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ijcimr · 1 year

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Hereditary breast ovarian cancer syndrome: One case, multiple lessons by Ikram Burney in International Journal of Clinical Images and Medical Reviews

Abstract

Ovarian cancer is one the most common gynecological cancers, and epithelial ovarian cancer is the commonest sub-type. Between 10 and 15% of all epithelial ovarian cancers occur secondary to a mutation in BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene, and may be associated with breast cancer, known as hereditary breast ovarian cancer syndrome (HBOCS). We report a case of HBOCS, highlight the importance of family history and treatment history and discuss the recent developments in surgery and systemic treatment for patients in relation to the presentation of this case.

Introduction

Ovarian cancer is one the most common gynecological cancers (Bray 2018). Epithelial ovarian cancer is the commonest sub-type (Kurman 2014). Between 10 and 15% of all ovarian cancers occur secondary to a mutation in a cancer susceptibility gene (Zhang 2011). Mutations in BRCA1 and BRCA2 gene are the commonest cause of hereditary ovarian cancer (Mikki 1994; Claus 1996). These mutations also predispose the individuals to other cancers. Patients with epithelial ovarian cancer may also develop breast cancer (Easton 1993; Easton 1997). We report one such case here, and discuss the recent advances in the medical and surgical management of hereditary breast ovarian cancer syndrome (HBOCS).

Case

A 57 year-old lady presented with abnormal vaginal bleeding and abdominal distention. She was diagnosed to have high grade ovarian cancer, underwent total abdominal hysterectomy, bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy and omentectomy, and was found to have stage IIIC serous papillary type of high grade ovarian cancer. The patient was treated with 6 cycles of Carboplatin and Paclitaxel to complete serological and radiological remission, however, she tolerated the chemotherapy with frequent episodes of febrile neutropenia. Three years later, the disease relapsed and the patient was treated with 6 cycles of Liposomal Doxorubicin to state of complete serological remission. One year later, the disease relapsed yet again, and this time, she received Carboplatin as a single agent. The disease entered serological remission after 3 cycles, however, the patient could not continue treatment because of repeated febrile neutropenia and thrombocytopenia

One year later, the disease relapsed a 3rd time. CT scan showed disease only at one site (figure 1a) and the patient was treated with Carboplatin at a reduced dose, once again to a state of complete serological and radiological remission (figure 1b). A surveillance mammogram was reported as BIRADS II and the bone mineral density revealed osteopenia. One year later, the disease relapsed a 4th time, again in a solitary site, and the patient was counseled about treatment with chemotherapy followed by a secondary cyto-reductive surgery, to which the patient agreed. The patient received 6 cycles of chemotherapy at reduced doses, followed by surgery. There was no residual disease and the patient remained in complete remission for more than one year and 3 months.

At this stage the CA-125 was seen to rise again serially, and mammogram showed a 2.2 cm speculated lesion in the left breast. A fine needle aspiration was highly suggestive of breast cancer, and a core biopsy revealed an infiltrating ductal carcinoma, grade II, estrogen and progesterone receptor positive, but negative for HER-2/neu protein (ER positive; PR positive; HER-2/neu negative). The proliferation fraction measured by Ki-67 was 40%. The morphologic and immunohistochemical patterns were consistent with a diagnosis of a primary in the breast (Table 1). Staging CT scan revealed a metastatic lesion in liver and bilateral pulmonary metastases. An attempt at guided biopsy from the pulmonary lesion was unsuccessful and led to pneumothorax. The patient refused further attempt at biopsy and agreed to be treated with Letrozole, considering that the pattern of metastases was more likely secondary to breast cancer rather than the ovarian cancer. Ten months later, the CT scan showed a marked regression in the size of pulmonary lesions, but a stable liver lesion (Figure 2).

Table 1: Immunohistochemical staining patterns of breast and ovarian cancer. WT-1 (wilm’s Tumor 1); PAX 8 (Paired box gene 8); CA 125 (Cancer antigen 125); ER/PgR (Estrogen receptor / Progesterone receptor); CK 7 (Cytokeratin 7); GCDFP-15 (Gross cystic disease fluid protein-15); TP 53 (Tumor protein 53)

Figure 1: CT scan at the time of the 3rd relapse (Figure 1A) shows a 35 mm x 28 mm mass in the region of omentum, which disappeared completely after 6 cycles of carboplatin AUC 4 (Figure 1B).

Considering that the patient had HBOCS, the patient was referred to the cancer geneticist. A detailed history revealed that her mother had dies of a malignancy of unknown primary site, her sister died at the age of 40 years, of a malignancy with ascites, but the primary site was not known to the patient or the family. The patient underwent counseling followed by assessment with a germline mutational analysis for breast and ovarian cancer panel, which revealed a pathogenic mutation in BRCA2 gene (c.4243G>T), and a variant of unknown significance in the NBN gene (c.425A>G). The BRCA2 mutation was consistent with a diagnosis of HBOCS. One year later, the CA 125 was seen to rise again serially, while the metastatic lesions in the lung and liver were under good remission. The patient was commenced on treatment with Olaparib, and the CA 125 dropped from 324 to 26 in one year (figure 3). The patient continued to receive Letrozole. Twelve years after the diagnosis of ovarian cancer, and while still on treatment for breast and ovarian cancer, the patient passed away of an unrelated cause. During the course of the treatment, patient’s three daughters agreed for mutational analysis; two tested positive for mutation on the BRCA2 gene, and one of those two was screen-detected to have a breast cancer.

Figure 3: Serum CA 125 levels (IU/L) plotted over time. The patient was commenced on treatment with olaparib in Nov 2015. The levels dropped to within the normal limits (<36IU/L) in March 2016 (within 4 months of the treatment).

Discussion

We report the case of a woman diagnosed to have HBOCS, who lived 12 years after the diagnosis of high grade ovarian cancer, received multiple lines of intra-venous chemotherapy, albeit with difficulty, underwent a secondary cyto-reductive surgery, and in the last 4 years of her illness was treated for the two cancers with an oral aromatase inhibitor and a PARP inhibitor. Both breast and ovarian cancers responded to the treatment with the two oral agents. We would like to highlight several aspects of management for the general readership of this journal.

The median survival of patients diagnosed to have high grade ovarian cancer, stage IIIC is dismal at around 3-4 years (Peres 2019). This patient lived for 12 years. Complete response to chemotherapy on five occasions, and a poor tolerance to chemotherapy, even at an age of 57-65 years indicate the tumor is exquisitely sensitive, especially to platinum containing chemotherapy. Platinum derivatives (Cisplatin, Carboplatin and Oxaliplatin) are alkylating agents, which act by disrupting the DNA repair pathways. Usually, PARP (Poly (ADP-ribose) polymerase) enzyme is required for base excision repair (BER). If the enzyme were inhibited, DNA repair would be affected. Also, if one allele is inactivated on the BRCA 1 or 2 gene, such as, because of mutations or methylation, DNA repair will be grossly affected, leading to a process called ‘synthetic lethality’ (Konstantinopoulos 2010; Helleday 2011). In the last few years, three such compounds (Olaparib, Niraparib and Rucaparib) have been developed, tested, and have become the standard of care for patients with either germline BRCA mutations, or even in patients who may have homologous reconstitution deficiency (Ledermann 2014, Mirza 2016; Pujade-Lauraine 2017; Coleman 2017). The first-in-class compound was Olaparib, approved by the FDA in 2014 for use as a single agent in patients who had germline BRCA mutations and had failed three lines of chemotherapy (Ledermann 2012). Our patient was treated and responded to the treatment.

BRCA 1 mutation is more common than mutation in BRCA 2 gene, and it is important to distinguish between the two. Although, response to platinum chemotherapy or PARP inhibitors is the same (Konstantinopoulos 2010), there are phenotypic differences, especially for breast cancer, and the susceptibility to develop other cancers, required for counseling the family members. Patients with BRCA 1 mutation are associated with triple-negative breast cancer (ER negative; PR negative; HER-2/neu negative) in more than 75% of the cases, whereas, patients with BRCA 2 mutations are associated with hormone-receptor positive breast cancer in more than two thirds of the cases (Hartmann 2016). Our patient had BRCA 2 mutation and hormone-receptor positive breast cancer, which was treated with aromatase inhibitor for more than 4 years. Although the life-time risk of developing breast cancer is same (65-70%) in the patients and the first-degree relatives, the life-time risk of ovarian cancer is 40-45% in case of BRCA 1 mutation carrier and 10-15% in case of BRCA 2 mutation career (Antoniou 2003; Hartmann 2016). Our patient had three daughters and they were counseled. Two tested positive for the same mutation. Because of their relatively young age, and the minimal increased risk of ovarian cancer in BRCA 2 mutation carriers, till the age of 45 years, they were advised to consider delaying BSO.

The role of secondary cyto-reductive surgery in ovarian cancer has been contemplated and debated over the last several years. Three major phase III trials have been reported in the past 2 years (Please see table 2). The GOG-0213 trial was the first trial to have been reported (Coleman 2019). The primary end point was overall survival (OS); 485 patients were randomized to receive standard of care chemotherapy with or without secondary cyto-reductive surgery. The patients were selected if the treatment free interval from the last dose of platinum containing chemotherapy was more than 6 months. Although, there was a non-significant prolongation in the progression-free survival (PFS) (18.9 vs 16.2 month; HR 0.82), there was no difference in OS. Actually, the OS was inferior in the group which received secondary cyto-reductive surgery (50.6 vs 64.7 months; HR 1.29). However, a sub-set of patients who achieved R0 resection had a better PFS and OS, compared to those who could not have a R0 resection. The DESKTOP III trial randomized 407 patients to receive standard of care chemotherapy with or without secondary cyto-reductive surgery (du Bois 2017). There was a clinically and statistically significant prolongation in the PFS (19.6 vs 14 months; HR 0.66). Also, the primary end-point was met (du Bois et al 2020). The was a significant 7.6 months prolongation in OS (53.6 vs 46 months; 0.75 (0.58-0.96; P = 0.02). In addition to the criteria of treatment free interval of more than 6 months, the investigators also used the AGO criteria. The AGO criteria was developed after the DESKTOP I trial, and women with no gross residual disease after primary surgery, ECOG performance status of <1, and no ascites on CT scan at recurrence were classified as AGO score positive (Harter 2006). Subsequently, the DESKTOP II trial suggested that patients with a good performance status, absence of ascites at the time for secondary cyto-reductive surgery, more than 12 months of platinum-free interval, isolated site of recurrence, and the possibility of complete resection of disease were likely to benefit from the secondary cyto-reductive surgery (Harter 2011). The 3rd trial (SOC-1 trial) randomly assigned 356 patients with recurrent ovarian cancer in first relapse to either chemotherapy, or cyto-reductive surgery and chemotherapy (Zhang R 2020). There was a clinically meaningful (5.5 months), and statistically significant prolongation in the PFS (17.4 vs 11.9 months; HR 0.58) for the combination of cyto-reductive surgery and chemotherapy arm. The eligibility criterion was different from the first two studies. The SOC1 investigators selected patients if the platinum-free interval was at least 6 months, and an integrative model score was <4.7. However, at the time of management of our patient, results of the randomized trials were not available. We based our decision on the available data from DESKTOP I and II trials. The patient fit both the AGO score positive and the subsequent criterion developed after DESKTOP II trial. Our patient lived more than 5 years after the cyto-reductive surgery without a subsequent recurrence in the abdominal cavity.

Taken together, the three randomized trials comparing chemotherapy with or without cyto-reductive surgery suggest that there may be a benefit for surgery in carefully selected patients who can undergo potentially complete (RO) resection in women who have recurrent platinum-sensitive ovarian cancer. Although, results of randomized trials should not be compared, however, it would be useful to note that the magnitude of benefit seen in the DESKTOP III trial (HR 0.75), is similar to the recently reported SOLO2 study. The later study compared the OS in patients with platinum-sensitive ovarian cancer, but who also had a BRCA mutation, and who were treated with the PARP inhibitor, olaparib and had a median OS of 51.7 months compared to 38.8 months in the placebo arm with a HR of 0.74 (Poveda 2020). Although, olparaib is the standard of care for maintenance treatment in patients with BRCA mutated platinum-sensitive ovarian cancer, the cost of drug and the overall cost of management remains very high. Cyto-reductive surgery in carefully selected patients, with a potential to achieve R0 resection may be an alternative, especially for patients with BRCA negative platinum sensitive ovarian cancer in first relapse.

In conclusion, we report the case of a patient with HBOCS, and highlight the recent developments in the systemic and surgical management of patients with ovarian cancer.

Table 2

SCS: Secondary cyto-reductive surgery; CT: Chemotherapy; OS: Overall survival; HR: Hazard ratio; PFS: Progression-free survival

Conflict of Address

Ikram Burney:

Principal Investigator for the hospital site for Astra-Zeneca sponsored PREDICT study Served on the advisory board for Astra Zeneca Other authors declare no conflict of interest

Author’s contribution:

Dr Juhaina Al Hinai – Data curation; Writing – original draft.

Dr Moza Al Kalbani – Surgical Oncology management, Methodology; Writing – review & editing.

Dr Marwa Al Riyami – Pathology reporting, methodology; Writing – review & editing.

Dr Abeer Al Sayegh – Clinical Genetics management, methodology; Writing – review & editing.

Dr Ikram A Bunrey - Conceptualization; Formal analysis; Supervision; Writing – original draft; Writing – review & editing.

Informed Consent:

All data are anonymised, and patient identification is not possible.

For more details: https://ijcimr.org/editorial-board/

#Ovarian cancer #gynecological cancers #HBOCS #Epithelial #abnormal vaginal #bleeding and abdominal #Liposomal #Doxorubicin #chemotherapy #Immunohistochemical #pulmonary #Olaparib #Ikram Burney #ijcimr

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snuggleupagus · 1 year

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Taking our new kitty to the vet today. I think her incision site from her spay mayyyy be getting a little infected? It doesn't look as bad as the pics I see online but it also doesn't look perfectly fine either. I'm also worried she came to us with a UTI or developed a UTI post-spay. Getting her looked at will be a big relief today. Hopefully some oral meds will fix up whatever may be going on.

#she had a large amount of vaginal discharge at one point which i thought seemed abnormal and she has spent a lot of time messing around #in the litter box

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spootsaline · 5 months

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~merry christmas to me, my birth control stopped working~

#now i get to wonder if im fucked #im going to continue to take my birth control tonight to see if im spotting (but i have a feeling im not that was a decent amount of blood)#but then i get to go like. then what #ive upped my birth control twice(?) and im either at the max or i can do it once more #deppo lead me to spotting and didnt fully halt my bleeding so i cant do that #and if someone tried to physically insert something into me i think id kill someone #just because doing the normal vaginal exams hurt so much for me i already try to put them off normally (which...btw i hear is abnormal?)#(anyways it feels like one of my bad pain days when it happens even slightly worse)#so im KINDA at a complete and total loss #am i just fucked?

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eva1casmoclinic · 6 months

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Vaginal discharge is a common concern that many women encounter in their lives. It is a perfectly normal fluid that aids in keeping the vagina clean and free of infections. However, some variations in its quantity, color, and texture may indicate a hidden medical issue. Let’s look at it in more detail in this blog post and learn how to treat abnormal vaginal discharge.

#cosmetic gynecology #best laser surgery #best cosmolaser clinic in chennai #best laparoscopic surgeon #cosmetic gynecologist #best laser treatment #best cosmetic clinic #best cosmetic gynecologist #best laser treatment in chennai #abnormal vaginal discharge #eva cosmo laser clinic

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familydocblog · 11 months

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Understanding Dysfunctional Uterine Bleeding: A Guide for Women Aged 20-50

As a woman, experiencing abnormal uterine bleeding can be a distressing and uncomfortable experience. Dysfunctional uterine bleeding (DUB) is a common cause of abnormal uterine bleeding in women of reproductive age. In this blog post, we will provide you with a comprehensive guide to understanding DUB, including its causes, symptoms, and treatment options. Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com What is…

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#abnormal uterine bleeding #DUB #dysfunctional uterine bleeding #Menstrual cramping #Pelvic pain #uterine bleeding #vaginal bleeding

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rinhaler · 6 months

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DEATH IS NO MORE !

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k

As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.

You shouldn’t be here.

The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.

Is there a dress code?

That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.

The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.

You just couldn’t resist, this.

Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.

With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.

You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.

$100 for a ticket.

“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.

You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.

There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.

You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.

Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.

“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”

“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.

More like a warning.

“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.

You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.

The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.

There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.

Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.

And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.

A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.

The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.

As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.

But you scream.

Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.

Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.

Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.

There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.

He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.

“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.

“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.

It’s suffocating.

He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.

“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.

If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.

A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.

“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”

He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.

A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.

He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.

As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.

But you can’t.

Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.

“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.

“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.

“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.

He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.

You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.

He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.

“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”

“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.

“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.

He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.

Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.

“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”

“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”

“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”

“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.

“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”

“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.

But—

“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.

“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”

“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.

He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.

It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.

But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.

“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”

“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”

“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”

“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”

“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”

And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.

You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.

His arms almost cage you in.

Almost.

He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.

But you aren’t trying.

You’re just staring into his eye.

And he likes that.

“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”

“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.

“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.

He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.

You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.

Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.

“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.

Decide?

You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.

“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.

“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.

“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”

“You said you’ll win.”

He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.

“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”

“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”

“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”

“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.

You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.

But he does.

The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.

“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”

And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.

He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.

You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.

“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.

“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.

“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.

You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.

A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.

It’s art, here.

Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.

It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.

You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.

But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.

Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.

And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.

You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.

He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.

This fight… it was on a whim.

Was it just to impress you?

He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.

And why…

Why are you loving this?

You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.

If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.

Watch him forever.

You’re sick.

This is sick.

“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.

Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”

“D… Don—”

“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.

Oh, he’s been paid.

He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.

It’s his height, you realise.

It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.

“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”

“No.”

“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”

“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.

His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?

“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”

“N-No.”

“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”

You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.

“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.

“That’s none of your—”

“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”

“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.

Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.

Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.

He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.

“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”

“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.

“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”

The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.

A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.

“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”

“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.

He doesn’t respect you, though.

Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.

“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.

“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.

He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.

“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.

“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.

No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.

They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.

And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.

He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.

“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.

And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.

“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”

“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.

He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.

“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”

“Wha—?”

“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”

You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.

“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.

But he doesn’t pull anything out.

Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.

Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.

His money.

And it’s everywhere.

You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.

“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.

The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.

“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.

He's yours.

“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.

But you don’t care.

You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.

“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”

“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.

“Yes what?” he repeats.

“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”

“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”

“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.

“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”

Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.

But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.

“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”

Fuck, Megumi.

You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.

“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”

“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”

You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.

“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”

“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.

He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.

“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.

He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.

“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.

“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.

“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”

You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”

“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.

You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.

Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.

You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.

“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.

He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.

The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.

“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.

“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.

Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.

You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.

“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.

“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.

“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.

You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.

So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.

“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”

“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”

“Obviously not, Megumi.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”

“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”

“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.

“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”

“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.

Just like the fighting.

And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.

“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.

“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”

“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.

You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.

“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.

“… love you too… bitch.”

m.list | chapter two

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your-spiritual-journey · 1 year

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koemiexists · 3 months

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need a overstim fic w alastor pleaseeeeee and maybe some bondage with his tentacles????

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

summary: alastor is your best friend, you think. but he doesn't want that. and you're okay with it. word count: 1.6k tags: smut, light bondage, tentacles, tentacle sex, overstimulation, monster form alastor, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, vaginal sex a/n: sorry for the wait!! i have been busy with school, as per the usual... but again!! slowly but surely!! the tortoise wins the race as they say!

You and Alastor were practically best friends. He never said it explicitly, but you knew that you and him had to be really close for him to be so at ease with you.

Rosie had told you that not once had his smile dropped, even in private with her. You, however, witnessed it one time. It was an accident, sure, you had just looked up at the exact moment his smile dropped from a wide grin to a bit of a grimace. It happened so quickly you almost thought you were imagining things.

Considering this, if anyone asked, you would confidently say that you and Alastor are best friends.

Alastor didn’t think the same, though, you came to realize when he loomed over your bed one night.

You were upset, to be honest, especially because you barely had time to yank your hands out of your underwear when you heard the telltale sign of him entering.

His shadow had spread out along the wall, staring down at you as you shot up, staring at Alastor, cheeks slightly red. The room was illuminated by two light sources; the constant dim lighting of Hell and all of the artificial bulbs that littered the streets, and Alastor’s glowing red eyes staring straight at you.

“Alastor?” You whispered, tilting your head in question of just why he was at your bed in the middle of the night. Angel had dragged you to a bunch of shopping stores for the entire day, rambling about how your wardrobe was especially lacking, so you were tired, and just wanted to let loose steam before finally sleeping.

In retrospect, you were glad you went along, considering you brought Charlie a new suit that she loved.

A sharp crackle of radio static forced your thoughts back on the Radio Demon’s form, and how he just continued to stare, before clearing his throat, the constant noise altering his voice rising.

“Apologies, (Name).” He started slowly, gently sitting at the edge of your bed as you continued to silently look at him, your confusion heightening as you began to get apprehensive of what his goal was here.

Despite the air thickening with static and apprehension, you couldn’t help the fact that you began to get wetter at the sight of Alastor. He cleared his throat, eyes narrowing at your form.

“Why are you here?” You question softly, removing your covers from your body as you begin to perspire lightly. “You don’t normally come into the women’s bedrooms without permission. You said that it’s not of a gentleman’s nature to do so without courting her...”

He nods lightly, inclining his head towards you as he places his microphone to the side. “You’re correct,” Alastor’s eyes are on you again, glowing lightly as his grin sharpens. “And I am here particularly to court you. Although... it seems I may have interrupted a private matter.”

You flushed, and looked away. “Yeah, you have. Is that why you were acting a bit weird?”

Alastor huffed. “Weird?” His fluffy ears drew back against his head as he rolled his eyes, his grin still present. “I was not acting in an abnormal way.”

Feeling bold, you decide to wake the lion in the den with some teasing. “Oh? Am I supposed to believe that, Al? Obviously, something is up. You’re acting weird around me.” You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared up at him.

“Watch your mouth, dear. I will not be kind to you if you keep talking.”

You snort. “How are you going to shut me up, hm? Is the big, bad Radio Demon going to broadcast my screams? Going to make me beg for forgiveness? Are you going to try and take my soul? Huh?” You’re not sure why you’re so emboldened, and why you’re trying to get a rise out of the one sinner who can kill you in an instant, yet you feel thrilled when you see his brows furrow.

His antlers grew in size, and his eyes became radio dials as his large size towered your smaller frame. His grin was so wide, you felt your heart stop for a moment as his claws dug deep into the side of your pillow, right by your head.

Alastor watched you yelp in fear, and he can almost smell the way your blood was pumping, the way you began to clam up. “Done?” He spoke slowly, as you nodded. “Good.”

Instead of shifting to his regular form, he just snapped his fingers, and you let out a high pitched squeal when your pajamas disappeared from your body. You were left stark naked, and Alastor only gave you a look, as if to punish you for your behavior.

“Bad girls don’t get to orgasm once and be done with it.” A tentacle shot out from his back as his shadow self held your legs in order to stop any potential movement you may make. “You’ll take what I give you. And you have made me very upset, (Name).”

You whimpered, but he ignored it, instead pulling a chair up and sitting right next to the bed. His tentacle then went straight to your awaiting cunt, rubbing from the opening of your tight pussy to the tip of your clit.

Twisting, you let out another squeaky noise, eyes wide and face flushed. Alastor peered at you, but you only let out a gasping ‘green’ as the tentacle plunged deep in you. You shifted again, trying to make the appendage go deeper into you.

“Needy? I barely touched you.” He smirked at your writhing form, the way your hair was splayed against the pillows. Your hips began to buck upwards, trying to get closer to the base of the tentacle. “Who were you thinking of?”

You sobbed out in pleasure, feeling your abdomen tighten as a second appendage began to rub at your clit at a fast pace. “W-what? What are you-” You interrupted yourself with another pleading moan exiting your mouth.

Alastor rubbed your legs slowly, humming. “When you were masturbating.”

“Before you arrived?” You moaned out, an arm over your head as you hiccuped. “I- It’s embarrassing. This is embarrassing.” You told him, trying to keep your noises at bay. You felt your high cresting, but you didn’t want to cum so quickly. The tentacles kept their touches up, and you bit your lip hard, drawing blood.

He narrowed his eyes at you, the room filling with a cursed energy as he continued his ministrations, ever so slightly speeding up as you barreled to your release.

You orgasmed around the tentacle inside you, whimpering as the other one rubbed your clit at the same quick pace, throwing you into the side of overstimulation. Crying out, you try to push it out of the way, however two more tentacles come out to pull your arms back. You writhed, your leg automatically jolting out in response to the constant stimulation on your cunt, and you shrieked as Alastor began to tease another tentacle against your already filled pussy.

“Now who?” He inquired once again, watching as you sobbed from the pleasure, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. His erection pressed against his tight pants, but he just disregarded the pressure, focusing on the way your hair was tousled up, and the saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth.

After another tortuous moment of this, you caved, bucking your hips as your lips parted. “You! You, Alastor! I was thinking- I was-” You moaned roughly, and he smirked as you tried to gain your bearings. “Mm, I was rubbing my wet cunt at the mere thought of you!”

Humming, Alastor grasped your hips, retracting his appendages that were holding your arms down. He leaned over you, in perfect position to thrust inside if he was bare.

“You look gorgeous.” Was all he breathed out, as you shrieked when the second tentacle at your cunt thrusted inside. You instantly came, whining pathetically for more, even as you were overstimulated.

The other appendages retracted, and he unzipped his pants to thrust his hard dick inside you. You choked on a moan at the feeling of his cock, especially considering it was thick and long due to his monstrous form. “Al- Mm, Alastor!” You keened, wrapping your trembling legs around his hips.

With every thrust, the bed shook tremendously, causing the headboard to bang against the wall. In your lust-filled mind, you couldn’t remember how there was others in this hotel, how everyone must have woken up due to the amount of noise you were making-

“No one will see you in such a state, darling.” Alastor groaned through the heavy static in his voice. You let out a quiet whimper as he abused your cunt with sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, and you just wished he’d fill your pussy, to the point where you were stuffed full.

You were well aware of his questioning gaze at you, and you tried your best to fight through the fucked dumb haze, swallowing a few time as you tried to move your tongue to make sounds. “Breed me,” You stuttered out, looking up at Alastor. “Breed me until I’m full, Alastor, please.”

Alastor growled, and shoved his cock deep inside you, watching as you squirted all over him and the bed from the strength of your orgasm. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, and he grunted as he pulled your hips flushed against his own, before cumming inside you.

You couldn’t even moan anymore, instead making a tired yet pleasured noise at the feel of Alastor’s thick, hot cum inside your swollen, puffy pussy.

You felt, rather than saw, Alastor slowly become his regular form. He shifted you gently, and you groaned at the way your legs ached. “Apologies, dear.” Alastor said, seeming apologetic as he kissed your sweaty forehead. “You must rest now. I believe you are properly sated?”

Smiling cheekily, you gave him a half-lidded lustful glance. “I may need some tending to, tomorrow.”

Alastor let out a small huff of amusement, smiling genuinely at you. “After I tell Charlie and the others that you’re perfectly fine.”

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womenhealthspecialist · 2 years

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cherryredstars · 5 months

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Miguel/Reader request:Recently Miguel is experiencing a lot of pain,stress,his serum was losing effectiveness and his spider were more stronger to the point he transformed into a monster,a man spider:a 15 feet tall creature,full of fur,six clawed arms,hindlegs,spikes,fangs,many eyes and pinchers.One night Miguel was really struggling so y/n decides to “help” (there’s consent from both even if Miguel is a bit scared about it since he’s afraid of hurting her and he transforms while doing it)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Blood, Penetrative Sex, Internal Vaginal Ripping, Sedation, Mating, Mentions of Breeding, Mentions of Reader Developing a Spider Egg Sac, Spiders… Miguel Turning into a Big Spider and Having Monster Sex with You????

Summary: A not so itsy bitsy spider…

A/N: This was requested all the way in October… I am so sorry. And I am so sorry for the warnings.

Word Count: 1.1K (Unedited)

It had to be a miscalculation of something.

Maybe the wrong measurements, a switch in chemicals, perhaps some lab equipment in need of replacing. He refuses, absolutely refuses, to believe it is because his body has begun to form a tolerance of the neon chemical. That instead of sedating him, it’s making him stronger. It has been stressing him the fuck out. Everything has been stressing him out. Rapture, the multiverse, Miles Morales, Peter B. Parker. There is only so much a single man can take.

And you know that. The woman of his dreams and the miracle cure to all his problems. You, you, you. You were so sweet to him, leading him to the bedroom the moment he returned from HQ. Your small hand grasped his as you collapsed on the bed and pulled him on top of you.

“Let me take care of you, Miggy”, you had whispered into his ear. “Let me help you get rid of all that stress.”

How could he say no to that? How could he ever say no to you?

And it was fine. It was going good. His mind was empty and all he could think about was the way you squirmed under him. How good you were at taking his deep thrusts. How easily you were giving him the sweetest mewls. He was hyper focused on the way you moaned into his neck and your fingers tangled into his hair for dear life. Your skin was soft and warm and pliable under him, denting under his fingers and sure to leave bruises in the morning. Your hot cunt clenched and fluttered around his cock, making him moan out.

And then he felt it: a sharp prickling running down his spine. It burned red hot, shooting pain along all of his nerve endings. It felt like his skin was splitting open and expanding, like something was trying to crawl out of him. And it was. He let out a roar of pain, his thrusts slowing. Hair started to pierce through his skin, sprouting from his neck and down his back. The hair on his arms, legs, and chest expanded and thickened. His joints and muscles popped and rolled as they began to take a new shape and stretch. His skin began to give away to an ugly black that grew larger and swelled. His mouth has split open as his fangs elongated and pinchers began to sprout from his face. His eyes began to sting, his vision doubling, then tripling, and quadrupling. His eyes looked around frantically, watching as his field of vision dented and widened, now painted in a reddish tint. It started to grow more distant as his body began to lift, his back arching as it hit the ceiling.

Arms, legs, began to sprout from his ribs, sharp and spiky as they punctured the mattress around you. The hands on your body began to grow claws that punctured your skin, making you cry out as the smell of copper filled the air. His cock was the last to change, swelling and thickening. The sounds of your panicked screams echoed in his heightened senses, the smell of blood growing strong as his abnormal cock split you open from the inside in a way that was impossible. Your walls tore in an effort to accommodate him, and you tried to pry yourself off of him as the pain grew stronger. It only served for his morphed claws to dig deeper into your skin and you sobbed heavily. The sounds of your desperate pleas for help and terrified screams echoed in Miguel’s head. He tried to comfort you, apologize, but his words were only inhuman gargles.

An instinctive surge coursed through his body, his cock throbbing in a need to mate you. The need to have your stomach swell with spider eggs and create the perfect egg sac. He can’t do that if you’re trying to escape and if you’re in pain.

He leans his face closer to you, making you sob harder and turn away. It provided the perfect access to your neck. His fangs grazed the skin, before he sunk them in. You let out a muffled scream, your body quickly began to sag as the sedative chemical began to fill your bloodstream and make you sleep. Your eyes began to flutter, your mind trying to fight the drowsiness and failing. In a few seconds, your body completely relaxed onto the bed with your eyes closed and erratic breathing turning soft.

When the sedation wears off, when he turns back, he will cuddle up to you. When you wake up and look around frantically in fear, he will pretend to wake up and reassure you it was only a dream. A horrible nightmare sprung from your wild imagination. But for now, he ruts into you, his bulbous tip smashing against your cervix and jolting your body upwards on the bed. His movements are frantic and slightly disoriented as he tries to maneuver in his new form. Your walls are impossibly tight around him, glued to his length and almost refusing to let him go. It brought him closer to the edge, and with a few sharp thrusts he began to spill into you.

It surged out of you, overflowing from the edges of your hole in a creamy light pink as it mixed with your blood. When the blood washed out, it began to run a pure white. It soaked into the sheets and began to form a puddle. Then, Miguel’s body began to shift again. All the new additions receded back into his frame until he collapsed on top of your body. He was breathing heavily, his body readjusting to his human form. He groaned softly when he pulled out of you, and a panic welled in his chest.

He needs to fix this before you wake up.

He frantically got off of you, moving your unconscious body higher up on the bed so he can remove the sheets. He scours the closet you keep the linens in, picking out the one most similar to the old sheets. He doesn’t have time to go out and buy a new mattress, instead ripping up the cum and blood stained sheets and stuffing the fabric in the holes as a temporary solution and then covering it up with the new sheets. He cleans you up, amazed when the puncture wounds on your body have disappeared, only leaving the crusted trails of blood and discoloration. He can only hope your vaginal walls have repaired themselves and you only have an uncomfortable stretch between your legs.

When everything looks normal, he tucks you in and crawls in beside you. He holds you tightly to his chest, breathing in your scent and squeezing his eyes shut.

It was only a dream, he begins to practice in his head. Just a dream.

This felt like a fever dream to write. I can not explain to you the way I was laughing and ripping at my hair in bizarre astonishment as I typed this shit out LMAO.

Like ‘Internal Vaginal Ripping’ and ‘Mentions of Reader Developing a Spider Egg Sac’??? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

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nansheonearth · 11 months

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[Image description: Two smartphone screenshots of a Facebook post by a person named Sheila Toll posted 2 Sep. It is black text on a white background and the post is public. The post reads:

I am a Family Doctor and I want to keep a promise made to a patient.

Julie was a healthy, post-menopausal woman in my care who came in for a periodic health examination. One of my routine questions, in what is called the “Review of Systems”, was to ask if she had experienced any vaginal bleeding.

She said “No” but then laughed and added, “Other than when my period came back for a few months last year”.

All health care professional are taught early on that ‘vaginal bleeding in a post-menopausal woman is Cancer of the Uterus until proven otherwise’. This comment by Julie was, therefore, a red flag (no pun intended) prompting further questions, an examination and an ultrasound of her pelvis.

Julie was surprised to see me so concerned, especially since the symptoms had not recurred over many months.

Sure enough, a pelvic ultrasound and tissue sampling confirmed Cancer of the Uterus.

Julie underwent a hysterectomy and radiation therapy. She is now healthy, cancer-free and is expected to stay that way.

After all this was done, Julie sat ME down for a talk. She told me she’d had no idea a ‘short return’ of her period after menopause was a danger signal. Furthermore, she addressed the topic with friends over coffee and discovered that, out of 20 women, NONE of them knew this symptom was abnormal! She admonished me to “Tell women this! Don’t assume we know it!”

From that day on, I have kept Julie’s advice in mind when talking with post-menopausal patients. But recently my wife suggested that I should take this to a wider audience.

So, Julie, this is for you:

If you are a post-menopausal woman and your period ‘comes back’ or you have even one episode of vaginal bleeding, TELL A HEALTH CARE PROFESSIONAL and insist on having it investigated!

Wishing you all good health and long lives. End image description.]

#radfem #healthcare #women's bodies #cancer #menstruation #menopause #o

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fluorynn · 4 months

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🔗 — ᴛɪɴʏ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ᴅ ʏᴀ ꜱᴀʏ?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : recom!miles quaritch ✘ fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 4.3k

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ / ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : SMUT, no plot, Quaritch got a breeding kink, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, choking? ( Quaritch receiving it, I am FERAL when it comes to those dog tags of his—) unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, explicit language

ᴛᴀɢꜱ : @aristocolourway

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ : @cafekitsune !!!

a/n : Well… this is unexplainable, lol. One of my first times writing smut for Quaritch — for any big blue alien, lol🥲 Imma admit, I didn’t see him in this way at the beginning but the more I watched the movie, the more I realized he had no right being this FINE😭 anyways, im getting this out the way so I can continue with Neteyam’s series !!! Enjoy !!! <33

“Darlin’, jus’ move yer hand f’me. C’mon—” The rather swollen lower lip of Quaritch’s lolled once more between his teeth. The corners of his mouth had elevated into a smirk. One that brought a prominent twinkle to his gold hues, one that clashed with the silver around his neck, dog tags dangling across his chiseled pecs down to the planes of his stomach. Of course, the breathing mask was also dangling his neck, but it seemed to be long forgotten by the recom with every breath he stole from you.

Constricting was the word to describe his lengthy abdomen, for the way he restrained himself with his entire abnormal strength from plunging forward into your tiny entrance, and the assistance of the small facility’s dim lights and perspiration coating his azure tones sent another jolt down to your stomach.

“M-Miles, baby, it’s not gonna go in—”

A ‘tsk’ hissed from between his teeth, lips puckering in that feigning disappointing manner, and a deep exhale emerged from you. The pink flesh of your walls fluttered around the imperceptible even though Quaritch’s plump, softly glowing tip stroked at your entrance, your small hands applying the slightest of pressure to his lower stomach.

His head couldn’t help but tilt in wonder while a dimple showed between his brows. Really, he could just ignore your commentary, ignore the way the small length of your fingers pushed at his lower stomach in order to keep him from moving forward and use his much stronger force. But how could he ignore that cute panic striking your eyes? He couldn’t be that harsh with you.

So instead, the large expanse of his thumb reached to gently push your jaw up to look at him. “ ‘T’s always the same thing with you, cupcake. Sayin’ it won’t go in, and yet ev’ry time, it does.”

Another lustful glaze of honey spiraled over his irises, making their shade darker, sponging those now dilating pupils of his as he glanced down your bare body and disheveled attire. His stupidly large hands and sharp canines had torn it to pieces, until your breasts were liberated and your weeping hole clenched from the cool air.

Your round eyes couldn’t evict from analyzing every tiny detail of his breathtaking face; at the way those lines upon his forehead wrinkled with his stifled grunts, how his brow quirked as his golden gaze devoured your every curve, at how his smiling mouth was moistened with your essence and was a reminder to how mere seconds ago, that feline-like tongue of his was between your legs, deliriously assaulting your clit, that Cheshire Cat smile sprawled across his face as he looked up at your crumbled expression.

The luminous freckles across his cheeks and flat nose were shining even more with his sweat and your slick, and the ones trailing down the lean length of his body glittered and entranced you.

His features were sinister, lips curling over his teeth while the rest remained hard. “I won’t repeat myself, cupcake; move. Your. Hand.” His honed incisors found their spot below your jawline, finding the faint puncture they’d left minutes ago and enhanced the mark once more as they sank in.

That was when your jaw went slack, lips shaping a pretty ‘O’ while the smallness of your palms pressed over the nape of his damp neck, fingers winding over the curve of his head.

Quaritch inundated every one of your senses; his scent wavered your atmosphere, his ridiculously long frame lumbering and hiding your petite one from any other’s vision, the coolness of his dog tags grazing the sensitive flesh of your breasts and equally as biting as the way his canines did.

Heat liquified through your entire body, walls elongating beyond constructing capacity the second your cunt consumed him entirely. “F-fuck—”

Quaritch thrusted forward, half of his widthful cock disappearing between your legs, and the tiny bed below created a screeching creak from the act. A dribble of sweat shun between his brows as he grunted a low cuss word, teeth grinding together at the way your little cunt tightened around him. “ almos’ ‘ere, doll, almos’ ‘ere.” he crooned, thumb rising to stroke the damp locks over your temple, eliciting a muffled whimper from your throat.

Inhaling another sharp breath, glowing orbs peered into yours and with a small bob of your head, the other half of his shaft soon followed until his pelvis hovered over yours. All 10 plus inches stretching you out. Those eyes of his were blown out now as he stared down, being met with a subtle, so very subtle curve shadowing the flesh of your upper stomach — not only his eyes were abroad but so was that smirk of his as his hand went over the expanse of your belly, the outer shape of his cock, calloused fingertips grazing over the swollen flesh.

“Well, wouldja look at that beauty…ain’t it darlin’?”

Ever so lightly he pushed down, and when he did, whine after whine flew up your lungs. He didn’t dare to move though, not until you gave him the green signal that he could, giving you time to modify and gain control of your inhales and exhales.

Quaritch was no better though, not while he stroked the bulge within your lower abdomen, not while you tried pulling him even closer, sputtering out a low chuckle and jittered breath before raising his mask to take another deep and long inhale. “ ‘N here ya thought it wouldn’t go in—”

He was cut off by the way your dainty hand winded around the loose silver drooping across his chest, wrapping it tightly around each length of your fingers until inches away from the base of his throat. His eyes widened at the sight of yours; round, devoured with lust. “Fuck me, Quaritch.”

His rasped chuckle pulsated through your insides, and a low groan erupted past his mouth when you squeezed around him as the octave of his mocking laughter picked within the deepest parts of you. “Patience, darlin’. Don’t wanna ruin little you if ya don’t give both of us a minute—”

His voice faded amongst the thick air, words caught in his throat with every twist and wind his dog tags made, clinking faintly against the other as your knuckles were practically burying against the blue flesh of his throat, nearly leaving no passage for air to transmit through.

“Ruin me.”

“Well ain’t ya a pretty brat—”

You huffed, hands releasing his necklace and pushed him away. This caused Quaritch to stumble and lose his balance, knees digging into the delicate mattress and hoisting himself up as you slid away from him, tight cunt releasing him with a wet pop that made the both of you moan out loud. He was about to protest as to why you moved, why you turned away from him but all he could do was let his eyes follow the way you got on your knees, follow the way the pretty arch of your back descended down to the curve of your ass; so round, so fucking eye capturing and mouth watering that he has to restrain himself from craning forward to take a sharp bite.

You felt him watching, felt the way those amber irises flickered into specks that soon flowed through you, gathering and igniting down your body and between your thighs as they rubbed together to add friction to the burn. Reaching next to the bedside, you had to prop yourself on your forearms in order to grab what you desired, leaving your whole ass up in the air and in perfect display for the avatar.

Ears chirped high, tail lashing in anticipation the more you arched, abdomen pressed into the white sheets. His palm had slithered down his stomach, fingers wrapping themselves around his cock and tightening at the base when your adorable fingers reached back and parted the globes of your ass, parting them so fucking prettily until both your holes were calling out to him.

“Ruin me, Quaritch.”

“Well I’ll be damned…” Lithe and swift was his movement as he rose up, and even on his knees his large body still lurched over you when he scooted closer, not caring for the bed’s possible break and the sound of his palm meeting your ass blocked out the creaking. “Whatever occurred to ‘won’t go in’, huh?” He taunted you, yet you had felt him align himself once more, tip kissing your awaiting hole. He couldn’t help but slip in just an inch for the way you were drenched. Slick were your puffy lips, cascading down the inner angles of your thighs. Quaritch thought a little teasing never hurt anyone, so he was quick to slide out as soon as he slid in.

Desperate little thing you were, squirming and winding your hips back for his touch, the inhuman blaze of his body mingling with yours. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his fat tip did nothing more than graze along your pussy lips, teasing right over your clit.

It hurt , it ached terribly, the sexual frustration that consumed you. “Miles,” you muttered, the call of his name ending with a whine when a single digit of his — not enough to occupy the space of his cock but lengthy enough to stretch you completely out — swirled in, the pad rubbing over your adhesive, soft walls. “Somethin’ wrong, doll?”

His arrogant voice would’ve conflicted you if it weren’t for the way his accent thickened. He took pleasure in this, smug in the way your walls became one with his thick finger, watching the way you fell apart for him; wearily moaning, pussy drooling with no shame. Not a proper fuck yet and here you were, small silhouette disintegrating amongst his touch.

The very touch of his within you that soon turned into two fingers, slow at sliding in and out with the assistance of his dick.

“Quaritch. Enough with the games.”

Nothing but another chuckle huffed out, amused at the way you moved, already scheming and toy with your pretty pussy for as long as he wanted, and you caught onto this. Screw his damn schemes.

His mouth pursed in distaste at the way you perched forward and away from his shining tip. But all he could do was roll his broad shoulder back as he tried peering at what it was that you were doing, with his throbbing cock in his hold.

His head slightly inclined to the side as he watched something come into your hold. “Whacha got there, sweetheart?”

You disregarded his question and turned over, back beautifully curling against the bedsheets and legs bent to the air, parting as far as they would allow you to. Quaritch’s nose sharply inhaled, throat being greeted with every droplet of drool collecting in his mouth at the sight of you; the pillar of your throat exposing the blemished flesh there ( thanks to his truly), head tossed back with your face tilted to the ceiling yet eyes hidden beneath closed lids. The room’s small scale of space only lets the sounds of your breathing enter its atmosphere.

Until the hum of the vibrating device in your hands was featured. Quaritch’s attention was punctured to it, allured to the way you slowly brought it lower with each second.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were ya—”

Oh but he wasn’t. And you would. Quaritch — knelt on your bed that nearly met its breaking point — was disposed of all for a cruddy toy that’s mushed up against your clit.

“S-shit— oh!”

The merciless celerity muggled the liquid pouring from your cunt, seeping through every direction and Quaritch watched in awe at the way it all came into little crystalline spheres, trickling down and pooling into an entire puddle within the disheveled sheets.

This is what you wanted from him, what you needed from him; to give you the immense pleasure this silly toy was providing for you. Yet you had to admit it was enjoyable, the way Quaritch’s sharp gaze stayed fixated on your abused clit, a twitch of his eye giving you the satisfaction that he desired to be the one making you feel this good. He desired to be the one you crumbled apart for; the one that precious pussy got demolished to. But he knew forbearance was never an easy task for you, or better yet he should know this. You weren’t in it for his foolish games at the moment.

“Desperate little thing ya are, eh?”

A coherent rejoin spewed from your lips, no sense to your words whatsoever and this made him grin widely. The bed screeched once more, this time with Quaritch’s back flat against the wall but not before bringing the delicacy of his queue over his shoulder while one of his long arms extended out and lifted your body with lithe, placing you over his upper leg, and you could feel the hardness of his cock, pushing and rubbing against the length of your spine.

Your thighs were dangerously apart from one another thanks to the firm stretch of his large thigh, repelling you from pulling away from him as the pressure of the quivers into your pulsing bud augmented when his palm, forceful and large, enveloped your much smaller one and applied pressure there.

“M-Miles, baby, w-wai—”

His chuckle reverberated within your flesh, adding onto your helpless attempt to moan out a plea. “Nah, darlin’. If ye’re that desperate for it, lemme help ya out then.”

The pressure accelerating working your lower belly was beyond ferocious, and Quaritch knew this rather quickly. He knew this for the way his ears flitted at the sound of your jumbled heartbeat and pitch of your slurs, the way his free hand engulfed your entire hip as he tugged you closer, the way he picked up the intoxicating scent of you increasing, the way he had pushed you forward and plunged one, then two thick fingers deep into your cunt and you squeezed deliciously around them, pushing you close to the edge and into the pools of ecstasy.

The adaptedness of his finger pads covered and smoothed perfectly over the mushy parts of your walls. “ ‘Atta girl, that’s it—” His gravel-like voice grazed into your breathless and sharp exhales.

“I-I’m—Miles—”

An ignition flared in Quaritch’s core, with you so fucking pressed up against him, at the knowledge of you near in becoming undone all over his hand, just for him. The more his fingers thrusted in while the flat of his palm pushed the toy deeper, the more cum oozed out; sticky and translucent lot cohereting against his blue skin and a wide smirk morphed his features, waiting to get a taste.

“Ya near, cupcake?” You chin pushed into your chest, jaw quivering as the words whined out: “Uh-huh, I-I’m close—”

“Gonna make a bigger mess f’me?”

“Y-yes—” Quaritch withdrew his hand from applying pressure and led yours — still clutching the vibrator to your pulsing clit — just right above your lower belly, right near your pelvis area. This emitted an increase of the drizzle that was already scurrying around his fingers and absorbed into the bedsheets and his outstretched leg, until its splotching sounds had clashed with the octaves of your moans.

His hand was unrelenting though, still spurting in with the same merciless force he owned despite you already reaching your peak. “Q-Quaritch, oh my— shit!”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear, the pink of his nose nuzzling over the soft skin behind. “Let it out, c’mon, let it all out f’r me.”

The immense ecstasy you had felt slowly eased, bringing you down to Pandora’s surface. The pace of his fingers settled for a slow, sensual one and they jittered slightly within you when your damp cheek fell over his flexing forearm. “That was nice,” you breathed out, peering back at him with that lovely grin of yours that he too returned.

He pulled his digits out, groaning lowly at the squelching sound your cunt created when he did. Though they were quick to latch onto the flesh of your thighs, lifting you in the air until you were pressed down against and facing him. Those supple lips of yours parted in astonishment at the way his damn dick tumescences, cushioned tip shining with the opalescent glow of his precum, sprinkled with the twinkle of his star like freckles. It was unfair how pretty it was, how pretty his entire existence was. And Quaritch knew this, his mind had grown into this form, and he knew the way it affected you by the way he grinned with pride when your lower lip protruded.

“You’d be doing us a pleasure in givin’ us a turn, sweetheart.” With a tap of his tip on your tummy, both of your hands reached behind to support your weight on his thighs as you lifted yourself up for it to bury itself in you without any trouble, your cum functioning as lubricant as you settled down halfway down.

Your whimpered “yes” was all he needed to proceed, and the length of fingers wounded over your hip, practically splaying across your back while his thumb pressed below your belly button as he slowly pushed you much further down, watching as his cock awaited filled you, twitching to deeply fill your womb with his cum.

He didn’t mind the idea, he was actually curious to see a Tiny Miles Quaritch or… what would be a good way to name the girl? — if the little plum came out blue and chubby or the peach came out neutral and gorgeous like their mama, running around, wanting to test the waters in getting you round and swollen while carrying his inhuman DNA more than one time. The thought made him spasm as he stretched you out with his entire length, until you were flushed against his pelvis.

“Oh hell,” he gritted out, watching the way your eyes peered down at his constricting torso. “Perfectly tight as always…”

Vehement he was when it came to sex, and every time, with every touch and utter, you mollified for him. Clearly, this time was no different; the feel of Quaritch tumescending in you, his dick embedded within your stomach, all the reason to bring you close once again. “M-miles, oh my god—”

“Permission to move, doll?” The frantic bobs of your head gave him the opportunity to refresh some manners in that pretty head of yours. Teeth, deadly and predatorial, excavated into the interstice where the graceful line of your neck ranged and became shoulder. He didn’t release until the tang of iron became one with his taste buds, the rough surface of his tongue wasting no time in lapping the trickle of scarlet leaving your abused skin.

A hiss whispered from your lungs, and he soon managed to sweetly stroke his wet muscle over the pain he had caused until it was nothing but pleasure. The corner of your mouth hoisted when the flexible extension of his tail coiled around your thigh, wisps of dark hair skimming across your inner thigh. “How cute…”

“Those ain’t the words I’m waiting for, doll face.” He growled out, and you reached out to very lightly tug on his queue. “Dammit, Quaritch!—”

“ ‘Dammit, Quaritch’ ain’t the statement I was lookin’ for, now I—”

His sentence didn’t finish its near end for your palms had reached behind and planted themselves on his thighs, hips giving a slow roll before lifting your body up until the thick tip of it remained slightly in and slammed back down with a throaty moan.

His back pushed against the wall, putting the mask over his flat nose and mouth once more, and you could see the way his sly grin grew behind the fog his sharp breaths created in the mask before letting it dangle once more across his chest, bracing himself for the next of your moves.

One turned into two, two into three surprisingly hard claps your ass gave with his cock nuzzled tightly and further within your womb with each bounce, each stretch. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck me, please!” You beseeched, you whined, not caring anymore to contain yourself.

Quaritch huffed out a chuckle, a single large hand reaching over to encase both your tiny wrists, practically your forearms in the curl of his fingers and mushed them against your breasts, and his back pushed off from the wall so his other arm could curl around your entire midsection. You had no other option but to surrender full control over to the colonel without a single complaint or shift of movement, leaving it all to him.

“As you please, cupcake,” are the last words uttered before he lifted your body off his cock, only to ram you down with much more verve. He continued until the choir of huffs, moans and whimpers featured with skin plastered and slammed against one another recapitulated within the small room, the most probable outcome being that the other recom avatars and scientists could hear what was going on.

A pearlescent circlet scintillated at the base of Quaritch’s dick, disseminating over the blue tones of his shaft with every rise and fall your pussy gave him. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck, Miles….” was dragged from your hoarse throat, revealing the pretty column of it with the head tilt you gave until an ache came upon your shoulders.

“Damn, darlin’,” his voice gruffed out, vocal cords tight and visible around the muscles of his neck as every single fiber of his body tightened as well as he contained the orgasm his lower belly implored to fully release past his aching tip.

Taking advantage of the hold he had around your wrists, he tugged you forward until you sprawled over his abdomen, the pads of his thumbs rubbing soft circles over your chin and lower lip. “Y’keep squeezing around me like this, pretty thing, don’t know if I can hol’ it—”

“ ‘m sorry, M-Miles, c-can’t help it—”

Trembling, overwhelmed, and close you were to be ruined once more atop of Quaritch. Your thighs and his tail was coated with sweat and your cum that splotched with every pull down and every snap his hips gave. “D-don’t think I can keep it in, don’t think I can keep myself from cummin’ in ya—”

He had slightly pushed you back and brought your sore arms over your head, tears pearling your waterline and lashes as you both peered down between your legs; how his pretty dick disappeared and half of it would reappear once again with the slight protuberance of your belly, the thick and glowing veins accentuating his striped shaft curling inside of you in the most exhilarating and immoral way.

“N-no, please cum in me— d-don’t pull out, d-don’t hold it—”

Quaritch’s brows had pinched together, an affliction being the cause of their shape as his remorseless thrusts had settled for a slower pace, though the force did not go unrelented, and though it brought a scorching pain to settle deep within your bones and muscles, you didn’t regret it whatsoever.

“Words like that are dangerous now. Y’really want me to fill ya up, doll, with the possibility of you gettin’ pregnant?” He brought your forearms back over your chest, pressing them further in as the arm currently around you pulled away, his palm being splayed out and pushing against the small of your back until your body shaped a lovely arch; and he grinned at the fact that you let him bend you to his will.

Uncoordinated syllables spewed from your tongue, unknown to anyone else besides Quaritch for he’s seen you in this state more times than he could ever count. “Hm hmm, get me pregnant, M-Miles—”

Lax colored eyes gained another coating of color as his grin outstretched his entire face. “Hm, really?” His back hunched off the wall until his mouth hovered over your tilted down chin, palm applying more pressure to the lower column of your spine, swirling you over his dick as your whines increased in pitch. “Want a blue fleshed baby in ya? A babe that carries my genes?”

A long groan followed down the length of his throat at the narrow clench your walls gave him from his words, and you could feel every spasm his dick created in your stomach. You could feel the ooze pooling within you, knowing his restraints had been broken as Quaritch’s dick already exuded.

“A pretty baby that looks like their mama?” He grunted out, almost as if the thought excited and pained him all at once, to see a little one portraying the exactness of your lovely features.

“ Do it, Colonel. Fill me up.”

All Quaritch needed was your verbal assent, and with that, not even a second later, the coiling band within his lower stomach finally snapped, emptying his entire load in your pussy, giving into your words. Thick and boiling it was, your cunt, your own flowing with it. The increasing pressure of it became too much, pushing your own release afterwards, hybridizing with Quaritch’s cum as it seeped down his cock, still throbbing from the aftershocks within you.

His tight grip relinquished into a soft one around your arms, soon releasing them as he very carefully, very gently brought you to his front until your chin found its spot over his heaving chest, cock still buried deep inside of you, making sure that none of his seed went without purpose.

It was an entire different story when it came to aftercare, how sweet, how soft he was with you; his large palm cradling the curve of your head close while his fingers managed to reach and stroke the damp tendrils of hair pasted to your temples and cheeks, his tail setting for a protective, gentle curl around your leg, his mouth softly falling over your forehead, your cheek, your neck, shoulder, with hushed praises meeting your perspired flesh as well.

You exhaled serenely as you melted into his touch, Quaritch’s other palm flush over the small of your back while his thumb stretched to stroke your belly. Silence lumbered over the two of you, savoring in the feeling and moment until Quaritch’s rasped, accented voice had to cut in.

“A tiny Quaritch now, what’d ya say?”

“Absolutely not naming him Tiny Quaritch.”

“Nickname should be T.Q.”

#avatar the way of water #avatar james cameron #miles Quaritch x reader #recom!Quaritch x reader #Quaritch x reader smut #𝐍¥𝐑𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐍 !*ೃ༄#recom!miles quaritch #miles quaritch #recom!quaritch x Fem!reader smut #miles Quaritch avatar #atwow quaritch #¡¡ ŋყཞཞ !! 🪼🪼

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neopuppy · 1 year

Text

Puppy Pound (M)

preview. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”

Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”

Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”

pairing. dog hybrid Jeno x female dog hybrid reader

genre. hybrid AU, a/b/o subgenders, pwop, M/F, my contribution to the ‘quiet down’ glass box enthusiasts(we finally got Jeno INSIDE🤭)

warnings. profanity, use of ‘pup/puppy’, Renjun’s only here to be a stressed out hybrid caretaker, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 8000

now playing. Puppy Pound//Jazmin Bean

smut warnings. puppy rut, prey/predator vibes, restraints, leashing, masturbation, whining, cum eating, biting, choking(‘scruffing’), use of ‘bitch’(once or twice srry), painful orgasm, oral, barbed cock(ex: monsterfucking), knotting, cum inflation, unprotected vaginal sex

“I hate doing this to you pup.”

Renjun sighs with a frown worrying his lips as he gently combs through Jeno’s soft coat. The hybrid had escaped again last night, laid out naked in the backyard with dazed eyes, his blond hair a mess, tail covered in leaves and branches. It could only mean one thing..

“I don’t want to have to muzzle you, but I can’t have you staying here during your rut.”

Jeno whines, pawing at Renjun’s chest with enlarged doe eyes blacked out by his hormones taking over, eliminating the usual tender hues of brown. “I know I know, but you’ve been a real bad boy as of late, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering Jeno proceeds to grumble, swapping his act of innocence for a sleek glare at his owner. The look earning a nervous laugh from the smaller man. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”

Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”

Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape to comfort. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”

Renjun hates doing this, he really does, but he knew there could be consequences when he adopted Jeno. The kennel had been very adamant in instructing that he was no average dog hybrid.

‘Part Dobberman? Is that even possible?’

‘He’s a mutant, a mutt but worse. Those damn humans that treat hybrids like god damn toys instead of pets. They were force breeding all types of strains to create some abnormally powerful Alpha dog.’

‘Alpha dog?’

‘Yeah, that’s how Jeno was developed. Samoyed mother ravaged by Dobberman hybrids until she finally gave birth to a litter. He was the only one that survived.. if not for our facilities taking down their set-up who knows where he’d be now. Probably beaten to death by preys much stronger and larger than him in the underground boxing world.’

Jeno’s always been special, even more so because he’s such a unique hybrid. The first time Renjun laid eyes on him he knew he had to bring him home to take care of, even after the hybrid stood to his full size and his cute puppy face suddenly became overshadowed by the expanse of his muscular arms and wide chest.

Even now with a solemn expression wearing the puppies face down Renjun can’t help the pangs in his chest watching his overgrown pup sulk on the trek through the woods. “I’ll bring you back home once your ruts over okay?”

Jeno avoids his gaze, glaring at the glass box with chains inside from corner to corner that he’d been made to sleep in once Renjun realized his hybrid was the one behind the alarming amount of missing neighborhood cats. After discussions and much contemplation with the hybrid clinic they’d settled upon locking Jeno up at night, at least until he became accustomed to wild-life outside of his own. The glass case had done wonders to help him learn resistance and self-restraint to not cause harm, as naive and innocent as his actions were even doing so.

“How about I buy all of your favorite jellies too?” Renjun crouches down, smiling at the hybrid as he begins to unlock the case. He’d come out to clean it yesterday, still covered with remnants of Jeno’s fur from years prior.

“It’s not fair.”

Jeno kicks at leaves and dirt, pouting as he sways and avoids his owner's gaze. “I know it may seem that way Jeno, but she hasn’t ever been bred before. What if I’m at work again when it happens? I can’t take time off just to make sure my hybrids act civil and don’t mate all over my house.”

“I wouldn’t mate her.” Jeno snaps, quietly voicing off ‘yet’ in his head. “But you got her for me! Why can’t I—“

“Because.” Renjun interrupts. “The vet said she’s not ready for..” he motions lower toward the hybrids groin. “That.”

Jeno scoffs, finally taking a look at the case that Renjun at least had the decency to set up with a blanket and pillow this time. Not that it mattered much, despite the last days of Winter still making nights chilly, the hybrids not worried too much about it. “Body heat keeps me warm you know, especially during my rut.”

“I know.” Renjun smiles softly. “I feel so bad putting you out here, but after the last time...”

“She was begging for it.” Jeno rolls his eyes, entering the glass case before he becomes too riled up.

“I believe you Jeno!” Renjun has to ready himself to hoist up one of the chains, struggling slightly with a grimace as he squats and shoves back up, nearly losing his footing.

“I can do it myself.” Jeno grabs the heavy chain metal from his owners hands, glaring as he attaches one to the ring of his collar.

“…it’s heavy, doesn’t it hurt?”

Jeno sighs, hooking the other chain to himself allowing Renjun to lock them in place, the restraint only leaving him with enough room to turn and take a few steps, but not enough to leave the box once closed shut.

“Nothing hurts more than spending my rut alone.” He grumbles, shooting bullets at Renjun with his next sharp look.

The smaller chuckles uncomfortably, anxiously bouncing on his heels as he reaches to shake the chains and insure they’re not going anywhere. “The vet says she’ll be ready soon. Maybe by your next rut things will be different.”

Jeno grinds his teeth to hold himself back from responding full of attitude. The vet can suck it, frankly. He knows you’re ready, you practically ate him alive when your heat hit last time. As much as he wants to believe Renjun’s genuinely concerned for your safety, his Alpha can’t help but patronize him with constant nonsense that their owner is lying, because he wants you all to himself.

“I’ll stop by to drop off some food in the morning before I head to work, you should be fine until then right pup?”

Jeno nods, allowing for Renjun to shut the glass box with him fully trapped inside. The contraption akin to some type of ridiculous Harry Houdini magic trick, except this one didn’t include a trick door to sneak out of for a grandiose reveal.

“Forgive me, okay pup?” Renjun’s frown returns, watching the hybrid with a gloomy expression. Jeno doesn’t want him to think he hates him, but he can’t help to appear irritated the more his need to fuck and breed rises.

“It’s fine.” He grumbles, laying back into the soft blanket with a stiff neck. The metal collar not too heavy for someone with his inhumane amount of strength, moreso annoying the longer he has to wear it.

“You promise?”

Jeno laughs while turning off to the side and shaking his head. “Yeah yeah, I promise, but I fully expect a huge bag of jellies after this.”

“You got it.” Renjun winks, reaching for the set of keys in his pocket. “It’s time.”

Jeno nods, watching as his owner locks him up, scatter brained by the memories of the month he spent doing the same with a remorseful look and his head hung between his shoulders while he backed away and headed home.

The rational human side of himself knows it’s for the best really, you needed stitches last time after trying to take his full size for the first time. The thought of it licks up his back, jerking at his waist as bubbling heat runs through his cock.

You insisted he keep going, he just wanted to feel you a little is all.. but you were too fucking tight. Fists ball up at his hips the more he recalls your wrecked angelic face, tongue hung out like the thirsty puppy you are, wet eyes smiling in spite of the tears tracking down your cheeks.

He can still taste your sweet and salty tears on the tip of his tongue, dragging it between his teeth just to force out any remaining saliva that might still carry traces of your scent.

Renjun has to be home by now, the walks not too far out, just enough that if he somehow manages to escape the collar alarm would give him enough time to lock you up before he can reach the house.

The reminder around his throat only angers him more as he sucks on his drool and fools himself that he can still taste your spit, your arousal trickling down his fingers, and your sweet sweet honey-like tears.

Whining to himself, his eyebrows scrunch together unhappily, it's too early to feel this out of control; but this is what you do to him. It’s what you’ve done to him since the day Renjun brought him back to the kennel after experiencing how terrible Jeno’s ruts truly are.

The clinic advised him to send the dog hybrid away to ‘rut breeding centers’, but they wanted nothing to do with a hybrid such as Jeno; time and time again rejecting his applications until Renjun received a flat out ‘no’ due to the hybrids mutated breed.

It all seemed hopeless until the first time he saw you, frolicking out on the grass with your pretty multi-toned coat shining under the sun. The smile on your face beaming brighter than the sky above you, tail swishing in slow motion as you ran around playing fetch with one of the trainers.

‘That one.’ Jeno said with his nose pressed up to the window, starry-eyed and one second away from drooling.

‘Oh the Siberian is not up for adoption.’

Jeno’s attention snapped to the facility chief fast enough to cause whiplash, baring his teeth in a growl as Renjun jumped before him to create a wall between the two.

‘Why is that?’

‘She’s to be put up for auction later this week, we already have a family interested in her willing to pay thous—‘

‘I’ll pay more.’ Renjun interrupted sternly, gripping at the hybrid ready to blow a gasket behind him. ‘Please, please consider my offer. I’m willing to pay above market price.’

Jeno sighs, ignoring the twitch in his cock as he calms and reminds himself that his owner would do anything for him, even wipe out his savings to satisfy the hybrids insatiable need to fuck and claim.

He just has to be patient.

Not that you make it any easier for him.

No, you made it damn near impossible to control his Alpha. A purebred female Siberian husky, equipped with many of the usual attributes from your animal side, down to the unique heterochromia iridis. The different tones of gorgeous colorful pools that stared at him daily only amplified each fascinated blink, curious longing gaze and coy lustful stare you reserved just for him.

Ah, she makes it hard for me.

A lot of things really, the way his heart rate speeds up whenever you sneak to his bed and burrow into his arms, the way you chase him around and chew on his neck leaving light teeth marks behind, and the way your scent stains every spot around the house that Jeno’s already claimed and thoroughly scented. You make it so hard for him to not bend you over every surface and impale you with his knot until you beg to be mated, claimed and owned.

It’s no secret you’ve been attracted to the Alpha before ever even meeting. From the day Renjun brought you home and initially warmed you up to the hybrids scent by bringing some of Jeno’s clothes along, the attraction was instantaneous upon the first whiff, curiously sniffing around for more of the scent full of testosterone and power.

Finally arriving at your new home only reaffirmed your assumptions, Jeno’s every bit the strong domineering Alpha you’d expected, but he’s special..

While his Dobberman side made him all sharp edged, lethal and territorial, his Samoyed side magnified how irritatingly cute he is, caring and loving even when he wants to be mad at you for pulling on his tail and ears. Jeno could never really get mad at you, instead becoming more playful in your presence, tackling you down gently until you become a meshed pile of laughter and painfully stretched out cheeks. The two of you routinely bathe in each other’s licks to the point that Renjun grimaces when you crush your damp cheeks against his when you thrash into him for a hug, the residue of Jeno’s saliva left smeared behind each time.

He knows deep down inside it will be worth the wait when you’re ready, even if it hurts him now. Even if it means another rut weeping into his palm, the bone crushing feral pain to fuck becoming harder and harder to endure each time. Renjun couldn’t stand watching his hybrid try to recover from another rut alone, but Jeno chose you.. and you had come from a strict Husky farm that bred only pure hybrids. While this was great and ethical considering the ever growing percentage of hybrids that have ended up abused or overly sexualized, it wasn’t ideal for his extremely sex-driven hybrid, but Jeno insisted it had to be you.

Journeying through the muddy haze that's begun to cloud his thoughts, he takes a deep breath and succumbs to the urge to touch himself. It won’t be enough, it’s never enough..

Jeno’s fingers graze across the collar, shivering down his forearm as they meet the cold metal. He knows if he really needed to he could easily break through it, as long as the reason was worth it..

You are worth it though, he thinks, humming to himself; softly stroking down the expanse of his exposed collarbone to mimic the way you caress him when you think he’s asleep. He knows when you’re there, staring at him with those large two-toned dolly eyes, tracing his broad chest between the divets of defined muscle and bone.

The rough pads of his fingers can only do so much, Jeno squeezes his eyes shut, slowly reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He plays with the scrunched material for a moment, reminiscing the strong scent of melted sugar, decadent rich chocolate, syrupy sweet as he lapped the mess off your inner thighs. A low growl rumbles up his chest, finally diving in to encompass his clothed erection. The heat radiating off his length burns through the material of his briefs, palm sweltering as he hisses and forces himself to crush the material around himself.

Fuck, it’s hot.

Jeno can see his deep breath’s fog up the glass, turning his face to the side to contain a moan. He’s barely touched himself and feels ready to burst, an invisible string tugs his spine, threading through his thighs past the filled up sack pulsating there. It trails up, dragged through his length to the tip where he’s pathetically soaking wet. Precum’s made a mess of his briefs, the head of his cock outlined perfectly by the darkened thin cloth drenched over his slit, the girthy mushroom cap shape would terrify most, but he can’t stop picturing the way your face lit up the first time you accidentally walked in on him after a shower.

Jeno gasps, playing with himself by prodding at the wet covered slit, a string of thin wetness attaches to his digit causing his knees to shake. Jerking off hasn’t been the same since you moved in, while he used to do fine with stroking himself once a day, it’s become a time-consuming pass-time with you around.

‘Can I touch?’

You asked so innocently, jaw hung as he stepped out of the shower and patted down his warm skin flushed in shades of pink and red. Flaccid cock jerking on his thigh the second he opened his eyes and spotted you at the door stood still from the shock.

‘You want to?’

Jeno had to bite back a cocky smile threatening to stretch his lips, leading you to sit on the bathroom counter he moved to stand between your thighs, nodding for you to untie the damp towel hanging low on his hips.

‘Is this okay?’ The light touch of your nails tapped along his chest, leisurely gliding down between the etched lines of his contracting stomach muscles. Hot and smooth after thoroughly exfoliating and moisturizing in the shower, needing to take the edge off after watching your AM at home pilates class.

Jeno can feel himself convulse, his hollowed stomach sucking in as he reaches to yank his cock free, tugging his balls above the material of his bottoms for some relief. He groans, just testing the weight, imagining your weaker wrist bending back. The way his length masked nearly the entirety of your palm.

He had to help you back then, not only encourage you to wrap your hand around him, but to stroke and grip firmly, work a repeating motion around his size, to not be scared. The obscene visual of your hand barely being able to wrap around him makes his toes curl in his socks, pushing up higher in the box until the crown of his head hits the top lightly. Groaning between his pursed lips he arches up for more, body fighting his own resistance to take this slow, really draw out the experience.

The rough dryer skin wrapped around his cock will never compare to your dainty smooth hand, the way you held him so cautious and eager at the same time. Asking him ‘what now?’, he can’t believe it even now, how fucking sweet and naive you were just a few months ago; to now crawling on your knees before him, pushing your ass out fully presented begging to be filled.

Jeno twists back and forth down his size, the precum making a huge mess between his fingers, some even reaching the glass when he thrusts forward involuntarily. He can’t control the erratic gyration his hips fall into, can’t suppress an embarrassing whine from exiting his throat. It hurts so bad to know that this is it, unable to even fool himself that you’ll be there when he opens his eyes, that you’re more than just a fantasy for him to get off too and not touch.

Another grunt escapes as he vividly paints your euphoric face behind his eyes, the one you make when you lay back and expose yourself completely for him. Sucking on your finger before reaching down to spread yourself open and plead for the Alpha to use you.

‘Touch me the way I like.’

Jeno can’t breathe anymore, can’t even decipher how fast his fist is fucking up and down his length anymore, he wants to scream, cry, punch a hole through a wall, shatter the glass surrounding him.

He should have fucked you last time, should have came deep inside your womb, should have kept you plugged full of cum for days; but he got scared.

Jeno curses under his breath, feeling guilty as he fucks up into his tightened fist faster. It’s not tight enough, it’s not warm and wet sucking around his cock the way your cunt did. The screams you let out when he managed to enter you only half-way replay in his mind constantly, only wishing he could feel the pathetic excuses of punches you tried slamming against his chest; the faded scratch marks on his shoulders always bringing a smirk to his face when he spots them in his reflection.

“Fuck.” Jeno whines desperately, writhing up to thrust into you faster, give you every inch for once like you deserve. His free hand reaches to glide over the slightly raised skin, retracing the clear memory of your struggle before Renjun rushed in and barreled into him, having to use all of his weight against the hybrid to get him off of you.

Jeno never meant to hurt you, but he can’t deny how good it feels now to get off to, pulling harder and harder on his length; the massive girth pulsating against his palm with each meticulous stroke. He’d do anything to feel your pussy spread apart by his size again, just to be in you, taste your slick arousal all around him. Tears burn at the corners of his clenched eyes before he realizes, the first to drop incinerating down the side of his face.

The worst part is he’s not crying because it feels too good. He’s crying because it hurts. A watery choked sob drowns his next gasp of air, eyes fluttering open to gaze down in disbelief. Swollen from the base to the tip, his cock glares back at him, each vein pulsing angrily. The Alpha inside of him can’t take this anymore, turning on him in his weakest moment.

“Please,” Jeno’s head drops, sniffling his tears and the snot that’s begun to drip from his nose. “Hurts, please it hurts.”

He’s not sure who he’s begging anymore, himself? You? A higher power willing to spare him just this once?

The thought has him blinking up to the sky to ask if God even cares about some mutated hybrid? But the sky no longer appears clear and bright, hidden by darkness, freckled with distant stars and ash gray polluted clouds. Jeno cries harder at the realization that he’s been at this for hours, so deeply sucked into his fantasy that he feels close to hallucinating.

Another sob fights free, shivering as he works through his own pain and continues to play with himself. One hand securely wrapped around the base of his length while the other works to massage through the blood engorged girth throbbing against his palm.

If he had you here, he’d plunge deep inside of you, in and out over and over again without falter. Jeno nods, dry swallowing his next cry, rolling his head forward to find your familiar silhouette approaching slowly. Each step you take looks unreal, not even leaving footprints behind on the dirt and grass as you near the glass case, and he knows he must be going crazy now.

The ruts completely took over, blacked out eyes altering his surroundings into a fever daydream; fogging his senses, morphing him into a mindless fuck-puppy willing to do anything to reach blissed relief. It’s enough to see your face, your immaculate pretty perfect face, even with the worry behind your eyes and an upset slump weighing your shoulders down; he can feel release closer than ever.

Your head tilts, palms laid flat to the case, even wearing one of Jeno’s favorite shirts to sleep in. Unable to properly function, he doesn’t stop to ponder why you’d be wearing that let alone anything at all in his dreams. Instead he growls, pressing forward enough for his nose to crush against the glass, glaring at you with eyes that could devour.

“Alpha?”

Jeno’s body violently twitches, tugging once, twice, not even a third time at his length before aggressively spilling out one of the largest loads of cum he’s ever seen. The mess of it shoots up as he strokes and releases anguished shouts between growls, painting the glass in a creamy thick disaster.

It seems endless where you stand and watch with your jaw hung on the floor, the Alpha relentlessly pulling on his fat reddened length, the head of it near purple from hours of edging himself.

“Oh my god..” you whisper, fearfully nibbling your nails as he snaps back to your face with more black than white overtaking his gaze.

Jeno’s drooling now, his face entirely wet from crying, sniffling, spit working down to gather at the base of his thick neck.

“Alpha..” the name rolls off your tongue again, stifling your breath as you begin to tremble beneath his nefarious expression. “Al-alpha, I want to help you..”

Jeno flinches when you call for him again, his hard size not going down a bit, painfully swollen in his grasp. He topples forward, the chains leaving him no other choice than to press against the glass, the front of his sweats and cock smearing his last bits of arousal that haven’t slid down all the way.

“Touch me.” A gasp gets stuck in your throat, never seeing his mouth move despite hearing Jeno’s voice around you.

He looks wrecked, eyes half-rolled up, sweat dripping down to hang in tear drops along his defined jaw. It’s shocking to see the typically strong Alpha in this state, weak and still pumping his length uncontrollably, huffing hot breaths against the glass rapidly with each jerk around his size.

Renjun would be furious if he found out you only lied about your stomach hurting to lure him to the living room, pleading for your owner to pet your tummy pain away knowing good and well nothing hurt other than the burning ache between your thighs. Requesting tea to help you sleep did the trick, throwing yourself and whining about your cramps for more soothing comfort as you slipped crushed up sleeping pills in his steamy mug, chewing at all of your cuticles until he finally passed out and laid limply on the couch. The key he’d kept tucked away in his pocket seemed important, continuing to pat the area mindlessly throughout the evening.

‘Forgive me.’ You whispered, stealing the key before heading out and following scraps of Jeno’s scent still lingering in the crisp night air.

Your own scent spiked the closer you reached him, confused mostly by the notes of sour hidden in his usual aromatic comforting scent. It’s clear the Alphas emotions have gone haywire the more you pick up frustration, anger and arousal with each sniff.

“Jeno.” Heat swarms through your gut when you finally find him, crumpled up inside of a glass case miserably jerking himself off. His statuesque features wrinkled together in distress, even his arm and wrist appearing strained as you slowly walk up to him, treading lightly and mildly afraid.

The Alpha seems too dazed to realize how loud he screams, thrashing wildly as his release rips free, concaving the skin of his stomach that’s visible with his shirt shoved up to his waist. Jeno’s never looked so pathetic, groveling and sobbing, furiously trying to empty every drop of cum from his cock. The tip shoots out weak little jerky spurts by the end, leaving him boneless, choked by the collar keeping him held up in place.

It’s only as he begins to come down that he blinks at you between tears clumping his long dark eyelashes together, gasping short staggered breaths as he scans your face.

Puppy.

Jeno wants to cry for you, call out your name, scream until his chest rips at the seams; throat too dry to let out more than a whimper, a broken wail at best. The Alpha tenses, reaching to tap his fingers against the glass, each large vein lining his bicep thumping rapidly as he scratches down; silently pleading to be released.

“Jeno, I need you..”

The cracked whine in your tone makes his chest cave in, every instinct shouting that his mate needs him, his Omega needs to be taken care of, fucked and bred full of pups. The collar around his throat tightens with each gulp, laxed as he falls forward pitifully and whines, clawing at the glass door desperately.

“Need you.. Alpha..” crumbling to your knees you lock him in place with a heady gaze, chest dragging down the glass. Pert nipples hardened by arousal and cool night air, stiff through the material of his shirt clinging to your curves. Jeno wants to fall with you, buckling at his knees uncontrollably, the boney points hitting glass where his cums dripped down to. He can hardly breathe anymore, choking himself the more he attempts to move and break free, face gone different tones of red and pink from lack of air.

Brain fog clears enough to recall you’d remembered to grab the keys Renjun was trying to hide, patting way down to your hips to find where you shoved them inside of your underwear. The Alphas glazed over eyes stare down blearily, foaming at the corners of his lips as he continues to flex and strain each muscle, rattling the chains holding him down with small strategic movements to break free of the binds.

Jeno can’t think beyond escaping, surrounded by your heavy scent of arousal, the air thick enough to swallow and melt on his tongue; it’s too much, making his cock jump with each breath. His rut fully taken over to the point of hallucination, every thought shoved aside by the need to claim, fuck, and breed.

Stress consumes your chest, fumbling the keys and having to try a few different ones that won’t fit into the lock. “Fuck fuck.” Slippery hands make it impossible to work faster, glancing back as Jeno’s face morphs to a deep shade of red, each vein on his forehead protruding out violently near the brink of bursting.

Each failed attempt to unlock him heightens the sound of wilderness surrounding you, each bird swarming the area chirps louder, every snap of twig spine wrenching, wind howling around menacingly to taunt you for making your Alpha suffer. The latch finally gives, the sound of it cutting through your throat, catching your breath with a wrapped fist; everything muted by the dramatic fall landing the padlock in a pile of leaves and dirt by your knees.

Jeno’s growl could break glass, shaking the ground beneath you as he finally rips the chains from metal hooks Renjun paid extra money to install, guaranteed not even a wild beast would be able to escape.

It shouldn’t terrify you this much, inching back on your knees with a frightful gaze, but the Alphas never looked this deranged before. Drool gathers down his chin, snarling and shoving the glass open, he pauses, standing in place breathing wildly; chest collapsing in with each deep drawn inhale.

More than animalistic, Jeno seems voracious, treading forward in disbelief as the soles of his feet meet the outside of the box. Tongue lapping at the collection of saliva pouring from his swollen gnawed lips. He watches you curiously, blazed eyes tilting with his head as he stands above you engulfing your body in a shadow of heat.

It’s your fault, all of this, chasing the Alpha everyday, flaunting your rapturous seductive scent in his face only to deny him; forcing him to get locked up to keep you safe and protected.

“Present.” Jeno growls, baring the top row of his teeth, akin to a rabid dog with tendrils of drool hanging from his jawline.

“Jeno..”

Lunging forward, his teeth snap together, reaching for a tuft of your hair to stop you from crawling away. “What did you just call me?”

Jeno fumes, shaking you by the grip around your hair painfully, each strand aching from the small rough tugs pushing you side to side.

“Alpha?” You groan and hiss, reaching for his hips to keep steady and alleviate the pain surging down to your nape. “Alpha, hurts..”

“Then submit.” Jeno shoves you back, pushing his foot into your hip to get you on all fours. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“B-but.. I c-can’t—“ Jeno doesn’t let you finish, without another second of hesitation he buries a foot under your hip and effortlessly forces you onto your front. “Alpha! N-no!”

“Shut up,” Jeno sinks down, cupping your hips to set you steady on your knees. “Submit like a good bitch for once.”

“We can’t! Our owner said!—“

“I don’t fucking care.” Jeno snarls, encompassing your exposed rear with hot thick palms. He’s never this combative, never this cruel and relentless; delivering a lash of a slap to your ass with one hand as his other reaches lower to shove your shoulder down and press your chest to the ground. “You belong to me.”

“We can’t! It won’t fit!” The thought of Jeno’s massive size sets shivers off throughout your limbs, bad enough last time you tried to take him that you had to ice yourself for the rest of the day even after a vet visit as Renjun stomped around scolding him for hurting you. Not even more than a few inches of his thick girth had managed to glide inside of you before belting out deadly shrieks.

“I’ll make it fit.” He grunts, wedging your underwear up between the globes of your ass, kneading and palming the fat that folds over onto your lower back with teeth snapping loudly. “This is what you’re made for.”

Rustling noises alert you, blinking rapidly and failing to turn your head with the Alphas weight keeping you in place, unable to see him undressing as fast as possible with one hand. “You’re going to be good for me puppy.” Jeno says, more so commands, smoothing down to shove your hair away and grip the back of your neck. “Beg for it.”

Slotted between your thighs he gathers your underwear to stretch out, pushing the blunt wet tip of his length against your tight flexed hole. The dampness kissing yours noisily, splitting your labia folds open releasing wads of wetness down between your thighs. The visual tugging a groan from the back of his chest, fingers looped around his cock painfully tight to stop from thrusting all the way in. He needs to remain collected, give you time to adjust, no matter how rageful the veins striping his rod appear.

“..A-alpha— please, be nice..” you whimper, suffocating the more Jeno clutches your neck, the more he prods your folds side to side; admiring the fatty flesh framing his angry swollen tip, foreskin stretched back displaying the full mushroom cap shining with precum. The same one you ‘oooo’ and ‘aaaahhh’ for every time.

“I’m always nice puppy,” Jeno’s tongue clicks, licking the backs of his teeth to gather saliva, mouth dehydrated, thirsting for a taste. “Always so nice to you, too nice. That’s why you’re gushing around me..” shaking his head he dips in an inch, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to break skin. The giant head obscene trying to push in past your tight hole, immediately suctioned by wet warmth sucking around him in a way that makes his stomach twitch; muscles convulsing between etched lines, sucked in as he takes in a long deep ragged breath.

“Fuck!” Jeno howls, losing the battle with his Alpha, needing to feel you wrapped around each inch. He sinks in with precision, cock sliding through your creamy silk folds with ease. He’s too big regardless of how much you leak around the wide expanse of meat stretching you open with each inch, pushing arousal to drip down his thighs, noisily spurting and bubbling with each short thrust.

Jeno blows your puffed up tail away, nipping at it, slapping his cheek fretfully with each dip of his length. The constant whines you screech out only annoy him all the more. “Such a greedy puppy.” The Alpha hums, digging his neatly filed nails into the sides of your throat, a silent warning to quell the tremors shooting up your tail. “Take take take, that’s all you know how to do. Now it’s my turn to take.”

Jeno’s tone dives into a deeper octave, more sadistic and grim, causing you to scratch at the ground to scurry away; fight or flight instinct taking over and screaming to run. The spike of fear muddying your scent has him caging your neck tighter, fingers curled into your throat cutting your breaths short.

“Teach you how to be my good puppy.” He emphasizes by rocking his hips forward, balls smacking your clit with a heavy land, splashing obscene amounts of wetness between your thighs. The action flutters your eyes shut in humiliation as he tugs your neck back enough to scruff you, assuaging your fear with another deep hum and domineering clutched grip. “This is for your own good.”

The last time you can remember being tamed in such a way had to be when you were still a rambunctious newborn, only faintly recalling when your guardians would gather the skin at your nape to settle you down. Jeno had never gone as far as to scruff you, overtaken by his Alphas needs to be in control, he licks up your jaw without apologizing, teeth pinching your cheek with a soft nip. “Such a cute cute, pretty puppy.”

Hauling you back to lay against his chest, he reaches around to grab your stomach, sitting you fully onto his cock; cunt barely able to squeeze around the mass stretching you out. “So deep inside of you pup..” Jeno’s nose drags down your cheek, drool smearing from his pink wet lips. “Feel so good, perfect for me. Fucking made for me baby.”

Between sniffles you try to agree, caught between pleasure and pain fighting for dominance, losing the fight to your desires when his long digits apply pressure under your navel. “Feel that puppy?”

Gargled spit rises up your throat, blinking away the droplets of tears hanging from the rims of your big wet eyes; mustering up nothing more than hiccups and erratic nods. Huffing from his nose, the Alphas tongue hangs out, licking up your soaked cheek. The entire scene filthy and animalistic, cock buried in deep enough to teasingly kiss your cervix, helpless and weak like nothing more than a stupid prey falling into your predator’s devious trap.

“Alpha!” Jeno’s hands collar your throat even tighter somehow, leveraging his weight above you to rise higher and slip fully out only to pummel into you fast and recklessly. Air flow completely constricted by his strong palms bracketing your throat. Each thrust buries him in deeper than the last leaving you gasping deliriously, fully rearranging your insides with every violent blow meeting your cervix. Fucking worse than a dog in heat, he screams gravely, teeth grinding together, cock chubbed up with blood pushing your walls to stretch open to take all of him.

Without warning he cums, pushing it deeper and deeper without falter, nothing in his movement indicating that he’s ready to stop. The sounds behind you pure animal, rising from the depths of his chest with each hot white spurt entering your womb. Jeno slams into you harder, ass rippling under the collision of his hips. “That’s a good puppy, finally learning your place.”

Jeno smirks, licking his lips clean of drool, grabbing fistfuls of your ass before releasing to spank you again. A fucking mess, slicked down to your knees, ass covered in your juices. He slides out slowly, in a daze as each inch drags out more wet than the last, tugging your ass further apart only to admire the way your cunt swells around him. “Mmm, fuck..”

Jeno wants to whimper when you clench around the head of his cock, stealing a last staggering string of nut before he pops out obscenely loud. The sound even more magnified outdoors, cutting through the crisp night air and rattling your spine with embarrassment.

As much as he loves to see your pussy destroyed, gaped and stretched by the width of his girth, pulsing open in despair for more; Jeno can’t stand to see his seed go to waste, trickling out past your fattened up folds.

“What an ungrateful puppy.” Palms collide with your ass, snapping your back into a bowed arch, breaking with a shout. The tremble let out racking through your body more earth shattering, nearly knocking you off your knees, perfect for the Alpha who uses the opportunity to roll you over, shoving your thighs open with heavy hot palms rubbing up the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

Jeno swoops down, stomach flattened to the ground, latching his mouth over your hole to suck. The sound of slurping loud, disgusting and lewd, swallowing his own cum out of your hole with eyes rolled up facing the back of his head.

“Jeno!”

He rumbles, tongue and nose dragging up and down between your thighs. A fucking mess of slick covering his face, taking over his ability to breathe as you gush out more slick, a huge wad of it dripping down the bridge of his nose. Growling angrily, he slaps your inner thighs meanly, nails clawing down to your knees to scare you.

“A-alpha!” You convulse, writhing under the hard grip he sets on your hips, gluing you down to ravage your cunt with menacing lashes of tongue. Wet and wide, lapping faster than he ever has, chin pouring down with the remnants of wetness he misses, mindlessly devouring between your folds and crevices.

Another loud sob flies from your throat, reaching up to cross your arms on your chest; something to stop you from levitating as another orgasm travels through your body. This one rippling through your thighs and toes until they cramp and helplessly kick in the air.

“Pretty pussy all for me.” Jeno kisses, spitting just to watch your hole open up hungrily for more.

“Slutty cock hungry puppy.. my perfect puppy.” He kisses, quickly moving up to slot his hips between your legs, leaning down to mumble against your parted lips. “Okay?”

It's barely a nod, but it’s enough, letting the Alpha know you need more, you want more. Jeno nods back, nose dripping with a mixture of your arousals gently rubbing against yours, a tender moment before wrapping around his size; fat cock snuggled up to your sore hole. The thick tip nudging its way past the pathetic fight your body puts up, clamping around him in a way that sucks around his length, only inviting him to fuck further in.

He thrusts in harder than before, shocking your nerves, an invisible string attached to your navel lifts your back off the floor, arching up with a shout. Jeno mutters thousands of curses, hissing as he watches inch by inch disappear inside of you. Cock swelling up to full size ready to break your pussy for good. Nodding dumbly, he drags up your torso, tickling your throat before locking around you tightly, hoisted up with a lung clogging grip to hang from his cock.

“So full baby.” Reaching under his shirt, he cups the bulge formed under your belly button, becoming obsessed with how stretched you feel. The tip of his length sculpting a place there with a bed of cum prodding your stomach to expand. “Always knew you could take it.”

“Ughhh, Alpha!” It’s more blabber, hiccups and broken small cries; hardly able to form your words let alone thoughts coherently.

Jeno pulls you to his chest, throwing your weight up and down his thick cock, the pain burning through your middle in a sinfully pleasurable way. It’s sickening how good it feels to know the Alphas high-pitched moans, wanton cries, desperate growls are all for you, that they are all because of you. He fucks as if he’ll never stop, hands scattered all over your flesh leaving scratches and claiming marks behind, caking up skin and bits of blood under trimmed fingernails.

“Never stop fucking you,” Jeno pants, spit slick mouth breathing harshly against your cheek, biting the plump flesh between words. “I’ll never stop fucking you, keep you full of my cum, make sure you’re always filled with pups. Fuck you until your body breaks for me, mine, only mine.”

Rabid hunger pushes him over the edge, throwing you down on the ground to ram into you, nothing to hold him back. Jeno throws your legs over his shoulders, knee pits folding limblessly over the broad muscle; pushing ahead to fold you in half. He grabs your neck again, handprints already blooming around the sensitive skin there. Carelessly fucking into you with abandon, body shoved higher by each thrust, the tip of his size pushing past your cervix; bulged tip breaking through your womb with determination. Barbs form around his length, ripping shrieked screams from your chest as they expand and scratch through your muscle.

Grunting above you like a beast, Jeno’s unrecognizable, eyes blown out by the rut, teeth snapping covered with drool, nose snarled back; ready to attack and pounce. Exposed canines threaten to chew you up, lifting your neck like a toy to shove your foreheads together. Thrusting relentlessly through your heat, his barbed length trapped between your fiery heat is unwilling to stop, prodding harder at your insides the closer he reaches climax. “Fuck you full of my babies, Mine mine mine.”

Jeno’s lost to the unreal grip your pussy has around his barbed length, still attempting to milk him dry despite how much it hurts. The tears streaking your cheeks forming glossy puddles over your two toned eyes a reminder of how much this hurts; how much you still want it, how badly you need it.

“Anything for your Alpha,” he growls shakily, cock throbbing. Hissing as the thick head of his size thrusts in deeper; expanding past the opening of your cervix. Fucking little watery whimpered cries and repeated ‘uh uh uh’ out of your near lifeless body. “Anything?”

Jeno sounds distraught, his Alpha needing you to be responsive. Howling for you to plead, desperate for his good Omega bitch to say what he needs to hear.

Weakly nodding, you sniffle, mouth parting with strings of spit attached. Ruined, only good enough for your Alpha to ever want. “A-any—thing.”

Jeno’s length retracts, pulling out to the tip abruptly. Chest rising and falling similar to a beast after chasing down their prey and succeeding. Blown out gaze dissipating for a second, dropping your legs from his shoulders to properly hold your head up, breathy ragged air fanned across your lips. “Love you so much puppy.”

The Alpha thrusts back in, slamming into your cervix all at once with one full swope. Each ridge of his barbed cock painfully digging in past your somehow still tight cunt. “Fuck puppy! Love you so much.” Jeno cries out, ripping your hair back to bite down on your scent gland. Cock pulsing stronger than an accelerated heart beat. The fat head of his rod breaking your womb, growling as teeth break your skin, mating your Alpha and Omega as he unloads; cock lodging in place expanding at the base. The knot rips an excruciating pleasured orgasm out of you as your muscles seize up and struggle to stretch with the swell tugging your entrance to its limits.

Jeno hasn’t stopped cumming, drowning your womb in hot white strands of sticky release. The new sensation gushing your slick against his cock, adding sensitivity from the pressure of your orgasm, dribbling out in small spaces past his knot leaving his balls soaked with arousal.

Only then does Jeno’s Alpha finally exhale, lapping up the wound inflicted on your throat, tonguing the indents of teeth marks as sorrowful apologetic puppy whimpers pass between exhilarated breaths. The wanton neediness in each lick only a sign that he’s nowhere near done, continuing to spill inside of you until your stomach juts out painfully.

Jeno mumbles a ‘thank you’ ever so quietly, using the minute of clear head space to check in on you and lick your face clean.

“Thank you puppy.” He whispers again, losing sight of his satisfied gaze behind the backs of your eyelids, drifting off as he sets you into a new position onto your side and glides back in. “Thank you.”

Morning comes fast despite your exhaustion, cuddled up to your Alpha atop of the blanket your owner had set out for him. Jeno’s everything consumes you, covered in layers of dry cum, wrapped in the Alphas scent, bite marks littered over your chest, neck, and shoulders.

“Mmmph..” Jeno whimpers in his sleep, shifting against your back and rolling his face to hide in the crook of your neck, nose pressed to your scent gland.

“Alpha.. mhmm hungry.”

Right on time, wooden sticks snap followed by the clouded scent of human drifting through, rising the Alphas head to scan the area and tighten his hold around you.

“What. The. Fuck!” Renjun charges closer the moment he’s near enough to spot the glass box fully open and missing his pup. A scream high enough for only dogs to hear ripping free as he comes to an abrupt stop and finds the two of you laid together.

Jeno smiles, licking your cheek and kissing you to wake up. “Foods here.”

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #neopuppy fics #nct fanfiction #nct dream fanfiction #nct au #jeno fanfiction #lee jeno fanfiction

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eva1casmoclinic · 6 months

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How to treat abnormal vaginal discharge

#cosmetic gynecology #best laparoscopic surgeon #best laser surgery #cosmetic gynecologist #best cosmetic clinic #best cosmetic gynecologist #best laser treatment #eva cosmo laser clinic #abnormal vaginal discharge #best laser treatment in chennai

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reidbae · 9 months

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Elation

summary: You arrive late to your profiling class, and your entrance turn all eyes on you: Including a certain brunette professor's.

pairing: sub!prof!spencer reid x dom!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: teacher x student relationship, age gap (reader is 22+ and spencer is 32+), AFAB!reader, palming, choking, hair pulling, unprotected piv sex (do not do this pls), vaginal sex, degradation (m receiving), praise (m and f receiving), use of y/n before smut but ma'am and miss during, mild breeding kink, public sex technically, use of a gag, literally just filth tbh, reader is the dom but spencer's kinda bratty/semi-dominant and bites her back, idc if this is unrealistic BUT NO ONE SEES Y'ALL OK

a/n: HELLO i am very sorry for my disappearance and i am very glad to be back! also thank y’all for 200 followers wtf <3 i hope you like this! :) (also see if you can catch the 68 kill reference)

w/c: 4k

You walked as quickly as you could to your class, your heels making your presence loud and known as you held your bag over your shoulder, a late pass in your hand.

You had to finish a test for another class that morning, and, as a result, would be late to your first class of the day, your profiling class. You had warned your professor, Professor Reid, ahead of time that you would be late to his class today, but it wasn't going to make walking in any less embarrassing, especially if he was in the middle of a lecture.

You were wearing a short red dress, that clearly accentuated your figure, and it was a bit revealing around your chest. You were in black heels, too, and your hair and makeup made you look incredibly dolled up. Not that you had anything in particular going on today, but it wasn't a crime to look good, was it?

Besides, some attention from Professor Reid wouldn't hurt.

The man was undeniably attractive. Older, yes, but attractive. You weren't one of those girls who was only auditing his class to stare at him, but anyone in their right mind would take a liking to both him and his appearance.

Not that you were looking for the attention (Or were you?), but it would be nice.

You pushed open the door to the classroom, and you instantly muttered a number of expletives under your breath as the door creaked loudly. All eyes immediately landed on you, including Professor Reid's, but you maintained your composure.

Your presence cut Spencer off mid-sentence, and, as you suspected, he was in the middle of a lecture when you opened the classroom door. His eyes bored into yours, quickly scanning your figure, as you tried to close the door as quietly as possible.

You walked down to the front of the classroom to give Spencer your late pass, your heels clicking the wooden floor, that, in that moment, seemed to be creakier than the door. You felt like you were on a runway with the way everyone was staring at you, and your walk was earning several whistles and murmurs from your classmates.

It was only tolerable because you knew that the only reason everyone was staring was because you looked good.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," you said to Spencer as you handed him your late pass. His face was red, redder than you'd ever seen it, and—Was that sweat on his forehead? Once again, his eyes shamelessly roamed your body, and he had to clear his throat to get himself to talk.

"No worries. I hope your test went well," Spencer smiled at you. You muttered a brief, "Thank you," before taking a seat in the front row.

As you did, the whistles and chatter from your classmates continued, to which Spencer responded, "Okay, relax. I'm sure if Miss Y/L/N wanted those completely inappropriate whistles, she would ask for them." Your classmates chatter dissolved into laughter at the comment, and your face broke into a smile. "Now, shall we?"

For the entirety of the lecture, Spencer's eyes seemed to never leave yours, or your outfit. You knew that it wasn't technically abnormal for him to be looking at you, considering the fact that he was giving a lecture, and would naturally be looking at the class, but the attention his eyes were giving you was too hard to ignore.

After class, you were finishing up your notes as the rest of your class filed out of the room. Once you were done, you were the last one left in the classroom, and you were putting your notebook into your bag when another voice cut through the silence: Spencer's voice.

He cleared his throat, then said, "Do you have any last minute questions for me, Y/N?"

"Oh, no, that's okay, Professor," you returned. "Just needed to put some final touches on my notes, that's all," you smiled warmly.

"Alright, then. Do you have a class after this?" he asked you. You noticed that he was no longer where he stood for his lectures in the front of the class, but in front of your desk, and you weren't exactly sure when he'd got there.

"Yeah, but I've got time," you said. "Why, did you need something?"

Why did you even ask him that?

Spencer's face lit up in a blush at your words, and he shook his head. "Me? Oh, no. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't be late. If you need a pass, or need me to call anyone, I can."

"Oh, thanks. I think I'll be okay, though," you told him. Spencer nodded, his eyes wavering over you once more, and this time, you returned his gaze, allowing your eyes to soar between his face, lips, suit, and—Belt.

After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat, and spoke up once more. "What about you? Any classes to teach after this?" you asked, resting your hand on your hip.

"I've got my, uhm, prep block until 12 P.M., so, technically not," Spencer explained to you. You noticed the way he paused, stammering in your presence, and the nervous look across his face. You cocked an eyebrow.

"I see. That's good," you said with a shrug. He responded with a quiet, "Yeah."

"Can I ask you something, Professor Reid?" you asked as you looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

He nodded. "Yes, Y/N, what is it?" Spencer returned.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" you finally blurted as you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. Spencer raised his eyebrows, and, if it was even possible, his face got redder than it already was.

"What? No, of course you don't make me uncomfortable. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've got your hands in your pockets, and you've taught us that people hide their hands when they're nervous. You're also red, and it looks like you're sweating," you shrugged. "You just look uncomfortable, and I was wondering if I had something to do with that."

Spencer looked down and chuckled. He licked his lips before saying, "Sometimes, I forget that I teach you how to analyze people's behavior. But you don't make me uncomfortable, Y/N, I promise," he assured you. And yet, his hands remained hidden, his face remained pink, and the truth remained buried.

And, although you had a good idea of what it could be, you were determined to figure it out.

"Well, there must be something going on, Professor," you pushed as you walked around your desk. The two of you were even closer, face to face, at that, and Spencer swallowed.

"Y/N—" he breathed as you moved closer to him.

"I've seen the way you look at me. It's kind of obvious. You'd think a profiler would hide that better," you smirked up at him.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," he murmured as he looked down at the ground.

You bit your lip, incredibly aroused by how riled up he seemed to be by your voice alone, and put a hand on his chest. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Professor."

"You're not that subtle, either," he said. His brown eyes looked down to meet yours, and as they did, you could now clearly see the sweat perspiring on his forehead.

"I'm not trying to be. You, on the other hand, attempt so desperately to bury your feelings, probably because you know how wrong this is. Honestly, it's cute," you said, your thumb tracing absentminded circles in the middle of his chest.

You used your other hand now, both hands now smoothing soft circles higher, just below his shoulders. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he watched you, but a small smirk mirroring yours played across his face now.

"This is wrong," he said softly to you. "I'm your professor."

"That doesn't stop you from wanting me so badly," you didn't hesitate to remind him. Your next words came out in a whisper as you leaned closer and said, "It's okay. I want you, too."

That was all it took for Spencer to finally lean in, crashing his lips onto yours, taking your face into his hands, and God, was it hot. You kissed him back with mirroring desperation, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours. That was when Spencer took you into his arms, lifting you with ease, and sitting on the chair of your desk, placing you on his lap so that you were straddling him.

"Someone's eager," you teased between kisses. All he could do was nod, too desperate for more, too desperate for you. He pulls you back in, tongue riding yours as his hands forcefully grip your hips.

You hold his face, pressing him as close to you as you possibly can, and eventually, without even thinking, you slowly grind your hips on his lap. He responds with a whorish moan, looking up at you with an expression that said nothing but lust.

"Oh, God, you're so hard. You like that, huh?" you asked in a teasing voice.

"Y- Yeah, fuck," Spencer responded, hands digging further into your hips.

"Save your voice," you rasped. "You'll need it for when I fuck you."

"Y- Y/N, your class," Spencer reminded you in a stutter as your hands played with his belt.

"Ten minutes is all I need with you, Professor," you smiled, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as Spencer's belt clattered to the ground. "Besides, you can write me a late pass, can't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I can," he moaned.

"Then, don't worry about the time. Worry, about this," you said. With that, you dipped your hand into his now unzipped pants, touching him gently through his boxers. Spencer's eyes immediately closed, and his head cocking backwards ever so slightly.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N, that's-" Spencer whined, cutting himself off with another moan.

"Hm, Professor?" you teased nonchalantly, as if you were merely discussing your latest assignment. "What is it?"

"Good," he finished. "So good."

You chuckled at the sloppy, desperate view in front of you, your hand just barely touching Spencer's hard, aching cock, and him falling apart for it, sweat sticking several hairs to his forehead.

"Anyone could walk in and see you so needy for me like this," you chuckled. He was about to respond, but you quickened your movements, pressing your hand harder and eliciting a whine from him.

"I don't care," he shook his head. "This feels too good."

"Tell me how much you want this, Professor," you cooed softly, your words leaving your lips as a husky whisper. Your hand pressed down on Spencer's hard dick, taking what you could hold into your hand through his boxers.

"I want this, Y/N," Spencer said quickly, hands roaming your hips and back as he spoke in a soft tone. That rosy blush had never left his face as you responded with, "How much?"

"So much," he said desperately. "God, please, Y/N," he begged, neither of you even entirely sure what he was begging you for.

"That's pretty vague," you chuckle. "Tell me, Professor. Please, what?" you snap.

"Shit, I want to feel you, Y/N," Spencer whined in the brattiest tone you'd heard from him, evidently impatient for your touch.

As soon as the words leave his lips, one of your hands yanks his hair and pulls him back, to which he immediately groans.

"First of all, Spencer, don't fucking sass me. Second of all, I don't want my name to fall from your lips until I've got you coming and moaning it. Nod if you understand me, Spencer," your voice rang out in a domineering tone.

Taken aback by your tone, and so not used to being spoken to like this in his own goddamn classroom, Spencer shyly nodded, his cheeks a vibrant pink.

"Listening for once, huh? About time. You can call me ma'am or miss until I've got you where I want you. Is that clear?" you asked him. All this time, your hands had never stopped touching Spencer, and he had had a hard time responding to you this entire time through small whimpers and groans.

Spencer only nodded, to which you shook your head.

"Say it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's a good boy," you praised him softly as you leaned in closer, an amused smile across your face. "I'm going to fuck you so good. Is that something you'd want, baby?"

"Y- Yes, ma'am, it is," Spencer's hoarse voice rasped out. "You're sure you want to do this here? I could easily take you to my office, miss."

You giggled at his cluelessness as the hand that was touching him came to run through his hair. Didn't he know how much hotter the risk made this? Your fingers played with his soft locks as you answered, "Oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that you can't wait that long. Besides, I don't care who walks in. They'll see how desperate you are for me, and it'll be you who has to explain," you teased.

Spencer's face reddened as he fumbled with his words. "I- Well- Okay," he decided, because of his physical incapability to say anything else.

"Anyways, if you keep it quiet, there'll be nothing to worry about. So, do me a favor," you teased as you pushed your thumb into his mouth. "And keep your mouth shut. You can do that, baby, can't you?" you whispered. Spencer nodded with urgency.

"That's good. That's so, so good, Professor," you teased him. Your free hand came down to hike up your dress, revealing to Spencer your lace panties, that weren't covering all that much. The view made Spencer whimper out with need, only encouraging you to remove them at a tantalizingly slow pace.

You held eye contact with Spencer as you removed them entirely, discarding them on the desk behind the two of you. Next, you removed Spencer's cock from his boxers, biting back a moan at the view you were met with.

You knew he'd pack a lot from the day he'd become your professor, but, God, to see it in person like this, long, hard, and aching for you was almost too much.

"Jesus Christ, Professor. I've got you so worked up over what should be considered nothing in comparison to what I'm about to do to you," you smirked. You took his cock into your hand, pumping him up and down a few times, which only increased his desperation as he moaned around your finger. "Ready?" you asked finally.

Spencer could only nod, his face a deep scarlet hue, hips bucking up into your exposed cunt. You smirked.

Finally, you lowered yourself onto his cock. You'd fantasized about this moment so many times, and no amount of hours of touching yourself to the notion could even amount to the real thing.

Your pace was slow as you rode him, both hands digging into Spencer's soft brown locks. He lets out a moan he isn't sure how long he's been holding as you release your thumb from his mouth, and his hands instantaneously grip your hips as you start to ride him.

"Oh, God, Spencer, you're big," you praise him as your eyes shut. Your mouth doesn't, though, as small whines and whimpers fall from it, your lips curling up into a smirk.

"Th- Thank you, miss," Spencer whines back, rubbing soft, slow circles into your hips. He moves your dress out of the way so he can see you completely, hiking it up to your torso, and basking in the view of you. "You're so beautiful, miss. So, so beautiful."

All you can do is giggle as heat rises to your face. Once again, you bite your lip as you say, "Fucking my professor in his own classroom. So unethical and yet so, so hot," you rasp as you open your eyes again, gazing into his.

"You look so good," he tells you again, his words coming out in a pant. "You feel so good."

You pulled him back by his hair, exposing his neck, that was now entirely at your disposal, and attacking it with your lips. You press your lips against him with hunger, kissing and sucking, leaving as many marks as you please. The world was going to know he was yours if you had anything to say about it.

"You like how dirty this is, don't you, Professor?" you muttered, as close to his ear as you could possibly be. "You like the fact that anyone could walk in and see you falling apart for me, huh?"

Spencer only whimpers in response, squeezing your hips harder and shifting a bit as you continue to ride him, your pace quickening. That wasn't the answer you were looking for, and once you were sure he wasn't going to verbally answer you, you say, in a teasing voice, "Oh, come on, sir, give me more than that."

The moment you say this, an expression flashes across his face, one that can only be described as pornographic. It's whorish and needy, and you're almost worried you've already made him come, until you realize exactly why he just looked at you like that.

You chuckle and shake your head, unaware that he could somehow become more desperate than he already was. "What was that look for, sir?" You enunciate the word once more, and Spencer turns his eyes away from yours.

You grab his face, turning him to look at you, and rasp, "You like it when I call you 'sir', don't you, Professor?"

"Yes, miss. Very much," he instantly confessed to you. You smirked.

"Good, because I'm going to keep calling you it," you smile, and he nods in approval. Your hips continue to snap against Spencer's cock as you use him to pleasure the two of you completely.

"Open your mouth for me, sweetheart," you coo. Spencer couldn't oblige any faster, and when he does, you insert your thumb back into it. "Suck."

Spencer sucks like a man dehydrated, wrapping his lips around your finger with a look of compliance, incredibly eager to be as obedient as you want him to be.

"Such a good boy. I like seeing you so slutty like this. Because that's what you are, isn’t it?" you tease, giggling. You ride his dick to the top, pause for only a second, and crash back down onto him. "My slut."

Spencer nodded in return, his puppy eyes boring into yours as he gags around your finger. You remove it from his mouth and say, "Say it."

"I'm your slut, miss. I'm all yours," he indulges you.

"That's what I like to hear," you smiled. "Fucking you in such a public place when anyone could walk in. Such a bad girl, aren't I, Professor?"

"Yeah, you are a bad girl," Spencer moans out. His hands move from your hips to your tits, taking one in each hand, and working quickly with them. You moan when he does.

He's not only desperate for you, but desperate to make you feel good, too.

"Oh, that's so fucking good, Professor," you whine. Your movements grow quicker, as you both grow desperate to feel Spencer as deep inside your cunt as you possibly can be, and you groan out.

"I'm so, so glad, miss," he says in, arguably, his most submissive tone yet, and you bite your lip as blood runs to your face, flushing it with a red hue that surely mirrors Spencer's.

"You're so good for me, Professor," you moan.

"Fuck, miss, please say my name," Spencer begs you. One of his hands squeezes your waist again, eliciting a lewd moan from you, and you can't help but oblige.

"Spencer," you whine.

"Again," Spencer moans back, fondling your tit harder with one hand, and squeezing down on your hip as forcefully as possible with the other.

"Spencer," you moaned again, maintaining eye contact with him as his name fell from your lips.

"Yeah, just like that, miss," said Spencer.

As if it's the most natural thing in the world, you dip your head back into the crook of his neck, and begin to kiss him there. You bite hard enough to leave marks, and suck with enough force to leave a trail of hickeys wherever your lips touch.

Spencer's a whimpering mess above you, and as much as you love how vocal he's being, you don't love the idea of someone hearing the two of you, as much as you'd said you did.

The idea was hot, but getting caught fucking your profiling professor by a classmate, or God forbid, another professor, was absolutely mortifying, and not on your to-do list today.

"Keep it down, Spencer. Don't make me shut you up," you warned him between kisses. You bring a hand up to squeeze his neck. Surely, a bit of choking would get to his head, wouldn’t it?

It doesn't, and he stutters out above you, his voice broken and whiny. "M- Miss, I-" but he doesn't even finish his sentence as he cuts himself off with his own moan.

You remember the lace panties you'd forgotten on the desk a while ago, and the hand that isn't choking Spencer naturally reaches back to grab them. Without thinking twice, you shove them into Spencer's mouth, and he groans around them.

"I told you to shut up. Don't think you can misbehave and I won't punish you for it," you spat, biting into his neck again as your hold around his throat tightens. Spencer whimpers and nods, and you were sure that if he could speak, he would mumble an assortment of apologies.

"Tap me when you're ready to finish, so I can hear my name on your lips when you do. Until then, I'm going to use you just as I have been," you smirked, continuing to ride Spencer.

Over the next few minutes, the air's filled with moans from the two of you, and, if it was even possible, you had pushed him further inside of you. Spencer's hands roam everywhere in replace of his inability to speak, and he's as eager to get you to your high as you are to get him to his.

Eventually, Spencer taps your arm with urgency, and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he's close. You look up at him with a mirroring expression, and ask, "Close, sweetheart?"

Spencer nodded with a desperation you'd never seen from him before, and, in that exact second, you pull your panties from his mouth, and discard them on the desk behind you again.

"God, I'm going to cum, Y/N," are his first words. Your name sounds like honey falling from his lips, and you nod just as fervently as he had.

"Let it out, then, baby," you moan. "Come inside of me," you then rasp.

Spencer yanks you in and kisses you passionately, his hands tangled in your hair, and your hands tangled in his. One of his hands moves down to help you along, rubbing hard, fast circles on your clit. It's almost too much, and you're almost too sensitive: Almost. Your tongues dance with each other as you ride out your high, and Spencer fills you to the brim with his cum. You finally come undone, riding him as fast as possible in order to pleasure the both of you, and God, does it work.

When you've completely finished, you pull back for air, practically gasping for it as loud pants fall from your lips. "Jesus, Spencer. You were so good. Did you get off well, baby?" you ask him.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled as he softly rubbed your back, the desperation that was present a few minutes ago being replaced with a notable softness. "And thank you."

"Mmhm," you mutter as you press your lips to his again. You rest your forehead against his and smile. "You know that, uh, late pass you were talking about?

Spencer chuckled. He already knew what you were about to say. "Yeah?"

"I think I’m going to need it."

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both requests and reblogs are appreciated :)

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid

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