live in his chest. He’s much more accustomed to things that aren’t quite so soft. Moreso used to feelings like apathy and detachment.

But for a while now a different feeling has been crawling into his chest. Something nasty and warm that makes his throat close up and his stomach turn into knots. It makes him too hot. Makes him feel like his body is on fire again; like his quirk is activating without his consent until he realizes he was just thinking of your sleeping frame on the couch. The soft smile you make in your sleep when he caresses your cheek. They way you hum from your chest when you cook. The first time you saw him you looked at him like he held all the stars in the galaxy in his kerosene hands. No one’s ever looked at him like that. Not even his mother. He wishes he can pull out these memories from his head like a ribbon.

Dabi has to resolve himself to many things in his life: that every time he leaves for a mission he might not come back, that his life will never be sustainable for anything other than violence, and that every time he looks into the abyss it will always be your eyes staring back at him.

His heart rate is slowing back down; his body has stopped shaking. He doesn’t feel nauseous or irrational anymore. All he can feel is overwhelming guilt. Memories of the look of betrayal on your face with blue flame edges. Guilt laced words and mutters of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry that he knows you couldn’t hear.

For the first time in his life, he supposes he has to face his demons. For the first time in his life, he’s not scared to.

This is not the love story Dabi wished for as a child. This is a nightmare that happens to have love linger in it. He looks at love through a stained glass window consisting of everything he’s ever hoped to have while love stares back at him and shrugs at his neediness.

When he gets to your apartment he notices the windows unlocked. He supposes old habits die hard as he slides the glass up and shimmies his lean body in.

You’re sleeping on your side when he comes in; body curled around a stuffed pig and leg jutting out at a 90 degree angle. He’s gentle when he sits next to you on the bed; sliding his shoes off and crossing his legs underneath him. He doesn’t know how long he sits there until you stir; all he knows is that the sun is beginning to rise now, and when he got here the moon was still high in the sky.

You wake up quietly. Gently. Such a beautiful thing. You wake up how he wishes he could fall asleep: bright, eager, and peaceful.

You smile at him, curl into your stuffed animal a bit more; stretching your body and pressing your face harder against it.

He doesn’t know what to say. Finds sentences like are you hurt, how do you feel, and I’m so fuckin’ sorry much too difficult to say. So he does what’s easy for him; grins at you with a lazy, sardonic smile that manages to reflect off his sapphire colored eyes and cracks a joke. “Still sleepin’ with stuffed animals?”

You pout, clutch the pig closer to your body and furrow your brows at him. “S’got a name, you know.”

“And what would that be?”

You smile proudly at him. “Bacon.”

He snorts, rolls his eyes playfully at you. “I haven’t seen a stuffed animal in forever. No one I hang out with still sleeps with them.”

You scoff. “Your friends are boring.”

He clicks his tongue, looks at his hands laying limply in his lap. “My friends don’t sleep much, doll.”

You don’t say anything, just hum quietly with acknowledgement. You reach out to touch him before pulling your hand away. He reaches his out after a moment; fingers that curl slightly before straightening out and lining up against yours. He swallows before speaking. “D-did you….” he looks at you before looking away. “Are you…?”

“M’okay.” You answer quietly, moving your palm to interlace your fingers with him. “Healed myself up after you left. You barely got me.”

“I’m so—”

“S’okay.” you interrupt. “What’s happened, happened. You didn’t mean it.”

“I just…” he swallows thickly. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone who I felt like didn’t deserve it.”

You tilt your head at him. “And you don’t think I deserve it?”

“No.” He sighs, shaking his head definitively. “Makes me feel like my father.”

“You’re nothing like your father.” your firm when you say it, as steady as rock. Nothing he could say would ever change your mind.

“How do you know?” he asks quietly, staring at hands made of kerosene and wondering why you still trust him.

You pause for a moment, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your chin there. He’s scared, wondering if you’re carefully finding a way to retract your statement. You turn towards him after some time, reaching out and grabbing his hand. It’s the first time you don’t hesitate to touch him. It’s the first time he doesn’t pull away on instinct. You take his hand and flip it over, using your index finger to trace where his skin meets his scars. You let his hand go, and place your palms gently on his face. You hear him inhale sharply before relaxing into your touch. Your fingers move down the bridge of his nose. Your thumb across his eyebrows. You settle on his cheeks, moving your fingers down the staples on his face and resting your hands on the apples of his cheeks. He hums, leaning his head into your touch and placing his own hands over yours.

“See?” you say with a soft smile. Your voice is barely above a whisper. If he wasn’t so close to you he wouldn’t have been able to hear you. “It’s different like this.”

“I’m still afraid.” he breathes out. He feels honest. Exposed. Loving you feels like a warm hand on his back; like the first rain after a drought. Like coming home after a long vacation; or the first flower that pokes through snow. Everything about you is as vast and deep as the ocean and while it’s terrifying he can’t help but want to explore. You’re gentle with him — holding him so softly it feels like floating on your back in a pool midsummer. You look so bright. So hopeful. He’s just a shadow in the light you give off; a flower thankful to be basking in the rays of the sun. You are the garden that blooms in his chest while being the sun that keeps it alive. If you are the ocean and his is the sand, he’d let you crash into him over and over again if it means you’ll always come back to him eventually.You rest your forehead against his. He’s warmer than you remember.

You chuckle slightly and Dabi can feel your breath against his skin. “I’m afraid too. But I think we both know this is a different kind of fear. I think… ah… I think this is a fear we should feel.” He waits for you to speak again, still holding his breath that you’ll change your mind about him. He feels like he’s rotting here. Like his body is slowly decaying into nothing more than ash and hopes of what could be. “I think you can be kind.” you say carefully. “I think you’re a product of all the things that happened to you.” Pain has always been the house he’s lived in, but you burned it all down with desperate hands and a kerosene heart. You’ve healed wounds that are more than surface deep, despite the limitations of your quirk.

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when his hand finds the soft skin of your cheek and he’s ducking his head to plant a kiss on your lips. But he does know he’s elated when he finds you’re only deepening it; the way you tilt your head to give him more access and the soft sigh you make when your fingers tangle into his hair.

“Touya.” He tells you breathlessly, breaking the kiss. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and then opens them. His hand finds yours; thumb stroking against your knuckles. “My name. My name is Touya.”

“Touya.” you say slowly, feeling the way his name makes your tongue move in your mouth. You look up at him, smile softly and brush his hair gently out of his face. You hover over his lips, swallowing the air that escapes him. “Okay,” you whisper. “Okay, Touya.”

He’s so rough, so eager as he brings his lips to yours again. His hands grasp at every part of your body and hold you like you’ll float away. His kiss is hungry; teeth clashing against teeth as his tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth. It’s so fucking erotic to you, two people desperate for eachother and holding onto the other as if you’ll both sink into the vast ocean of each others emptiness if either one of you decide to let go. You’re eagerly humping his leg, begging for any sort of relief on your cunt as his hand grabs the plush on your ass.

“So fuckin needy.” He chuckles into your mouth, biting and sucking down your neck as his grip on your ass tightens.“Wanna be a good girl, yeah baby? Wanna make me feel good?” Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, thick and rolling and unable to string together a coherent sentence so you just find your head nodding dumbly; gasping and needing whimpers escaping your lips that are glossy with his spit. The only thing warmer than the alcohol coursing through your body is the warmth of Dabi’s hand pushing you down to your knees in front of him. He’s clumsy as he tugs his pants off, cock hard and erect as it springs out of his boxers. It’s thick, straight and pretty with veins running along the sides of it; a reddish purple tip with a pearl of pre sitting at the top of it that just makes your mouth water at the sight. A musty and sweet and masculine scent coming off of it and you eagerly put it into your mouth.

He grabs your hair, forcing you down his length until you feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. He’s brutal when he starts moving you up and down his shaft, tears springing to your eyes as you gag around him; forcing yourself to remember to breathe through your nose as your nails dig into his hips. “Fuck yeah, you’re doing so good for me. Such a good little girl for me, yeah?” You moan around his shaft; knowing your mouth is being abused but grateful that at least it’s him doing it. Just when you think you’ve had enough; just when you think you’ll suffocate around his length he’s whispering breathy praises that make your pussy throb around nothing.

And it’s so fucking sexy; the way you look up to a perfectly sculpted jawline thrown back and listen to an orchestra of moans that come from his lips that sound better than anything Apollo could compose. You realize that you love being the reason someone feels this good and you’ll do anything to have him look at you with ocean blue so blown out by lust that the pupils swallow all the color. But before you can be the one that makes him come undone he’s pulling you off of him and tossing you onto the bed; his thick and scarred fingers are tugging your panties down as your hands desperately claw at the sheets underneath you. “Lemme take care of you, baby. Wanna make you feel good too.” You feel his lips gently press to the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of purple marks before he’s nosing at your clit. You feel the wet muscle of his tongue move your slick around as he dips teasingly into your entrance. It’s so hot to you, you’re seeing stars while he’s eating you out like it’s his last meal. He’s grinding himself into the mattress while holding your hips in place; giving you no relief from the eagerness of his tongue as it runs tight circles against your clit; a puddle of his drool mixed with your essence pooling underneath your body. He slides two fingers into you easily, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again. It doesn’t take long for you to come undone; orgasm tearing through your body with a tiny mewl that comes from deep within your chest.

He lays his back against the headboard, guiding your pussy to his cock and impaling you on him. You cry out at the feeling of being filled so quickly, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as you attempt to pull yourself together enough to rock back and forth.“Fuck, you feel so good.” The tears lining your eyes make the stars in his glow so much brighter. “Such a good little cocksleeve riding me.” All you can do is moan in response, your head too full from Dabi’s cock to be able to string together a coherent sentence. “Can’t even say anything? Too stupid from my cock now, aren’t you?” His teeth tug at your nipples, overstimulated and sensitive as his tongue runs over the flesh; his other hand grasping at your breast eagerly. He cums soon enough, filling you up with his seed with a few sloppy thrusts of his hips.

He watches you for a moment; focuses on the rise and fall of your chest. The way your lips are slightly curved not with a smile but with a strange sort of awe. Like you can’t believe he’s still here. Like you know that he’ll be here tomorrow and the thought makes your entire chest feel like it’s on fire.

He is both burning and burned but you don’t seem to mind. In fact, you’ve seemed to walk into the fire and love the way it feels. It’s natural, he thinks, for warm bodies to find each other. How strange to him. He can’t ever remember his parents in love; can’t remember watching them ever hold each other for warmth, but all he can think about is the way people tend to find warm and solid things to lean on. That for so long he had nothing to lean on and he was so close to folding in on himself until he found you.

“Touya.” you mutter groggily. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you saying his name. He doesn’t think he wants to. “D’you wan’ breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he laughs softly. “Sleep for a bit first, though.” He lights a cigarette, blows the air away from you. “You sound tired.”

You yawn and bury your face deeper into his chest. “Wake me up in five minutes.”

“Of course.”

#touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki imagine #touya todoroki x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #tw:praisekink #tw:degradation #tw: dumbification #tw: hallucinations #scout scribbles #1k club

[akutashi]

Calm After The Storm {Ryunosuke Akutagawa}

Tags: 18+ MDNI, (some hard) choking, degradation, name calling (slut), praise, neck/shoulder biting, unprotected sex/creampie.

WC: 477

This feral man consumes my mind 24/7 and I strongly believe he loves degrading you but needs you to praise him pls don’t be mean to him :((. change my mind

To say that you and Akutagawa were polar opposites was probably a severe understatement. While you built him up he teared you down.

He grunted as you bounced on his lap, his fingers wrapped firmly around your neck as your mouth hung open. You let out a moan, feeling the vibration of it get stuck in your throat due to Akutagawa’s choking.

“Such a dirty little slut, trust me too easily to do anything to you huh? What if I just-“Cold, sharp and callused, his fingertips dug into the side of your neck, the feeling in your throat tightening up the base of your neck. Catching you by surprise, your hands shot up to grab at his wrist, tongue hanging out of your mouth in an attempt to allow any amount of air into your lungs. He thrusted up into you, your body shaking on top of him. “So easy for me, how pathetic,” sweat beginning to drip from his forehead. Your moan was low and weak as you clenched around him, remnants of your pleasure slowly beginning to wet Akutagawa’s thighs underneath you.

The two of you both took a breath, chests heaving. Placing a soft kiss to Akutagawa's lips you steadied yourself and began to move again. You were a different lover than Akutagawa was, you were softer, sure of yourself but softer—the calm after the storm. You shuddered as you moved up and down on his length. You tightened around him every time you came down on him, his length filling you up as much as it could. "Feels s'good Ryu.... S'good,' Your voice soft as you stared into his eyes, pupils wide and shimmering, he twitched inside of you, letting the weight of your words and gaze sink in as some of the tension left his body. Close—he was painfully aware of how close the two of you were now, skin touching skin, your chest pressed against his as you rode him, the light breath you let out as you moaned tickled his face. His face buried in the crook of your neck, lightly nipping at your shoulder, his fingers gripped your hips as you moved.

It wasn’t the same grip he had around your neck just moments ago, no it was softer than that. A sign that Akutagawa let his guard down, something he would never do. “Filling me up so good Ryu.” His breath hitched, luckily his face was still hidden from occupying himself with the kisses and bites that now littered your neck or else you would have seen his current flustered state. You came down on him again with a harsh slap of skin hitting skin, his grip tightened as you hit his thighs, holding you still as he softly cursed, releasing inside of you. You moaned in surprise, smiling as you pulled him in for another kiss.

#bungo stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs smut #akutagawa smut #ryunosuke akutagawa smut #akutagawa imagine #bungo stray dogs imagines #akutagawa x reader #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #tw:degradation #tw:praise #tw:unprotected sex #tw:choking #bsd smut #bsd imagines #bsd imagine #bsd #bungo stray dogs #akutagawa #ryunosuke akutagawa

[dadbodosamu]

the ojiros

Aran Ojiro x Cis!Fem Reader x Kita Shinsuke

WARNINGS: Poly relationship, housewife talk, double penetration, daddy kink, sir kink, brat reader, light degradation, like three spanks, dumbification, wombfucking, mention of blood (not graphic), breeding, creampie, cum inflation, cum eating, snowballing, m/m kissing

3.9k words, literally the loosest definition of edited

“Oh, ho, it’s my big city girl,” Aran said as you walked into Shinsuke’s farmhouse.

“Be quiet,” you said, waving him off as you leaned down to peck his lips.

“It’s my sweet girl,” Shinsuke said, walking into the living room from the kitchen. He was drying his hands on a washcloth and had no doubt just come in from the fields.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted as Shinsuke wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pecked his lips.

“Oh, so I get a ‘be quiet’ while Shin gets a ‘hey, baby’ and an embrace,” Aran said. “So yer racist?”

“Hush up, Aran,” Shinsuke said, throwing the wash cloth at him.

You climbed into Aran’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“Is that better?” You asked. Aran smiled widely and nodded.

“How was Tokyo?” Shinsuke asked, sitting next to Aran on the couch.

“Busy,” you said. “I’m glad to be home.”

“I’m glad yer home,” Shinsuke said. “Especially since this one has to leave in two weeks.” Shinsuke elbowed Aran lightly.

“For the Olympics,” Aran said. “S’hardly fair to hold it against me.”

“Ya know we’ll be rootin’ fer ya,” Shinsuke said, rubbing Aran’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ll be cheering for you the whole time,” you agreed.

“Thanks,” Aran said, nuzzling into your neck and pressing a kiss against your skin.

Shinsuke cleared his throat.

“Thank ya, too,” Aran said, leaning over and pecking Shinsuke’s lips.

“You better beat Argentina,” you said. “Oikawa will never let me live it down if he beats you.”

“I promise we’ll beat Argentina,” Aran said, smiling. “How could we not with all the talent we have on the team?”

“Good,” you said, kissing his cheek again. “Now, our show should be coming on any minute.”

“Don’t ya want dinner first? After being on the train all day?” Shinsuke asked.

“What are we having?” You asked.

“Tonkotsu ramen,” Shinsuke said.

“We can eat first,” you said. You stood up from Aran’s lap and stretched before wandering to the kitchen.

“Help me prepare the vegetables?” Aran asked, following after you. You nodded.

“Let me change out of my work clothes first,” you said, looking down at your pristine, white top.

You walked up the steps towards the bedroom and quickly changed into a shirt of Shinsuke and an old pair of Inarizaki sweats that the boys had long since outgrown.

You bounced back downstairs where Aran was chopping carrots and Shinsuke was pouring pork broth into a pot. You kissed their cheeks before grabbing a knife and chopping an onion carefully.

“Noodles, sweet girl?” Shinsuke asked, glancing at you.

You grabbed the noodles and handed them to Shinsuke, who pulled you into him and held you tightly.

“I really missed ya,” he mumbled into your hair. “I’m tired of ya havin’ to leave me every other week.”

“I know, baby,” you said, looking up at him. “I missed you, too.”

“Quit yer job,” Aran said, coming up behind you. He brushed your hair away from your neck and kissed your exposed shoulder. “Me an’ Shin make more than enough to support ya.”

“I’d get bored,” you said as Shinsuke and Aran kissed either side of your neck.

“Ya can get a job in town,” Shinsuke said. “Or ya can help me with the farm.”

“We can keep ya busy,” Aran said. “Ya can come with me when I travel fer games.”

“Tempting,” you said as they both licked and sucked at your neck. “Especially when I have two strong, good looking men asking.”

“Then do it,” Shinsuke said. “Say ya’ll quit yer job.”

“Ya don’t even like it,” Aran said. Shinsuke chose that moment to bite down on the spot he’d been teasing.

“Shin!” You gasped.

“Quit yer job and be our sweet, lil housewife,” Shinsuke said, licking over the tender bite mark.

“Come on, darlin’,” Aran said. His hands ran down your sides before one came to rest at your hip and the other wandered beneath your sweat pants. “No panties? Naughty girl.”

“The food,” you gasped out as Aran rubbed two fingers around your clit. Shinsuke reluctantly pulled away from you and turned the stove off before attaching himself to you.

“Say ya will quit yer job,” Shinsuke said, tugging your shirt up. You lifted your arms, allowing him to remove your shirt and throw it to an unknown corner of the kitchen. Aran pinched your sensitive clit, making you gasp.

“Fine!” You exclaimed. “I’ll quit my job!”

“That’s my sweet girl,” Shinsuke said. He tilted your chin up and kissed you deeply. You moaned into his mouth as Aran rubbed your clit harder.

“Good girl,” Aran mumbled into your neck.

“Aran,” you moaned, leaning your head back on his shoulder. Your legs shook and your knees threatened to buckle. Shinsuke held you upright as Aran continued his teasing.

“Gonna cum just from his fingers, sweet girl?” Shinsuke asked. You nodded weakly.

“Just, just a little more,” you breathed. Aran moved his fingers faster.

“Cum on his fingers like a good girl,” Shinsuke said. “Come on, I know ya can do it, be a good girl fer us.”

“Fuck, fuck!” You exclaimed. Your eyes rolled back as your stomach tightened and the coil finally snapped. Your juices gushed out, running down your thighs.

“Let’s get her t’ bed,” Aran said, pulling his hand away from your cunt.

“Come on, sweet girl,” Shinsuke said, sweeping you up in his arms. He carefully carried you upstairs to the bedroom. He laid you on the king sized bed. He and Aran looked down at you, eyes tracing your body.

“Gonna take us both, tonight?” Aran asked. You nodded.

“I want you both in me,” you said. “Want you to stretch my cunt out.”

“Fuck,” Shinsuke hissed, palming his cock through his jeans. He pulled his shirt off and stripped out of his jeans, standing just in his boxers as Aran stripped down.

“Who’s on bottom?” Aran asked.

“I should go first,” Shinsuke said. “Let her get used to the stretch first.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aran said, pumping his cock, slowly. Aran was longer than Shinsuke by barely an inch but Shinsuke was thicker by far. You’d always struggled to take him when you’d first got with him.

Shinsuke crawled up on the bed, pulling your sweats off before laying next to you. He was leaned up against the headboard and patted his thigh.

“Come on, sweet girl, sit on Daddy’s cock,” Shinsuke said. You carefully straddled his hips, reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance.

“Take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, okay?” Aran said, crawling up behind you. You nodded and whimpered as the fat head of Shinsuke’s cock stretched out your hole.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. “Fuck, it’s so fat, stretching me out so good.”

“Take more of me, baby,” Shinsuke said, grabbing your hips. He forced you down, pushing more of his cock in your tight hole. Your eyes rolled back.

“Yer takin’ him so well, jus’ swallowin’ him up,” Aran said. You moaned as you sank down, taking Shinsuke’s cock completely.

“That’s my sweet girl,” Shinsuke said, letting his head fall back against the headboard. “Fuck, don’t-dont move yet. So tight around me, fuck.”

“Been too long,” you moaned. “Need your cock everyday.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I’ll give ya my cock whenever ya want it, now that yer gonna be our sweet, lil housewife,” Shinsuke said. “Gonna fill ya up every night until ya get too swollen with our babies.”

You moaned as Shinsuke adjusted, giving Aran a better angle to stretch you out.

“Start stretchin’ her out,” Shinsuke said. Aran ran a finger around your stretched out hole and then wiggled it in next to Shinsuke’s cock.

You hissed at the stretch.

“Maybe loosen her up a bit,” Aran said, pulling away.

You quietly moaned as Shinsuke guided your hips up.

“Bounce on my cock, sweet girl,” Shinsuke said.

“Don’t wanna,” you said. “Want Daddy to fuck me.”

“Don’t be a brat,” Aran said, landing a stinging slap to your ass.

“Daddy!” You yelped.

“Be nice, Aran,” Shinsuke said. “My baby wants Daddy to fuck her.”

Shinsuke easily flipped you over, pushing your knees against your chest. You moaned as he pressed into you slowly.

“Shin,” you moaned, clenching your fists in the blanket beneath you. He rolled his hips with experienced ease, the head of his fat cock pressing against your cervix.

“So tight, baby, how are ya supposed to take both of us in this tiny, little hole?” Shinsuke asked.

“I can do it,” you said, pouting. Shinsuke grabbed your protruding lip, forcing your mouth open and shoving three, thick fingers against your tongue.

“Sweet girls don’t pout,” he said as your tongue swirled around his fingers. “Aren’t ya my sweet girl?”

You nodded, breathing heavily as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

“She’s a brat,” Aran said, slowly pumping his cock from where he kneeled beside Shinsuke.

“‘m not a brat,” you argued. “I’m daddy’s sweet girl.”

“That’s right,” Shinsuke said. He reached down, slowly rubbing your clit.

“Daddy,” you keened, arching your back and throwing your head back.

“Nuh-uh, look at Daddy,” Aran said, leaning forward and grabbing your hair. He forced your head up, and you watched as Shinsuke slowly thrusted in you.

“Wish ya could see how well yer cunt swallows my fat cock,” Shinsuke said. You whined.

“Let me grab the camera,” Aran said, reaching over to a bedside table and grabbing his cell phone. Shinsuke tore his fingers from your swollen clit, grabbing the phone and angling it towards your cunt.

You moaned as he forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls until it burned.

“Look at that,” Shinsuke said, turning the phone and showing you the video of his girthy cock splitting your tiny cunt open.

“Want more,” you said, unable to tear your eyes from the video. Already a ring of your creamy juices had formed around the base of his cock and you desperately wanted to see how your poor, little cunt would look stretched around two, big cocks.

“Ya ready t’ take both of us?” Aran asked.

You nodded. “Wanna be so full.”

“Come ‘ere, baby,” Shinsuke said, flipping the two of you back over. You moaned as you sank back down on his cock.

Aran crawled between Shinsuke’s legs. He pressed his large hand on the small of your back, forcing it to arch. He placed a small kiss at the base of your neck before slowly pushing a finger in next to Shinsuke’s cock.

“Sir,” you moaned, arching your back more as Aran curled his finger against your walls.

“So fuckin’ loose,” Aran sneered. “Surprised Shin doesn’t just slip out of this slutty, little hole.”

“G’head and add another finger,” Shinsuke said.

Aran slipped in another finger with little resistance. You moaned softly as he twisted his fingers. You breathed deeply, relaxing against Shinsuke’s chest.

“More,” you breathed as you wrapped your arms around Shinsuke. “Sir, I want more, please.”

“Already? What a whore, one cock just isn’t enough for this hole,” Aran said, adding a third finger slowly.

“Not a whore,” you mumbled.

Aran laughed. “Oh? Yer beggin’ fer more and Shin’s already balls deep in yer cunt. What are ya then? Daddy’s sweet girl?”

“I am Daddy’s sweet girl,” you insisted.

“But yer my whore,” Aran said, smacking your ass.

“Think she’s ready?” Shinsuke asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Aran said, spreading his fingers out and stretching you even more. You moaned as Aran pulled his fingers out and Shinsuke slowly pulled his cock out.

You opened your mouth to whine when you felt two blunt heads against your stretched hole. You shuttered as they slowly pushed in. Goosebumps spread along your arms and your mouth fell open with a moan.

“Such a sweet sound,” Shinsuke cooed. You moaned again as his rough hands caressed your sides. “Takin’ us so well, sweet girl.”

“Yer slutty hole is practically suckin’ us in,” Aran said.

“Daddy, Sir, I feel so full,” you said. Your head fell against Shinsuke’s shoulder.

“Aw, baby, we’re not even halfway in,” Shinsuke said. You whimpered as they pushed in a few inches deeper.

“Can’t,” you whined. “Can’t take anymore.”

“I thought ya wanted to take us both,” Aran said, tangling his fingers in your hair. He pulled your head back. “Yer my lil whore, ya can take it.”

“Hurts,” you said, pouting.

“No pouting,” Shinsuke said. Aran slapped your ass and they slipped deeper in you.

“Daddy!” You exclaimed as they bottomed out.

“Fuck, yer so tight,” Shinsuke groaned, leaning his head back on the headboard.

“Fuckin’ chokin’ my cock,” Aran said with a grunt.

“Don’t-Don’t move,” you breathed. “Please.”

Shinsuke pulled you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding against your own and a mix of both of your spit running down your chins.

“Come here,” Aran said, pulling you away from Shinsuke.

You whined until Aran tilted your head and kissed you roughly, biting your bottom lip and tongue fighting for dominance against yours.

“I gotta move,” Shinsuke said, groaning as he wiggled his hips.

“No, Daddy, no,” you whined. “Not yet.”

“‘m sorry, sweet girl,” Shinsuke said, grabbing your hips. He slowly dragged his cock against your fluttering walls.

“Oh!” You moaned. Your head fell back against Aran’s shoulder. “More, more!”

Once Shinsuke was once again deep inside you, Aran pulled out.

“Her fuckin’ cunt almost won’t let me pull out,” Aran groaned. His eyes rolled back as he and Shinsuke rutted into you at the same time. “Shin, fuck, I can’t take it.”

“Let’s just set a pace,” Shinsuke said, breathing heavily as he dug his calloused fingers into your skin. Soon, the boys fell into a steady if not a little fast, pace. Aran moved a beat or two behind Shinsuke, meaning Shinsuke’s head hit against your cervix and a second later Aran’s head was pressing against it. You never had a second of emptiness as the boys barely pulled out before thrusting back into your wet heat.

“So fuckin’ addictin’,” Shinsuke said, burying his cock in you to the hilt. “This pussy is what I imagine cocaine feels like.”

“Nah, this pussy is heaven,” Aran said, bullying his cock against your cervix.

You couldn’t speak as they abused your cunt. All you could think about was the delicious stretch and the fucking addicting way their cocks dragged against your walls.

“What’s the matter, baby? Can’t speak?” Shinsuke asked, grabbing your chin as drool spilled over your bottom lip.

“Look at her, not a thought in her empty head,” Aran said, rapping his knuckle against your skull. You moaned.

“We fucked her stupid,” Shinsuke said, smiling at you. “Our dumb, lil baby.”

“Da—“ your word trailed off into a moan as Aran reached around and pressed two fingers against your neglected clit. Shinsuke laughed at your dazed face and hazy eyes.

“Dumb lil slut,” Aran grunted, forcing his cock deeper.

“She’s our lil dummy,” Shinsuke said. He lightly slapped your cheek. “Come on, baby, wake up.”

“Harder,” you mumbled, only slightly coming to.

“Ya heard her,” Aran said. He thrusted faster, drilling his hips against your ass. Shinsuke wasted no time, holding your hips tightly as he matched Aran’s pace. They moved oppositely, one pulling out as the other pushed in. You lost track of who was who as you collapsed against Shinsuke, moaning and whimpering as their cock heads pounded against your cervix, threatening to break into your womb. While you and Aran had tried wombfucking a handful of times, you’d never experienced it when it was all three of you.

“Gonna break,” you moaned weakly. Aran bit his bottom lip, thrusting harder and deeper.

“Gonna fuck past yer cervix,” he grunted. “Yeah? Ya want me t’ break ya?”

“Please, Sir, please, please, please,” you begged, struggling to stay upright. You pushed your hands against Shinsuke’s chest, digging your perfectly painted fingernails into his tanned skin.

“Oh, fuck,” Shinsuke groaned as your nails dragged down his pecs. A drop or two of blood beaded up from the scratches. “Fuck, yer such a good girl.”

“Daddy, break me,” you moaned. “Want you to break me.”

“What does she mean?” Shinsuke asked.

“She wants you to fuck through her cervix,” Aran said. He grunted as his cock finally broke through.

“Aran!” You screamed. Your eyes rolled back and your vision went black as you creamed around their cocks.

“Oh, fuck,” Shinsuke swore. “That’s my girl, milk our cocks. Fuck, my sweet girl.”

“Hah, haa,” you moaned, still cumming. Your arms and legs shook as Aran pulled out and Shinsuke forced his way past your cervix. “Daddy, fuck, you’re so deep!”

“In yer womb, isn’t that right, sweet girl?” Shinsuke asked, pushing down on where his cock forced your stomach to bulge out.

Aran still thrusted in and out of you as Shinsuke stayed buried in your womb.

“Your cock feels so good against mine,” Shinsuke moaned. Aran nodded and thrusted faster.

“Fuck, wanna cum,” Aran said, moving his fingers on your clit faster. “Wanna cum deep inside ya, knock ya up with our babies.”

“Please, Sir,” you begged. Shinsuke finally moved, just in time for Aran to bury himself balls deep in you, head of his cock past your cervix as he filled your womb with his hot cum.

Shinsuke groaned as he felt Aran’s cock pumping cum out against his own cock. You moaned high pitched as Aran’s cock spurted more and more cum in you.

“Gonna cum,” Shinsuke said, thrusting shallowly. Aran finished with a gasp and slowly pulled out, allowing Shinsuke to force himself deeper.

“Fill me up, Daddy,” you breathed. “Wanna be swollen with your cum.”

“Sweet girl, I’m gonna give it to ya,” Shinsuke said. You whimpered as he forced the fat head of his cock past your cervix before the first rope of cum spurted out, joining Aran’s cum.

“Oh, oh,” you moaned, letting your forehead head fall against Shinsuke’s. He was looking down at where his skin melded with yours, hands still pushing against where your stomach was distended from his fat cock.

“Gonna look pregnant when I’m finished,” Shinsuke muttered, cum still pouring from his cock, filling your womb up. “Fuck.” His cock twitched weakly, forcing one last rope of cum out.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you on his cock as it softened inside your walls.

“Gotta keep it in ya, make sure it’ll take,” Shinsuke whispered as he gazed into your eyes.

You whimpered as he finally pulled you off of his soft cock, laying you in between him and Aran. Aran shoved a pillow under your hips, angling them upwards to stop their cum from leaking out.

“‘m so full,” you said, rubbing your lower stomach. The cum inside you made you look and feel bloated.

“It’s like a lil sneak peak of how ya’ll look when yer carryin’ our babies,” Aran said. Shinsuke stayed silent, but stared at your swollen stomach with wide, glassy eyes.

The three of you laid silently for a while before Shinsuke finally rolled out of bed and walked into the attached bathroom.

“Let me clean ya up,” Shinsuke said, coming back with a warm, wet cloth. He spread your legs, crawling between them. He removed the pillow and pressed down on your lower stomach, forcing all of their cum out of you.

You sighed as you felt their cum pour out of your cunt.

“Fuck, what a sight,” Shinsuke said, watching as their cum dropped out of your abused hole and down your slit. Aran silently handed him the phone and Shinsuke started filming as he carefully scooped the cum up with his fingers and forced it back inside you. You moaned.

“So fuckin’ full of us,” Shinsuke said, scissoring his fingers in and out of you. “No way yer not pregnant after that.”

Aran crawled down the bed, watching Shinsuke repeatedly force their cum out only to push it back in.

“Ya need to clean her up,” Aran said. You whimpered and nodded.

“Show me how,” Shinsuke said, moving to the side and letting Aran in his previous spot.

“A good way to start is like this,” Aran said. He spread your legs wider and leaned down, licking deep in your hole.

“Aran!” You exclaimed, hands shooting down to push his head away. Aran ignored you as Shinsuke grabbed your hands, forcing them away.

“Let Aran clean ya up, baby,” Shinsuke said. You cried out as Aran’s scruff rubbed against your inner thighs and his tongue scooped out the cum inside of you. He made loud, lewd slurping noises as he swallowed the mix of his and Shinsuke’s cum. His nose nudged your clit and your legs were already shaking.

“Want a taste, pretty baby?” Aran asked, looking up at you. You nodded. Aran leaned back down, pressing on your lower stomach, forcing cum into his mouth. He leaned over you, grabbing your cheeks and forcing your mouth open before letting the silvery white cum drip out of his mouth and into yours.

You moaned at the taste of both of them. Swallowing the cum down, you whined.

“More, I want more,” you said. Aran crawled back down, taking more cum in his mouth. As he leaned up, Shinsuke grabbed his chin and pulled him into a messy kiss. Shinsuke groaned into the kiss, and you could see his tongue as he scooped the cum from Aran’s mouth into his own.

“I think it’s nice to share,” Shinsuke said, breathlessly as he pulled away.

Your pupils were blown from watching your boys. Each of them had a mix of cum and spit covering their lips and chin. You leaned up, first pulling Shinsuke into a messy kiss, licking the cum from his lips and sucking on his tongue before pulling Aran into an equally messy kiss.

“We better clean ya up for real before we end up makin’ a bigger mess,” Aran said, leaning his forehead against yours. He pecked your lips before taking the now cold washcloth from Shinsuke and wiping your cunt and thighs down.

Aran got up, going into the bathroom before returning with a clean washcloth and wiping his and Shinsuke’s faces clean.

“Come here,” Aran said, holding his arms open as he laid back on the bed. You and Shinsuke both cuddled up to him on either side, resting your hands on Aran’s chest.

“I love you two,” you said, burying your head in Aran’s neck. You pressed a small kiss to his skin.

“I love ya both” Aran said, kissing your forehead. He turned to his other side, pressing a kiss to Shinsuke’s forehead.

“I love ya two,” Shinsuke said, pressing a kiss on the other side of Aran’s neck.

“Three soon,” you said. Shinsuke and Aran both smiled widely.

“Three soon,” Shinsuke echoed, reaching over and rubbing your stomach.

“Maybe more,” Aran said, eyeing your stomach. You smiled.

“That’s alright with me,” you said.

“More hands to work the farm,” Shinsuke said.

“I think ya mean more members for our family volleyball team,” Aran said.

“No reason they can’t do both,” you said. “The Ojiro Farmers sounds like a Division 1 V league team to me.”

“Just gotta make y’all Ojiros first,” Aran said, hugging you two closer to him.

“Aran Ojiro, Shinsuke Ojiro, and Y/n Ojiro. The Ojiros,” Shinsuke said. “Sounds good to me.”

#aran thoughts #shinsuke thoughts #aran ojiro smut #kita shinsuke smut #haikyuu smut #aran ojiro x reader #aran ojiro x reader smut #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke x reader smut #aran ojiro x reader x kita shinsuke #aran ojiro x kita shinsuke #cai writes #tw:daddy kink #tw:degradation #tw:breeding #tw:housewife #tw:sir kink #tw:blood #tw:cum eating #tw:cum inflation #tw:creampie

[semisgroupie]

SURVEILLANCE OF PLEASURE

perv roommate!kunigami rensuke x fem. reader (ft. perv roommate!raichi jingo)

wc: 2.4k

warnings: noncon filming (hidden camera placed by raichi), male masturbation, female masturbation, oral sex (m!receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight dumbification, the good ol’ praise and degradation combo, exhibitionism, fishhooking (is that the right term? maybe), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), spit

synopsis: it all started with a hidden camera “prank”

a/n: this is for my “perverts make the world go ‘round” 4k event and was requested by an anon!

If there was one thing Kunigami knew for sure about Raichi, it was that Raichi was a sneaky, disgusting pervert.

It all started when you three decided you would move in together. The three of you were extremely close, met on orientation day in college and have stuck with each other ever since. So after graduation when you all ended up working within the same neighborhood, it was just agreed upon that you would all move in together.

Raichi thought it would be a fun prank to plant a hidden camera in your room. Kunigami instantly knew the ulterior motives behind the so-called “prank”. It was known to everyone except you that the two had a little crush on you that often led to some not-so-innocent fantasies. Like what you looked like naked or what you would look like with a mouthful of cock or how pretty you’d sound while your pretty pussy was getting split open.

But Kunigami decided to play along, only if he was able to get access to the footage too, which Raichi did.

The hidden camera was in the eye of a stuffed bear they gifted you. You didn’t even think twice about the little gift and you didn’t even question why you couldn’t move it from the little bookshelf in your room. From that day on they saw every single thing you did in, what you believed was, the privacy of your own room.

They watched as you did little modeling shows in your room whenever you went on a shopping spree, they watched as you lotioned up your body after a hot shower, they watched as you walked around naked in your room just for the hell of it. But the best sight of all was when you took your little vibrating dildo from your nightstand and fucked yourself with it. Watching as you writhed and arched your back off your bed so prettily as you worked yourself to an orgasm.

As the months passed Kunigami’s feeling of guilt passed and changed into carnal desire. He often found himself replaying the clips of you fucking yourself with your toy while he fisted his cock. He matched your pace and would cum with you but then would take over his body. He needed more, he needed your touch, he needed the real thing.

Fucking his fist wasn’t enough anymore. And he needed to make a plan where he could finally have you.

Raichi was going away on a trip to visit his family for the weekend which meant you would be alone with Kunigami and that also meant he could finally have you.

You two spent the entire day together watching whatever show you wanted to binge, he bought takeout for you both and he couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you.

Now it was the perfect time to execute his plan.

“Hey, remember that party sophomore year where we were all playing fuck, marry, kill?” You paused your show and turned to face him. How could you forget?

It was a wild night and your first ever college party. It was also the night where you drunkenly made out with two people during a game of spin the bottle, the two people you now live with. During the game Raichi put three names together; Isagi, Kuon and Kunigami. You said you’d marry Isagi, kill Kuon and fuck Kunigami. That night was also the night you developed a little crush on Kunigami and no matter how much you tried to fight it off, the crush only grew and now that you live with him any attraction to him was impossible to ignore.

“Of course I remember that night, I’ve never seen someone get so offended by a fake answer before.” Kunigami chuckled and moved closer to you, closing the small distance between you two.

“Do you remember the answer you gave when the choices were me, Isagi and Kuon?” You felt your face heat up at the new proximity between you two and nodded at his question. “And do you feel the same way about your answer about me? What I mean to say is, do you want me to fuck you?” He knew he was being extremely forward about this but he didn’t have the patience to take things slow. He had been pent up for so long and he had to let it out.

Your heart pounded in your chest and you met his fiery gaze and you nodded slowly. “Y-yes.” It had been too long since you hooked up with someone so maybe it was the pent up sexual frustration or maybe it was your crush on him that was speaking for you but once the confirmation left your lips, he pounced on you like a predator that has finally gotten to its prey. He smashed his lips into yours in a passion filled kiss, he poured his hunger onto your lips and you gripped his arms tightly. You were thankful that he adorned his usual attire, going shirtless and only wearing loose basketball shorts and you wore a thin tank top and even thinner shorts.

His hands moved along your body, gripping and groping whatever he could get his hands on. He pinched and gripped all your sensitive parts that made you whine and moan his name against his lips then an idea struck.

He knew that Raichi would spy on you as you got ready for bed since it was also his routine. So why not give him a little show?

He broke the kiss and stood up, grabbing your hand. “Cmon, let’s go to your room.” You followed him eagerly, anticipating what he’ll plan to do next to you. Once you two were inside his hands went back on you, almost tearing off your thin clothes before taking his off. He maneuvered you over to where the camera was and grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging it to bring your head back. “I want you to put that pretty mouth to use, you can do that for me right?”

He leaned in close and licked a stripe along your pulse point. “Yes, I can do that.” He groaned against your skin and placed his hands on your shoulders to push you down until you were eye level with his cock. A trail of neatly trimmed orange hair went down from his belly button to his cock, which stood proud in front of your face. It throbbed and was thicker than anything you’ve ever seen, it was also slightly above average length and curved slightly upwards. Your mouth watered at the sight of it and you stuck your tongue out to lick along the length of it, tracing the vein on the underside until you reached the head and started sucking on it.

He threw his head back and let out a groan of your name, it took everything in him to not start thrusting into your mouth. He wanted to let you take your time and get adjusted to his cock, so he’ll wait just a little longer. He placed one hand on your head while you started bobbing your head, guiding you along his length while you went at your own pace. “Fuck, you were made to suck cock. Taking it so good baby, my little cockslut.” You pressed your thighs together at his words, they came out mixed with his groans and you couldn’t help but move one hand down to start rubbing your clit.

By yourself, you were able to reach about halfway down his cock before you needed to move your head back for air but that wasn’t enough, wasn’t even close to enough. “Oh come on, I know you can do better than that. Such a greedy slut, too focused on yourself instead of the cock in your mouth. Guess I have to show you what you need to do.” He placed both of his large hands on either side of your head and held you in place as he started thrusting. In one swift thrust he was able to shove his cock all the way down your throat and your hands quickly shot up to hold onto his thighs. Wet gagging sounds filled the room while he fucked your face, you felt his muscles tense under your fingertips and you looked up at him with tear filled eyes. “What a messy girl, such a fucking mess and all for me. You’ve just been dying for this haven’t you? Of course you have, cock hungry whores like you just need cock down your throat, you need it more than oxygen.”

His heavy balls slapped against your chin as he started thrusting faster, your gags just spurred him on further. His hips snap against your face and guttural groans and borderline growls leave his lips. “Fuck, doing so good for me. Just a perfect slut for me.” He moved his hands to the back of your head and held you in place, your nose pressed right against his pubic hair. More tears and saliva coated your face as he held you and it became tougher to breathe through your nose. Just as you were about to start tapping his thighs he pulled you off his cock. Tendrils of spit connected your mouth to his cock while you greedily sucked up air. Your chest heaved and he leaned down to grip your spit covered chin, lifting your head up to meet his eyes. “Get on the bed, I want you on all fours facing your bookshelf. I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll forget your name.”

You felt your pussy clench around nothing at his words and you quickly got into position. He moved behind you and leaned down while his calloused hands gripped your ass cheeks and spread them. He groaned at the sight of your wet pussy, watching how it clenched around nothing, practically begging him to force his cock inside. He spit on your clenching hole and got up, “please, I need your cock.” Your voice was all whiny and pitiful for him, you needed him so badly, you didn’t know how much longer you could wait.

But he had been waiting even longer for this moment. He gripped your hip tightly with one hand while the other was wrapped around his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. In one quick snap of his hips, he was buried inside you. The slight pain from the stretch was beyond pleasurable and the head of his cock was nuzzled against your g spot. Your body trembled underneath his and your back arched as your orgasm washed over you. “Fuck, just like a true cock slut, instantly cumming on my cock.” He gave you no time to recover before he started snapping his hips against yours, his hips hitting your ass roughly.

“Please! ‘S too much!” Your words were slurred as you weakly tried to bring one hand back to try to slow him down. He laughed at your effort and moved one of his hands to grip one of your shoulders to easily lift you up and his other hand moved to the side of your face, hooking two of his fingers into your mouth like a fishhook. “All you’re doing is whining when you should be crying out my name like a good fucktoy.” He groans out and snaps his hips against yours faster and harder. Your cries fill the room and he leans in to bite down along your back, leaving imprints of his teeth in his wake. “God, such a tight pussy being stretched out by my cock.” He groaned while all you could do was let out slurred babbles and whines of his name. More drool seeped from your mouth and your pussy got even slicker with each heavy thrust.

As he continued thrusting, you started losing track of how many orgasms he ripped out of you. You were being overstimulated by his thick cock each time it brushed along your walls. Your hands weakly gripped at the sheets underneath you, trying to keep yourself up but thanks to the grip on your shoulder, he was able to keep you held up. He snaked his hand over from your shoulder to your neck to hold you closer to him, just so his mouth was right by your ear. “Say hi to Raichi sweetheart, make sure you look at the bear with those pretty, empty eyes.” You clenched around his cock at his words but you couldn’t make proper sense of it. “Oh you poor dumb thing, I bet your little head is working overtime to make sense of it. I’ll break it down so you can understand, there’s a camera in the bear. The camera leads to a live footage that both Raichi and I can access. We’ve seen all the things you’ve done when you thought you were alone. Watched how you lotion your body after every shower, seen all your little ‘private’ fashion shows, watched how you’ve plunged that pathetic toy into this sloppy cunt. You’ve been our own private cam girl without even knowing, such a naive little thing. Now, Raichi is going to watch the pretty faces you make when you get filled with my cum.”

He turned his head to bite down on the crook of your neck, the action ripping another orgasm out of you and his hips snapped into yours even harder. You were practically limp in his hold at this point, all the orgasms he gave you making you weak. After a few hard thrusts he growled in your ear, cumming deep inside you. Your pussy milked his cock for all his cum and your chest heaved with each heavy breath.

“You did so good for me, took my cock like a fucking pro.” You just hummed in response to his words and he slowly pulled out of you so he could lay you down on the bed. You felt a bit cold without the warmth of his body and looked at him with half lidded eyes as he stood up. “Can we cuddle?” Your words were spoken barely above a whisper and he leaned down to kiss your lips then your temple. “Of course, let me just grab some water okay?”

You nodded and lifted your hands to rub at your eyes, walking the line between consciousness and unconsciousness as the exhaustion took over your body. He smiled down at you and walked over to grab his phone, opening up the text thread between him and Raichi and sent one message: “hope you enjoyed the show.”

taglist (link in navi): @litepowee @fuwushiguro (bc he’s your fav)

#venushits4k #blue lock smut #bllk smut #kunigami smut #kunigami rensuke smut #tw:noncon element #tw:dumbification #tw:overstimulation #tw:creampie #tw:unprotected sex #tw:degradation #tw:spit #tw:exhibitionism

[inkyajax]

*°:⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 + 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⋆:°*

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

#𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬  ⋆ me chattering on to myself ehehe

#𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 ⋆ any ask i answer!

#𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲.𝐛𝐛 ⋆ anon asks!

#𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ⋆ any post that updates you on what i’ve been doing!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

common triggering topics you may come across on my blog include (but are not limited to):

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

dubcon ⋆ #tw:dubcon

somnophilia ⋆ #tw:somnophilia

dacryphilia ⋆ #tw:dacryphilia

degradation/dumbification ⋆ #tw:degradation, #tw:dumbification

daddy kink (sometimes with a ddlg type dynamic (aka a condescending caregiver type vibe) ⋆ #tw:daddy kink

spanking ⋆ #tw:spanking

marking (bruises, hickeys, scratches, bites) ⋆ #tw:marking

size kink/size difference ⋆ #tw:size kink

rough sex ⋆ #tw:rough sex

minimal prep ⋆ #tw:minimal prep

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

murder ⋆ #tw:murder

slight yandere ⋆ #tw:yandere

toxic relationships (manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, patronization/condescension, extreme control, etc) ⋆ #tw:toxic relationship

age gaps between consenting adults ⋆ #tw:age gap

pseudocest (aka incest between adopted siblings, big brother x little sister ONLY) ⋆ #tw:pseudocest

organized crime ⋆ #tw:organized crime

drugs/drug addiction ⋆ #tw:drugs

cheating ⋆ #tw:cheating

blood ⋆ #tw:blood

if any of the topics mentioned above make you uncomfortable or upset, please filter the appropriate tags or block me! your safety and enjoyment should be of utmost concern, and it is your responsibility to curate your online space and online experience accordingly. stay safe <3

with that being said, here is a list of 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:

anal/pegging

femdom | mommy kink

pedophilia

beastiality

pet play | hybrids

age play

lactation

water sports | scat | vomit

eating disorders

full blood incest | any incest that isn’t big bro x lil sis (dad x daughter, uncle x niece, etc)

#inky.tag index

[ghoultramp]

study buddies [sukuna x reader] {req}

▷       jjk

↳ pairing: sukuna x f!reader

↳ content: { request fic } - dom!sukuna, subby!reader, curvy&soft!reader, college!au, dubcon, choking, spitting, marking (biting, scratching), dacryphilia, degradation (?), breath play (?),  a sprinkle of praise (as a treat), nicknames for reader (princess, babygirl)

↳ words: 4.7k

⇢ summary: sukuna’s a little fed up of yuji having you all the fun with you, so when yuji suggests you should take a break from studying, sukuna decides it’s the perfect opportunity to have a taste of yuji’s little princess.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: request for nemi; i’m so sorry it took so long to get around to this but i hope this makes up for the wait! a huge thank you for being my partner in crime on this and for some of the fantastic ideas you shared.

Yuji had been grumbling at his textbook for the better part of ten minutes before you peered over the top of yours. While he lay chest down on the floor, your legs were lazily propped over the small of his back. Your own back was supported by a pillow against your bed frame, comfortable enough, but you were starting to ache. Yuji wittered beneath his breath, he looked sweet when he tried to concentrate; his eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, but it was the way his tongue poked over his top lip that made you giggle.

“Stop,” he groaned, “this is hard.”

You cleared your throat as you closed your book, placing it on your lap.

“Which question is it now?” you asked, lifting your legs off him.

He grumbled incoherently, flipping the same page back and forth. You shook your head and shuffled next to him, straightening out your skirt as you brought your knees together to retain some modicum of decency. You leaned your weight against your left hand and softly patted Yuji’s head with the other.

“Uhm,” he mumbled, “still on the first one…?”

“Yuji-Kun,” you sighed, “have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

He looked at you through his peripheral vision while his mouth fought against a nervous smirk. You playfully tapped him against the side of the head. Yuji feigned injury, holding his head and rolling onto his back; you were trying so hard not to laugh as he rolled about, wailing dramatically.

“You’re such a baby,” you told him, throwing the textbook to the side.

You watched as he stopped and spread his limbs out like a starfish, he turned his head in your direction.

“Says the little Princess,” he retorted, he flashed a grin when your cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

He loved rendering your speechless with the utterance of a single word. To everyone on the outside, you and Yuji were this cute, Hallmark-movie, high-school sweetheart-type couple, barely even kissed, blushing at the sweet whispers you exchanged; how wrong they were.

Those sweet whispers that made you blush wildly were due to Yuji sharing with you his demands for you that evening—because you would always be his good Babygirl, his good little Princess. They would never see him grope you beneath the lecture hall desks, purposefully dragging you to the back. He’d ignore you as you cried into the sleeve of your sweater while his fingers fiddled with your sensitive little bud behind your underwear.

He rolled onto his side to prop his head up with his hand, you brought your hands up to cover your flushed cheeks.

“Hey,” he was trying not to laugh, finding your bashfulness absurdly loveable, “why don’t we take a break?”

A squeak escaped through the fingers of the hand that covered your mouth. Yuji awkwardly shifted onto his hands and knees, crawling toward you. When he sat up next to you, he swung his legs around to place them on either side of you; trapping you between him and the bed frame.

“Now who’s the baby?” he cooed, teasing you more by poking your hands playfully.

He laughed at your attempt to look annoyed, it was wasted. You resigned, watching as he began to lean into you, his hand pressed against the back of your head and his lips brushed against your ear.

“Or should I say,” his whisper was a low growl, “Babygirl?”

 “Yuuuuuji,” you were whining as you squirmed between his legs, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

The warm breath expelled by his chuckle brushed against your neck. You felt the grip he held on the back of your head fall to your wrists, you didn’t fight him as he pulled your hands from your face. You knew he got off on how bashful you always were, and maybe you played into that a little, he felt the hot flush of your cheeks radiate against him.

He could devour you so easily.

You felt a thumb press hard against your chin, pushing your head right back. A pitiful laboured noise escaped your mouth, now pushing his palm against your throat. It wasn’t quite enough pressure to stop you from breathing, but enough to cause you discomfort. Enough to satisfy him. For the moment, at least.

“…ji,” you were fortunate enough to be able to squeeze the last syllable of his name.

Using his free hand, he kneaded at the delicious pudge of skin that poked out above your slightly-too-tight thigh-high socks. They were just a part of one of your many little uniforms reserved only for Yuji, and today was one of his favourites; a just-tight-enough shirt opened enough for your delicate, frilly lingerie—of his choosing, of course—to peek out, paired with a simple, pleated skirt.

You were ever so grateful when he lightened the pressure on your larynx, allowing you to urgently drag in a deep breath. But it was mere seconds before you were gasping and panting, succumbing to his will as his fingers pressed gently against the damp cotton of your panties.

“Finally,” you heard him say, the lowered tone of his voice triggered your flight response.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered.

“Yuji’s not home right now, Princess,” he declared, “it’s not fair that he gets to have all the fun anyway.”

“Su-Sukuna, please,” you whined, tilting your pelvis back in an attempt to escape his roaming fingers, he only pressed against you harder.

“Why don’t you let me take you for a ride, babygirl,” as he said it, he dragged his finger downward, following your sweet, little slit beneath your underwear.

“You p-promised you wouldn’t,” if it wasn’t for the fact that Sukuna was so close to you, he never would have heard your feeble pleas.

“We all promise things we don’t really mean,” he groaned, removing his hand on your throat.

Sukuna smirked all the while you gasped for air—once again—and then whimpered, the focus in your sight made everything soft, your head felt full of cotton wool. Sukuna sniggered, the dumb, heavy-lidded look on your pretty, little face was nothing less than perfection. He pressed his fingers a slightly bit harder against your clit, inhaling sharply when he pulled strangled little mewls from behind your slightly parted lips.

Sukuna was more than a little fond of Yuji’s choice of mate, he’d been waiting far too long for this opportunity and he wasn’t going to squander it.

He was going to savour every moment.

“Let’s see,” Sukuna contemplated, relieving your clit of his fingers. He’d want you to beg for it, prove just how much of a needy little whore you really were; he’d have you screaming his name soon enough.

You whined at him as his hands crept along the outsides of your thighs, under your skirt, grabbing hold of your shapely hips. He ignored your cries while he pulled you toward him, your skirt now ruched above your waist.

“C’mere,” he grunted, jostling you with some force when you didn’t move quick enough for him.

From your position—your head now propped where your back had been, Sukuna suspending your arse with his large hands—you could almost pretend that it was still Yuji. It was still his body after all, right? Your eyes passed over the dark lines that only Sukuna had—you always thought they looked like tattoos—and the closed, second set of eyes. Those eyes unnerved you, scared you. You dropped your gaze.

You didn’t ever think you’d have to face this situation, Yuji had reassured you time and time again that he had control of Sukuna, that he wouldn’t be able to take over when things got hot and heavy between the both of you. Now, you supposed Sukuna had lied about being compliant the entire time.

Sukuna continued, “I demand a taste of this—“ he yanked your underwear down your thighs, pulling a little too hard on the waistband, “—sweet fucking cunny.”

Dumbfounded, you were only able to watch him with curious, wide eyes as he moved your legs to benefit him while he struggled to remove your underwear. He was clearly getting impatient, throwing your soaked underwear over his head and across the other side of the room.

Sukuna let out a long, deep moan, as he shuffled himself back. He brought your legs down, pressing his muscular upper-arms against the back of your thighs; this was his way of stabilising you while having both of his hands free.

With his biceps pushing into your thighs, you yelped as your neck was forced into an uncomfortable position. The top of your head pressed against the base of the bed while your ear squashed into your shoulder; you scrambled to hoist yourself up, pushing your palms against the floor.

“Ah-ah,” he growled, yanking you down by the hips.

Sukuna mumbled something, you may not have been able to hear it, but your widely spread cunt certainly felt him say something. He brought the index finger of his right hand up to hover just out of reach of your presenting hole; raising his gaze to catch you looking at him--your chest heaving with your gulping breaths, your eyes almost entirely closed, with your tongue gently lolled out over your bottom lip--he certainly hadn’t expected you to submit to him like this so easily.

“I can see why Yuji likes you,” Sukuna mused, you gasped loudly when his thick finger penetrated you for the first time, “a needy little bitch in heat, like you?”

He let out a satisfied groan as you convulsed against him, nowhere for you to go as he twisted his finger, left to right and back again, fucking you with little care as his thrusts became almost violent. You cried out when he began to hit his palm quite forcefully against your clit with each thrust of his finger; Sukuna’s dark eyes glared up at you, his thick brows pulling together in the middle of his brow while he snarled at you.

You really were trapped.

“I happen to know you like it rough,” he was smirking, the loud, wet sound that came from between your legs as he removed his finger with a yank make you shrink beneath him.

“But, let’s get one thing straight,” he continued, moaning while he sucked at your sweet juices that soaked his finger, “your little Yuji-Kun won’t ever compare to a demon,” Sukuna watched the panic set in your eyes, felt your thighs shaking against his arms as he angled you up.

“It’ll be so delightful and easy, making you teeter on that edge,” he snarled, “between pain and pleasure until I see fit.”

You yelped uncomfortably when the pad of his heavy thumb pressed into your clit; you heard him chuckle above your cries, pressing against it harder. Sukuna pursed his lips against your inner thigh. You felt his smirk against your skin when his thumb quickly shifted from your clit to your hole; it was without warning, your slick allowing him to pull in and out with ease. But the intrusion made you shudder, followed closely by an uncontainable wail.

“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, talking into your thigh, “you’re going to make over-stimming you so much fucking fun.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” it was a pitiful attempt at finding your voice.

Sukuna either couldn’t hear you or at the very least, he didn’t want to hear you. He dragged his tongue along your delicate skin, playfully nipping at you every few inches.

Oh, how it amused him when you squirmed, afraid of his real bite, perhaps? The thought excited him.

You continued to whimper while Sukuna roamed your thighs, but when he flicked the tip of his tongue across your clit—fucking you with his thumb, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your arsecheeks—you brought your hand to your face, biting down on the flesh of your wrist.

Sukuna ignored you, giving attention to your throbbing clit, using his free hand to spread your lips just a bit more, enough for him to sink his lips down and around you. He loved when you made those whiny, little bleats—so pathetic, so fucking easy.

But, no, this wasn’t enough for Sukuna. He jerked his thumb out—your walls quivered around the empty space—and replaced it with his tongue; he groaned loudly as he sloppily lapped at your dripping, wet cunt.

Crying into your hand, still biting down on your already raw flesh, you felt the pull of your hips, ready to spasm with the release that was building up within your core. Sukuna masterfully worked his way around your insides, tensing the tip of his tongue to satisfy that sweet spot within you.

“Cum for me, Princess,” his deep voice was cast even lower as he growled as he spoke those words, commanding you; you felt a pressure within your pelvis vibrate and coil.

A pretty, choked sob found its way behind your lips as you relaxed your head to the side. The arm you had been using to silence yourself came down on Sukuna’s head so hard he scratched at your outer thigh; that would surely leave a mark. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the thought excited you, you wanted him to hurt you.

Sukuna seemed frustrated when you didn’t obey his demand.

“I said fucking cum for me, Princess,” he snarled, firmly placing his hands on either side of your arse. You gasped, feeling the sting of him driving the points of his nails into your flesh. “I won’t hesitate to hurt you, y’know,” he continued in between tending to your soft, little cunt, “but I get the feeling you’d—“ he huffed, driving his nails into you, eliciting a strangled, wailing moan from your lips, “—like it.”

A whimpering, twitching mess was all you were beneath Sukuna’s grip. You heard the sloppy, wet noises combining with his hungry moans, tasting as much of you as he possibly could. Leaning back onto his knees, Sukuna noticed the bright flush in your cheeks.

“Sweet, little thing,” he laughed, “look, she’s embarrassed.”

Sukuna delighted in having you as his play-thing, but he wasn’t quite done with you yet. While he stared at you with his impossibly dark eyes, you heard the distinct jostling of a belt being undone; you heard it land with a thud when he discarded it to the side, triggering your body to shudder once more.

He wasn’t impressed with you when you lowered your gaze away.

“No, no, no,” he chuckled, “you will return the favour, Babygirl.”

Your heart beat wildly against your chest, your breathing was nothing but desperate, clamouring gasps as he hoisted you by your hair. Your protesting cries meant nothing to him as he effortlessly pulled you to your knees and the sight of your eyes brimming with tears amused him all the more.

“You’d do it for him, wouldn’t you?” he gave an inflection to his voice, trying to mimic Yuji’s, “It’s still his body, right?”

Sukuna’s grip on your hair tightened while he fiddled with the zip of his trousers, you felt helpless, watching as he relieved his thick, hard cock from its clothed prison. It was Yuji’s body, but like this—when Sukuna felt the need to barge his way in—it was his, not Yuji’s.

“Isn’t it?” he spat, pushing you down toward his crotch, cock in hand.

You may have been too shocked to form words, disjoined syllables tumbling from your lips, but not shocked enough to resist him. You didn’t recoil when your lips pressed against the swollen, wet head of his cock, as he brushed his pre-cum across your lips. In fact, you were eager, Sukuna laughed when you parted your lips, ready to receive him.

“See, it’s not that bad, is it?” he mused as he tugged your head back to look up at him.

You heard him stifle a low growl, looking up at him with your pretty, glassy eyes and your puffy, pink lips.

Whining at him as you placed your hands on either side of his muscular thighs, you were a desperate little pet eager for master’s attention. You didn’t care that he held your weight by your hair, it didn’t matter that it hurt. You didn’t care how aggressive he was; it didn’t matter when it felt this good.

“That’s it,” his smile was devilish, allowing you to lower your head into his lap on your own terms.

When you moved Sukuna’s hand away from his cock, he let out a chortle that made your heart flutter. He was gentle while you teased the aching head of his cock. You were ever so pleased with yourself when you pulled guttural, feral moans from his lips; it was your turn to tease Sukuna. For however long he might allow it, that was.

Which wasn’t long at all, it would seem.

Sukuna was impatient and you were taking far too long, he wanted his dick rammed as far down your throat as he could, and he would. He wasn’t being gentle now, not when he pushed your head down onto him. When you let out a surprised yelp, he took the opportunity to take advantage.

“Fuck,” he hissed while you gagged on the intrusion of his length.

Your throat felt raw, there was no niceness about him now as he held you down. You were sure he would be smirking as you convulsed within his grip, feebly attempting to push against his tensed thighs with very little effect. Yuji might be rough with you, but Sukuna was on a different level, and you quickly understood just how utterly useless any and all attempts to save yourself would be.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and you knew—for certain—that someone was going to be you.

You closed your eyes and held onto his thighs so tight your knuckles turned white; it was the only thing you could do to distract yourself at that moment. The tears he’d forced from your eyes dripped onto your chest with your clumsy movements. You let out a wail of relief when he pulled you away, even just for a moment, it was welcomed.

"There's a good girl," he grunted, admiring the spit that dribbled down your chin, "there's my good little Princess."

Your moan at his words was cut off by a cruel shove of his hand; you gagged under the duress of him ramming into the back of your throat. He didn't care that you choked and spluttered beneath him, in fact, you knew it excited him; the way his cock twitched with each uncomfortable noise you made told you everything.

Every bone in your body screamed at you to submit to him, you would hope it would be less humiliating than this. Sukuna was surprised when you fell limp within his grasp and jerked you back once more.

“I wasn’t sure I’d break you so easily,” he chuckled, raising his free hand to your tear-stricken face.

You shuddered when his thumb stroked away at your wet cheek. You kept your eyes closed as his hand snaked its way across your face and down to your mouth. He tightened his grip on your hair as he held down hard with his other hand.

Your eyes darted open, Sukuna was a God looking down upon a mere mortal.

He hissed, you felt a heavy pressure against your lips as he used his hand to push you back against the pillow still propped against the bed. He was quick, untangling his hand from your hair to rest it on your inner thigh. He was laughing as his fingers tightened around your thigh, claws pinching at your flesh.

“Open wide, Babygirl,” baring his teeth at you, he looked maniacal, his hulking shape looming over you.

You sobbed helplessly as the mouth on his palm opened up, summoning a tongue that successfully infiltrated your mouth with very little effort. He laughed as your pretty, flushed face twisted, breathing frantically through your nose.

You were unable to make out the words he growled while he dragged his claws along the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The games he’d played with your throat, and consequently your oxygen, had dulled your senses—all except the ones that mattered, of course.

The bottom of his palm hit hard against your abused clit and your eyes widened with realisation. Sukuna smirked, both hands pressing so impossibly hard against both sets of your lips as he leaned into you.

“Just a little more,” he growled, “and then you’ll be ready for me.”

There was no time to think before the hand at your mouth pushed your head back, the finger and thumb on either side of your nostrils were dangerously close to completely restricting your airflow. Another tongue infiltrated your aching hole, he laughed at you as you convulsed beneath him. He allowed you to shake your head from side to side but nothing more, he found your efforts at yet another struggle tempting.

Your hips bucked defiantly beneath his hand as he bore against you. You whimpered against the tongue at your mouth as the one inside your twitching hole tickled against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna brought his face down impossibly close to yours, now gently grinding his palm against your clit; the only thing you felt were tight shocks that battered away within your core.

Sukuna gripped your face with his fingers, careless as his claws almost scratched at your face. When your head was brought up to meet him, your noses touched. It was unnerving.

You felt Sukuna’s tongues retreat. You were conflicted when you felt the gnawing ache of emptiness that was left behind. Formulating thoughts seemed impossible, coherency was nowhere to be found. With heavy-lidded eyes, you lazily watched as Sukuna knelt back.

It was cute, the way you opened your legs even wider for him. It wasn’t enough for Sukuna, nothing ever seemed enough for Sukuna. You felt his clawed hands grip the underside of your tender thighs; your breath shuddered, feeling the wet head of his cock bump against your widened hole.

“Good girl,” he breathed, “open wide.”

There was no other warning than his words as he shunted his hips forward, you moaned low in your throat—a strangled, feral noise—as your dripping wet cunt enveloped his throbbing length with very little ease.

“See,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your thighs, “I can be kind—“ he pulled his entire length, your hole quivered at the empty space, “—when I want to be.”

You wailed as he bottomed out against you, digging his claws into your flesh hard enough to draw blood as he frantically thrust. He’d been patient long enough but, while you’d been a good girl and indulged him, playtime was over.

Your head whirled and your limbs were numb. The only nerves that you felt any connection to were the ones in your pussy, the ones that made it possible to feel every protruding vein of his achingly hard cock The nerves that made it possible to feel every twitch it made as Sukuna put all his weight into you. He grunted, pushing back on your thighs, you yelped when he folded them against your stomach.

Sukuna delighted in hearing the moan you gave him after yet another deep, unrelenting thrust, his pelvis grinding roughly against your clit. You found yourself unraveling beneath him, you no longer felt within your own body.

“Yuji,” you mewled.

It was an easy mistake to make, a mistake that Sukuna did not appreciate. He laughed down at you as he picked up his pace. An unrelenting pace that shunted your body with each and every thrust. A pace that made you see stars.

“Silly little bitch,” he growled, spitting on your cheek, he was surprised when you let out a gasp of arousal, “say my name.”

He watched you convulse beneath him, felt you writhe and twist in his arms. It was delicious. The way your cunt clamped on his cock, tighter and tighter, and harder and harder until your cervix felt bruised.

“You’re mine right now, Princess,” he told you breathlessly, “Say it.”

You felt his spit hit your face again and your pelvis tightened. Things like that were supposed to feel this good, and for a brief moment, an internal struggle between arousal and embarrassment took place. Your arousal when Sukuna spoke.

“Say my fucking name,” was his final demand, but you could only cry out nonsense, “Say it!”

“Su-Sukuna!” you cried, obliged to obey him.

You were rewarded with the relief of Sukuna removing one of his hands from your thighs, too fucked-out to move—or care—your leg still rested against your stomach. He bared his teeth and brought his hand back; you were astonished that he never lost his momentum. 

He grunted as he breathed.

“That’s right,” his voice began to waver, close to his own climax, “good girl.”

You could almost believe you weren’t just a piece of meat to him, the way his tongue wrapped around the words he used could make anyone feel special. But you were rudely reminded this was Sukuna, not Yuji, when his swung-back hand collided with your thigh.

The Earth itself could have shattered at that very moment, and all you’d feel would be him; you thought yourself lucky enough to remember your name.

“Good—“ he grunted against your arching hips, begging for more you couldn’t possibly take, “—girl.”

Sukuna juddered on top of you, within you, while his claws made their final assault on your skin, while he buried himself as deep within you as possible. You writhed and mewled beneath him, your hands grasped at the carpet, desperate to hold onto something while the pressure of his hot cum filling your battered cunt overwhelmed you.

There was a faint sting that broke through the pleasure as he continued to roll his hips against you, gently for the time being, now that he was spent.

It astonished you how quickly his breathing returned to normal while you struggled to draw any breaths that felt satisfying, still recoiling and twitching. You could speak only broken gibberish.

Sukuna lowered your legs, you wished he’d more gentle; you winced as your hip joints creaked having been forced into such an uncompromising position. You felt the weight of his chest press against yours and his nose nuzzled gently against the crook of your neck.

There was a tense moment as you lay under him as your senses regained consciousness.

“Yu-Yuji?” you whimpered, tears threatened the edges of your eyes.

The pretty pink man who lay on top of you let out an angered growl, the hands that tightened around your wrists no longer had claws; there was care in the grip.

“I’ll kill him,” you heard him growl, his grip tightening.

“Yuji I’m—“ he didn’t leave you room to finish as he lifted his head, gazing down at you with furrowed eyebrows and bold, dark eyes.

“But first,” he told you, looking down at the mess between where your bodies connected, “it looks like I have to punish you first.”

He looked back to you—was he enjoying this?—and cast a dirty smirk at you.

“Because despite what Sukuna may think or say,” he continued, looming closer to you, his cock twitching with every word, “you haven’t been a good girl, have you, Princess?”

Your lips may have been moving but your voice was inaudible.

“You can thank Sukuna for one thing though, Princess,” he growled, nipping at your neck.

His voice broke when he deliberately moaned in your ear, a sound that made you squirm with delight.

“There’s no more holding back,” was the last thing he said before raising your arms above your head and locking his teeth to your neck.

#fanfic #jjk fanfic #sukuna fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna smut #yuji itadori #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #tw:domsub #tw:dubcon #tw:choking #tw:shpitting #tw:marking #tw:biting #tw:scratching #tw:dacryphilia #tw:degradation #tw:breath play #reader has petnames

[iconographic-propaganda]

A POSTMORTEM ANATOMICAL STUDY "BLOOD MONEY"

A POSTMORTEM ANATOMICAL STUDY "BLOOD MONEY"

I HAVE SEEN YOU LYING IN WAIT

WE WERE WELCOME TO YOU

YOUR FORUMS YOUR NOVEAU CITIES YOUR PORN YOUR FETISH YOUR MARK ON THE MIND OF MAN COLLECTIVE, MEMETIC INOCULATION- IDEAS INSTILLED

A corruptive force, I've seen your fetish, marked and cast and burnt blind by your hivemind seizure.

You are a cancer, a modern mutation and cat images tumorized, deep fried and categorized and saved forever on old hard drive.

I've seen your degeneracy, I am born of it- Every paw picture, every ingrown toenail and every cheesegrated asshole, every sheath and bad dragon, every spin of meat and fluffy pushed into shredder.

And I've seen back then, the honey-nut website with mummy flash game, logging without parent's permission- before the dot com kid website pleaded you to fill your cart, before your miniclip turned to mobile saccharine drip feed

Why can't we let go?

I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU OPT OUT

THERE IS NOTHING BETTER ANYMORE

I BET YOU LOVE YOUR GENTRIFIED STREETS, TWINKLING BLINKIES AND .JPGS TURNED SANITIZED BULLSHIT NOTHING

READ FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND PAGES FOR A RECIPE DICTATING WHAT YOU SHOULD BUY

WE'RE REMOVING ADBLOCKERS FROM GOOGLE

INSERT CASH OR SELECT PAYMENT TYPE, WHAT'S YOUR GENDER? WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING, HOW WOULD YOU RATE OUR SERVICE- WE ARE CHANGING THE LAYOUT.

You can't post that here, or there- or anywhere.

Did you even read the content policy? THINK OF THE CHILDREN!

what are those kids doing? keep an eye on them, check their logins- tag it as a bill, shoot it to the cops.

We won't let you get away with that, if we let you be immoral everyone else would do it.

Who even does that shit anymore?

You have nothing to hide, what are you? A commie? a queer? an anarchist or nazi, a piece of shit?

Here, have some DRM, what do you mean it runs slow? We're releasing it early because the developers died while crunching on it for seven years straight

USE OUR APP ITS BETTER IN THE APP USE OUR APP IS BETTER IN THE APP

You want to curate your content? Fuck you. Scroll.

I want you to feel our collective hands against your neck, can you feel your hands getting tighter?

We tied our funds around them- your fingers are turning purple- you can't feel your eyes? That's a new feature.

You clicked "Accept", we're sending your information under review

Don't like it?

Contact support.

I'm sorry, that service is unavailable- please, call us.

Wednesdays at 7:35AM - 8:15AM, Not on weekends or Tuesdays.

Fridays at 9:45pm - 9:45pm

We'll sew your dick shut for 3.99 a month and pry it back open for 4.99.

#tw:blood #tw:gore #tw: paranoia #tw:degradation #art #digitalart #digital art #collage #collageart #digitalcollage #digital collage #photoshop #writing

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Immortal - 4 (kinktober)

Dabi - Branding

AFAB reader

Warnings: 18+(minors dni), noncon, degradation, branding, spanking, pain, not edited

Word count: 2, 664

Masterlist

Previous | Part 4 | Next

You stared down at the mess on your stomach. Hot white spattered all over it.

Midoriya saw your concern. He turned to the window and reached up for the curtain rings. He removed it and handed the cloth to you.

"Thanks."

You did your best to wipe it up. Should you wipe it off into something? Was there anything to put it into? Or did you just have to try to pick it up and fold it in the curtain. Your eyebrows lifted in a sudden realization.

"Can that window open?" You asked.

"Yeah."

He turned to the large window and fumbled with a latch you hadn’t noticed before. With a click, he pulled it open. You slid off the desk and stood with the curtain cupping the mess. You awkwardly tried to partly sit on the small ledge, with the majority of the curtain on the floor, and turn your body enough to wipe the cum off and into the void below. Then you began to think.

"Do you know the way out of this mansion?"

He froze. Seemingly stunned by your question. For a moment, his eyes were distant, as if watching a memory.

"I mean, you had an entire piece of paper where you were trying to figure it out."

You finished getting the substance off of your stomach. The end of the curtain you used was disgusting, sticky, wet, and smeared white all over it. You flicked it out the window, but only truly succeeded at getting some onto the side of the mansion too.

He blinked and the distant look was gone.

"Yeah." He absentmindedly tapped his finger against his chin. His eyes drifted to the floor.

Your heart danced in your chest. A weight disappeared you didn't know was there.

It was then you realized you still had nothing on your lower half. You grabbed your clothes, and began to put them back on.

"So, can you help me get out?"

His face lit up. "Sure! Anything I can do to help." He did the same thing as before, once again deep in thought.

"Is something wrong?" You finished buttoning your pants. Then something occurred to you. Your face fell. "Wait. If you knew how to get out, why haven't you-?"

The sound of footsteps caught your ear. Your blood went cold. Your head whipped in all directions, you ducked underneath the desk, but hesitated. Was it too obvious? If you were found, you'd be trapped.

"What's wrong?" His eyebrows creased. His arms slightly held out as if subconsciously preparing to protect you.

"I'm worried that's one of the villains,"

"Villains!"

"Yeah! I'm sorry, they might have followed me in, or maybe I was just unlucky, actually- What are you doing?" You asked before you could fully remember it wasn't your fault.

"Looking for something to make a trap with." He smiled. He fiddled with a mess of ropes for a second and held it out to show you.

"A net?"

"Yes! To catch the villain! C'mon, help me, get the trip cord in that drawer."

You scrambled to help him. Finding the chord, laying it out and holding it while he tied it down. Your head was spinning somewhat, but in less than five minutes it was ready. A trip cord attached to pulleys and a net on the floor.

"Wow. You're really g-"

"Hide. In the other room."

Without another thought, you dashed to the other door and through it. You gently closed it behind you. You immediately searched for a hiding spot. What if the trap didn't work? Either way, simply being separated by a wall didn't comfort you. You ran for the dining table, prepared to move a chair aside to hide under.

At least you were about to do that, but not even a second after you broke into a run, you hit something. Something firm, yet somewhat soft. You fell backwards, almost hitting your head on the narrow table against the wall. You winced from the sudden impact. Thankfully, another rug absorbed some of the shock. Yet, the back of your head did still not take kindly to being bumped so hard. You looked up to where it would be.

There was nothing there. But you had to have hit something. In fact, now that you thought about it, whatever it was felt an awful lot like running into a person.

You squinted and glared at the empty space. “Who’s there? I know you’re there,” you did your best to keep your voice strong, but quiet.

You stood your ground. Your legs parted and bent, and your hands clenched into claws ready to grab anyone charging toward you or jab someone in the eyes. The stance also boosted your confidence.

A few seconds. Nothing.

“Answer. Me,” your growled.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe you actually partly expected it, but you couldn’t help but be shocked when someone suddenly appeared in front of you. He faded into vision. A man with long black hair that nearly covered his face. He didn’t meet your gaze, rather staring at the floor. He shrunk into himself with his hands close to his chest. His lips were pressed into a tight line.

You made eye contact for a millisecond before he looked away once again.

You tensed and stepped back. “Who are you? How-? Wait…” You stared at him more closely. “Suneater!? This is where you’ve been the past year!? Is every missing hero in this place!?!"

“A year?” his voice was quiet and shaking, “It f-felt like a lot longer than that.”

You opened your mouth, about to speak, when suddenly a large BAM sounded from the next room over. The one Midoriya and the trap was in. Then there was a scream. Not of pain, but of rage.

You and Amajiki looked to each other before scrambling to hide. You got onto the other side of the table and crouched down. He did so too, then suddenly vanished once more. You had just remembered you could pull a chair out and try to get under the table, but it was too late by then.

Bam! BAM! The door flew off its hinges with a flash of electric blue light. You couldn’t see much of where you were, but you did your best gazing through the chair legs. Where the door had landed, Midoriya jumped back, radiating a blue light. Someone, probably the villain, stood in the exact same spot. Your position, you did notice that the skin above his shoe was charred, or burnt. He held his chest and coughed.

"Surrender!" Midoriya cried.

"Just leave me alone, crazy," the villain said. His voice was deep and gravelly.

A large blue flame went up in the air towards Midoriya. Wait, this was…

Midoriya sprang forward and the villain jumped onto the table and out of the way.

Dabi's eyes and yours locked together. A deep blue staring into yours, like he had just found the thing he was looking for. It was too late to hide.

You frantically crawled away and tried to get to your feet. You tried to grab at the pen in your pocket you only remember just then. But it was no use. You felt a hand tug at the back of your shirt and pull you up, back against his chest, and a hand on your throat.

Midoriya's face went pale. "Don't you hurt-!"

"Or what?" You could hear the smirk in his voice. "What are you going to do?"

Midoriya shuffled back, trying to keep his face strong. His hands were clenched into fists.

"You can't do anything, because the second you try, this little thing is going to get a pretty burn on the neck. Or worse." He placed the other hand on your jaw and your neck had never felt for fragile than in that moment.

Dabi placed a kiss on the she'll of your ear. You shivered. A primal, cold, fearful chill down your spine that made you feel cold despite the warmth. Midoriya's eyes flashed and teeth barred. He moved as if about to leap forward, only to remember Dabi's threat.

You wanted to break away. If only you could grab that sharp pen just in your pocket. You wanted to get away from the heat building in his hand and chest. You wanted to get away from him and his disgusting touch and shower until you felt clean again. You wanted to at least squirm and fight back. But you knew he could hurt you and you froze.

You wanted to go home…

Dabi began to back away, still holding onto you, never turning his back to Midoriya. Your beat became uneven. You couldn’t let him get away with you. You frantically searched for a way out. Maybe if you thought for long enough, you'd think of one.

He took his hand off your jaw to open the door. His head just for a moment. That was your chance.

Steeling your nerves, you attempted to push on the arm holding onto you and make a break for it. It worked… for a second. You made a step forward and his hand was off your neck. Midoriya noticed and flashed blue as he prepared to charge forward.

Unfortunately, Dabi noticed.

"Don't!"

He jerked the door open and quickly placed both hands in their previous positions. A surge of heat went through them that made you yelp.

"If you follow me, I'll make sure you and your friend here regrets it."

And with that, vision blurry from sudden tears, you were pulled through the door and it closed. Leaving you alone with Dabi.

He started running and dragged you along with him. You did your best to keep track of where he went, as well as trying to form a plan to get away. At one point, you got your foot caught on something, hoping the sudden forced of you stopping would be enough to let you go, but no such luck.

"You may have helped me get away, but you caused so much trouble for me."

He suddenly threw you against a coffee table. You would have wondered how there were so many tables in this place if it weren't for the fact a homicidal, pyro-maniac villain was right behind you. You scrambled and tried to get away, quickly seeing where this was going. But he was too quick. A scorching hand roughly pushed down on your back. You panicked. If it was that hot through your shirt, you couldn't imagine how much it would burn when he touched your bare skin.

You kicked at him, but all that did was open your legs for him to grope between your legs. You muffled a cry in your throat. You burned with shame that it had actually gotten you wet. With the heat seeping into your parts.

He hooked a finger into your waistband and pulled down. You made a frantic and weak attempt to knock his arm that was holding you down with your elbow. You tried to run, forward and leap over the table. Anything to get away, but his left hand still held onto your shoulder. His tight grip pulled you back and held you in place.

"I wouldn't do that."

You felt the cool air on your hip. With your pants and underwear nearly halfway off your rear, you felt him press a finger against your hip. You didn’t think much of it at first, until it got hotter and hotter and-

You yelped and kicked at him.

He managed to catch your legs and get his on top of yours as he kneeled. He used his elbow to slam you back fully down on the table. The wind was knocked out of you.

"So stay down, or you know what's going to happen."

He finished tugging down your clothes. He placed a warm finger into your folds and teased.

"This wet for me?" He chuckled.

"No!"

"Or was it for that psychotic hero?"

"He is n- Ah!" He shoved a finger into your hole, invading the tight rings of muscles.

"Too bad, I'm going to have to do." He started pumping his finger into you. "Sorry to tell you this," he said, not sounding sorry at all, "but you wound up in the wrong place."

"I didn't even want to be here! Ow!"

Your skin stung and burned from the slap to your cheek. You had to bite your lip to stop from whining and blinking rapidly to not cry. He would only make fun of you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Still got some spunk? Even after everything? I guess I'll have to show you your place and shut you up."

He placed a hand on your thigh. It heated up until you were squirming and trying not to scream. His fing-! two fingers now, we're increasing in temperature as well, though not as much. That had you squirming in a different way.

The fingers left you with a wet slick sound, filling you with relief. Until you heard the sound of a belt being undone. You heard a sigh, or quick breath in, just before you felt something prodding at your puckered hole.

He leaned down to whisper, "How would you like it if I-?" You didn't let him answer.

That was it. With a new-found willpower, you threw your head back and hit him square on the nose. You heard him cry out in pain, bringing you satisfaction and a smile to your face, for the first second.

"That's it, you little brat!"

He pushed his searing finger down and along your skin. Your mouth opened into a scream you couldn’t hold in. It seared to the point your body didn't even notice it was hot, it just felt pain. He slowly trailed down, seemingly to enjoy your pain. You tried to move away and even thrashed involuntarily. Every move you made to get away only had him gripping harder on your wrists and his palm slowly heat up. He stroke he made was torture.

He finally pulled his finger away. It still hurt for the first few seconds. It still ached and burned, like your nerves wouldn't forget what it felt like.

"Look at you. Broken and with my name on you.

Your eyes widened and turned your head to look at the back of your leg. It was hard to see, but you saw enough. Your blood boiled, and began a descent into a rage of fury.

"What the fuck did you do!?!"

His finger was against your lip and you froze. It was wet and you nearly puked from being able to smell yourself on him.

"I think you should keep that pretty little mouth shut."

You felt something warm and hard nudge between your cheeks.

"Maybe I should go in here instead." He applied the slightest bit of pressure.

No no no no no no no no. You unconsciously opened your mouth and he stuck his finger inside. Forcing you to taste him and yourself.

He must have had mercy on you because he began fucking your cunt instead. Jackhammering into you with no regard to how you felt. Until your brain was mush.

"Suck."

You could barely register he command, the word suddenly sounding foreign for a second. He shoved his finger in further and you began to hallow your cheeks.

His thrusts became before wild. It felt like slow motion when he slipped out and went straight into your asshole.

"Oops," he said with a grin.

You felt like screaming as he tightly plunged in. Your body seizing up as he continue to move in and our of you like a fucktoy. He took his finger out of your mouth to grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back.

He said in your ear between thrusts. "And if you think we're almost done, you're dead wrong."

Next

#I personally believe this is the best out of all of these so far #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #dabi x reader #smut #tw:noncon #tw:degradation

[atsumumiya-anon]

*sighing as i flip and move my ass in the air* yes i’m a brat but i’m daddy’s brat :) how many today? 5? 10? i’m pretty sure when we did ten last time it wasn’t even that bad...-🍯

yer a brat alright. a bratty lil pain in the ass. filthy mouth of yers needs ya learn some fuckin manners. *rips yer panties off* open yer fuckin mouth, ya fuckin brat. if yer gonna talk like that i don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it. mouthin off like that, thinkin’ yer in charge. stop yer fuckin’ bitchin’.

ya think yer gettin only 10? dumb lil thing, aintcha. i’m gonna keep goin’ as long as i feel like it. 20? 30? who knows, doll. gonna make yer ass so red it’s burnin. gonna have daddy’s handprints on yer cheeks, sittin’ down is gonna hurt fer a week after i’m done with ya.

#🍯 anon #atsumu mail 💌 #tw:degradation

[dearbraus]

—  Winner Takes it All

Starring; Hange Zoë

Warnings; 18+ minors dni + gn reader + submissive reader + roleplay + consensual predator/prey play + confinement + mention of injuries + collars + light degradation.

Wordcount; 0.5k

Note; Repost from my old blog, been thinking about writing more explicit roleplay scenes like this again :) enjoy <3

"Would you look at that,”

A voice says behind you, footsteps growing louder and louder as they grow near.

“The stupid puppy’s fallen right into my trap.”

Their hot breath hits the back of your neck as they crouch down to your level, nimble fingers running along the curve of your spine as you squirm in your restraints. It wasn’t hard to play the scared little lamb Hange wishes you to be, their genius and full effort put into creating this elaborate trap all so their twisted little fantasy could come to life.

The metal cuff digs into your torso, the cool feel of it making you shiver as you struggle to face Hange. Your neck aches as you try to crane it in their direction to no avail. It makes them laugh, your pathetic display too amusing. You were right where they wanted you and yet, you still thought there was some sort of fighting chance to escape their clutches. Blowing on the shell of your ear, Hange holds their stomach, their head tipping back as they chuckle at you.

“Oh dear,” Hange mutters, “Darling you’re bleeding!” they tsk, tugging at your pant leg to get a better leg of the scrape, “Well lucky for you, you won’t be needing it! Not with what I have in store for you!”

“I won’t?” you question, your hands balling up into fists by your sides, “What are you going to do to me?”

It was stupid of you to ask. You had a crystal clear picture of just what Hange was planning, before tripping and crashing onto the ground you had caught sight of the table just to the left of the contraption you were trapped in. It was line with all sorts of toys, some familiar and others far too intimidating for you to look at. Goosebumps dot along your arms as they hum thoughtfully next to you, a hand that once was considered soothing trailing up and down the length of your arm.

Popping up to their full height, Hange shrugs their shoulders, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” they say, waltzing over to the front of the room, “You’ll just have to wait and see puppy!”

Their scuffed boots enter your field of vision, their slacks stretching over their taut thighs as they crouch in front of you. In their hands lay a black collar with a polished metal ring. A tag with your name engraved into the surface clinked against another tag inscribed “Belongs to Hange”.

“Now I’m gonna free you,” they started, giving your cheek a pinch, “But you have to promise me you won’t run, it won’t be much fun playing with you if you’re all trapped like this,” Hange pouts, “So be a good little pup and stay still.”

You nod your head slowly, your eyes locking with theirs.

“I’ll be good, good for you.”

They smile brightly, their thumb smoothing over your cheek.

“I’m glad!” Hange exclaims, their eyes glinting with mischief, “You and I are going to have so much fun together puppy.”

You shudder at the sickeningly sweet tone of their voice.

“Just you wait.”

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

#hange zoe smut #hange zoe x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk smut #aot smut #aot x you #snk x you #hange zoe x you #cafe employee #planeto🪐 #tw:degradation #tw:collars #tw:roleplay #tw:predator//prey