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yutaleks · 2 months

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cw: noncon, reader is restrained, oviposition, monsterfucking, belly bulge, blood, breeding, size kink, two (large) dicks, yuuta bites reader with his fangs. Mentions of a past experience on Yuuta’s part. reader is mentioned to be ovulating. Naga!Yuuta x fem!reader. Shoutout to Sage anon for starting the naga!yuuta agenda… sorry. it's the voices. you know how it goes. Length: 2.1k Banner by @/cafekitsune

For a creature that's holding you against your will, Yuuta is surprisingly considerate.

Despite telling you that the only reason he hasn't eaten you yet is because he can smell how fertile you are, he hasn't touched you in the week since he's kept you in his cave. Earlier, you told yourself it was perhaps because he's changed his mind. Or maybe he had realized, over the last week, that he did not actually want you to "carry his brood" as he so crudely put it himself within minutes of meeting you. Maybe he changed his mind, and was simply using you as a heater at night (which wasn't so bad, admittedly. Being surrounded by his thick tail was definitely better than cold, hard cave floor).

You had high hopes of being freed gently, after a week of him feeding you and attempting to charm you with the bloodied belongings of deceased spelunkers who were not as lucky as you were. You had told yourself that this half snake-half man creature that you could only dream up in nightmares was actually just being kind to you and would release you once your body was healed up enough to move. It was a nice thing to tell yourself each time you were faced with him reappearing from the dark, covered in blood, actively choosing not to feast on your flesh. It had to be for a reason, right?

After you'd eaten a meal of questionable origin (as all meals given to you by him were) he'd taken to his daily habit of 'smelling' you with his tongue. It is a strange thing, indeed, to watch his human lips part and produce a thin, forked tongue. It was nothing short of invasive, having him taste the air surrounding your body. And each day he'd mumble something along the lines of 'not yet'; you didn't understand what he meant by such a thing, and he did not offer to elaborate.

But today the smelling/tasting/whatever he was doing with his tongue produced a different result. Today, with a satisfied hum, he smiled at you with fangs protruding, the dark slits in his eyes looking especially fiendish.

"You're ready."

"Ready for what?" you asked, innocently, as his thick mass of tail had coiled itself around you. It was just on the edge of constricting, as its weight settled on your limbs.

What a naive girl you were.

His answer came to you in the form of him holding you down in his nest, scaled tail too weighty for your limbs to even dream of pushing back. And even with your incessant wriggling, he manages to peel away the layers of your clothing. It leaves your pretty, small human body delightfully open for him. He can’t peel his eyes off of your glistening cunt if he tried.

And despite the week spent in his captivity it is at that moment that you see him for the first time—two large, phallic appendages emerging from a slit where a human man's reproductive organs would be.

Does he really intend to put both of those inside of you?

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt,” he says, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as the rest of your body is immobilized. You want to say something, anything, but honestly you’re still so stuck on the sight of his two penises. They are way too big for your body, that much you know for a fact.

“It’s—they—they’re too…” your body attempts to move away from his approaching tongue, shoulders pressing back against the flooring. Your body moves not even an inch, held so firmly in place.

“I’ve heard that our saliva assists in easing the pain,” he tells you, syllables just slightly slurred by the weight of his tongue. “I will do my best.”

“H-have you,” you swallow, as his tongue flicks across the small space between his (admittedly) handsome face and your pussy. “Have you done this before?”

His dark eyes widen a little as he says, “Once. Another human.”

You don’t have time to question it any further—when he finishes speaking he unhinges his sharp jaw, further than a human should be able to, and quickly pierces your vulva with four fangs. The piercing scream that leaves your lips echos off the cave walls, pain stinging where he bites. Tears well at the corners of your eyes but the pain doesn’t last very long; just as soon as you begin to feel his teeth pull away, blood bubbling up from the wounds, so does a feeling of numbness begin to seep through the source of your pain. It is as he said—the saliva he leaves in your open wounds fizzles out the pain into nothingness. In mere moments, if it weren’t for the blood in the crack between your thigh and your pussy, you’d forget about the bites entirely.

He flicks his tongue over each bite-wound, and surely the area between your legs starts to feel—well, you can’t feel, actually. At least you’ve stopped thrashing about, to Yuuta’s relief.

It is behind the cages of dark lashes that he looks up at you when he’s done licking the blood away. Though your senses are dulled, you can vaguely feel his forked tongue swipe over your hole. Despite how much you don’t want this, your body responds to the stimulus of his tongue with dripping arousal—he can taste it, the tangy nectar that you drip for him. And to think you had resisted so intensely.

“So warm,” he notes, cool breath passing over your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

You do the math in your head, thinking to yourself that between your last period and the time you’ve been in this cave, it has to have been about two weeks…

Is what he is sensing… ovulation?

Your thighs shake against his palms, struggling as you watch his tongue begin to push itself inside of you. It’s the strangest sensation, that despite the numbness, you can feel his thin, forked tongue move around inside of you, coating your walls in that thin, sticky substance that is his saliva. Just as he had numbed the space between your legs, this too he covers in venom. It reaches a point where you can no longer feel the movements of his tongue, and your body turns boneless against his tail, tired from resisting.

When he pulls away, long tongue no longer numbing your insides, you look down upon his body once again. You more closely inspect his two cocks, noticing quite a difference between the two. The second, lower one is quite thicker, its girth intimidating, maybe even downright frightening. The upper one is thinner, more human-like in size and shape. Though it is large by human standards, it is not as scary as the first one. But the thought of him using both on you, perhaps even at the same time, has your heart pumping out of your stomach. Numbness be damned.

“B-both of those?” You blurt out, eyes wide in fear as his body draws nearer to yours.

“Ah, no,” he tells you, to your relief. “First, eggs. Then, mating.”

Again, you struggle against the weight of his body. Words like “please” and “don’t” leave your lips but he has kept you here for this purpose alone—surely, he’s told you this before, hasn’t he? You’ve accepted his gifts, his foods, his care. He has done it all for you, the one who will help him sire his brood.

He uses the lower cock first, its girth stretching you impossibly wide. He is as gentle as he can be, pushing in slowly and watching for any signs of pain. He had taken his time numbing you, and it seems to have paid off—besides general discomfort, the anguishing stretch that he had expected (judging from his last experience, anyway) did not seem to bother you as much as he thought it would. Your eyes screw shut as he stuff you full with his cock, and as he waits for you to adjust to his full size, he feels the muscles in your thighs relax. The resistance of your upper body against his tail wanes.

“Good girl.”

The sweet tone of his voice makes you shudder. It’s almost unfair that a monster using you like this can be so handsome, can sound so reassuring. You feel him pull out halfway, just to push back in. His upper cock, the one not inside you, rubs against your clit, creating a devastatingly delicious friction. And you watch your belly as he thrusts again, a bump moving along in time with his thrusts.

Is that bump his cock?!

It is unbelievable that your body can even stretch that much to accommodate him. Your eyes follow in time with his thrusts, and though he starts slowly he builds up momentum steadily. When he glances down at where your union begins, he’s satisfied to see a sheen that can only be your wetness. He’s convinced your body wants his as desperately as he wants yours.

“Is this enjoyable?” He asks you, sweat forming at his temples.

You gasp when the head of his cock glides against your engorged clit once again. With the numbness, you cannot feel it, but he certainly can feel how you tighten around his cock in response. He groans.

“Yuutaaa,” you whine, the first time you’ve ever called him by name. He’s elated.

The base of his cock begins to swell.

You screw your eyes shut as he picks up speed, deep breaths and thick, pained grunts erupt from his throat. He sounds different, suddenly, and when you look down you realize why—his cock grows thicker, bumps that you presume are eggs pushing past your entrance.

“Wait—wait—” you beg, arms pushing desperately at the tail that weighs them down.

“I will give my eggs to you,” he tells you between ragged breaths. “This may hurt…”

The word hurt is a blatant misrepresentation of what happens next. His tongue had done a fantastic job of numbing your pussy for him, but it does nothing for your cervix. Yuuta grabs at your hips roughly, and pushes himself into you as deep as he will go. The base of his upper cock pressed hard against your clit, and you quite quickly orgasm all over his cock, squeezing quite tightly. And though you feel nothing but fullness around his cock inside you, your orgasm spurs on his own, his upper cock leaking onto your navel. His lower cock pushes against your cervix, and with pain so sharp it makes you cry out, multiple eggs push through into your womb. You lose count of how many, Yuuta biting at your shoulder, your neck, your jaw—anywhere and everywhere to distract you as he deposits into your womb. You’re not sure how long it goes on for, but when he pulls out, your body feels both full and weak, reeling from waves of pain both in your cervix and everywhere he’s bitten;

Yet, he is not finished.

He removes the lower cock and replaces it with the thinner upper one. You make no protest this time, letting him rut into your used cunt. He’s mumbling something against your throat, but with your body numbed and tired, you pay little attention to it.

Overstimulation takes hold as he continues to fuck you long after you’ve already come all over his cock. He bites onto your breast, fangs and all, leaving puncture wounds with every bite from your shoulder to your nipple.

How pretty you look under him, he thinks. He even hopes he’ll get another chance to do this with you, hopelessly infatuated with this little human he’d met only a week ago.

You helplessly spread your legs as wide as you can when he finishes inside you, coating your insides in his spend and inevitably fertilizing the eggs he’d placed inside you. And just like a snake would in the wild, his cock anchors itself inside you, twitching with the last bits of spend and keeping you locked onto his cock, not wasting even a drop. A weak, defeated moan leaves your lips as his cock stretches inside you once again, plugging you full.

“Yuuta…” you call for him weakly. His tail coils around you affectionately, his arms pulling your chest closer to his.

“You did so well… thank you,” he coos to your weary, sweaty body. “I’m glad I saved you.”

You vaguely wonder: if this is what being “saved” is, would being forsaken have been the better option?

So tired from the ordeal, you quickly succumb to sleep, not knowing the answer.

#SORRY IDK WHERE THIS CAME FROM SORRY !!#naga!yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #cw.monsterfucking #cw.noncon #cw.oviposition #writing tag

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spitdrunken · 3 months

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i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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yuutakuns · 11 months

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Close friend Yuuta who takes a little bit too much advantage of how dear he is to you.

It starts with innocent little touches, the bump of shoulders and knees when you sit squished together. Sometimes, it’s a sneaking light hand on your thigh, creeping softly but not far enough that it has ever become uncomfortable. You don’t mind it, you think it’s cute that Yuuta is a little bit of the clingy type, he is your best friend, after all.

Content Warning: MDNI (minors do not interact), 18+, dark content, afab reader, dub-con/non-con, manipulation, reader is referred to as “angel”, unprotected sex, unhealthy!!!

It took some time, but eventually it began to dawn on you how Yuuta relishes in your attention, preening when you call his name. He’s always happy to be the shoulder you cry on, the one to listen to all your woes.

You only began to realize how bright Yuuta smiles, cheeks burning at the sight of you tearfully weeping into his broad, warm chest.

It’s after you start to notice Yuuta’s particular infatuation with your attention that it hardly takes any time until you find yourself cornered by him. He has you pinned up against a cold concrete wall, knee between your legs.

Your mind is filled with spiraling emotion, you can’t help but think maybe it’s your fault for not stopping this sooner, spoiling Yuuta too much with your trust and attention. But how could you have known?

You’re ripped from your apprehensions soon enough. Yuuta’s grasp is unshakeable, with one calloused hand pining you immovably to the wall. His breath is hot against your neck, leaving a trail of love bites and teeth marks as he holds you firm with his grip, like a dog starved baring it’s teeth for the first time.

Paralyzed, you feel as his free hand begin snaking down into your slick soaked panties. “Yuu— wait a minute—,” you manage out, stifling a moan into his chest. The room reeks of lust and you don’t think your whimpers will stop Yuuta any time soon.

His head hangs low into your neck as he fucks your cunt on his fingers, playing within your sweet little folds. Your whines only goad him further, “Shhh- you’ve been wanting this, yeah? Been needing me, my angel? Been waiting for me this whole time? I’m here now. I won’t ever let you go.”

You feel a little sick, unsafe, but despite that it’s hard to ignore the heat forming in the pit of your stomach. You try to open your mouth to respond but it’s covered by Yuuta’s hungry kisses, hot breath against yours as he moves his thumb to tease at your throbbing clit. He’s careful with the bundle of nerves, not going too hard nor too soft as his plays with your sopping pussy. You whine as you feel your cunt clench and your eyes roll back as you cum messily on his fingers, moaning weakly into his mouth.

It’s easy to let go after that, to be pulled into the nearest room and be bent over the closest table and have Yuuta pound into your pussy and squeeze your tits as he drinks you all up, takes all that you have to give and eats you alive. His cock stretches you out, burns in the most delicious way.

You cry out as your legs become shakey. You feel them almost give out but Yuuta continues to hold you up against the table, still fucking into your messy cunt as you cum again and again on his throbbing cock.

“A-ah…It’s like you were made for me, like you were made for me to fuck you. You’re perfect. I’ve always known you were perfect”

Yuuta moans as your pussy spasms around his dick, his pace becoming erratic as his hips slam into you. The grip on your hips is hard enough to bruise as you feel his cock twitch and spill out his seed out into your used hole.

Yuuta smiles as he lays his sweaty forehead onto your back, leaving a trail of kisses down your spine as your head begins to feel heavy and your eyes close from sheer exhaustion. You feel him hold you tighter and tighter, you fear he won’t ever let go.

#━☆ﾟ.* dreaming #⋆୨♡୧⋆ Yuuta #⊱✿⊰ jjk #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon #this has been rotting my brain for weeks #sorry I can never write Yuuta nice and sweet it’s bc I want him to be insane to me #yuta okkotsu x reader #Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuta smut

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prttykittes · 4 months

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omething icky…. Hmmm, I decided to do noncon, and stepcest with scara! :P

cw. Stepcest(Scara), Noncon, Punishment, Scara is bffs with Xiao, Xiao has a crush on reader, victim blaming, uni themed, threesome

notes: yep, I did something (eeww) they are both red flags, I have no idea what uni is like so I had to ask my sister how it was and read fanfics about uni themed stuff. I don't know if they wanted it separately but whatever:)

Your head hurts, your eyes hurt. You sniff as Scara glares down at you, you know that your eyes are red and puffy. Scara pats you head as he grabs your chin roughly, he presses his thumb into your mouth. It makes your mouth open, he spits into your mouth. You whimper as you try to move but Xiao has a hard grip on you. This was your punishment, you were just late to hang out with them, why did he want you to hang out anyways?? You gasp when Scara slaps you, you feel tears stream down your face. Your face hurts badly, Xiao gets up and goes to the small kitchen, you look up at him. He scoffs. “You're really annoying, but that was your punishment.” You felt a bit confused, he wanted to spit in your mouth and slap you? You tilt your head at your stepbrother’s words, he ignores your look and moves so that Xiao can sit down. They lift you up and lay you down, Xiao looks at you

“Sorry… have a drink and take a rest, you’re probably sleepy” he says, you feel the glass hit your lips as you take a sip, feeling the cold water hit your mouth, you groan as you push the hand away. Your back hits the bed, you feel numb and you can't move or speak. “I thought you said that, they will be asleep not awake” Xiao says to Scara, Scara shrugs. “Well fuck it, I am gonna fuck anyways, and they can't feel pain so why not?” Scara says, you want to scream for help but it comes out as a whisper, Xiao swallows as he watches his best friend take off his pants. Scara smiles as he is about to take his step slibing’s virginity, he grins and takes off your clothing. He slaps your sex, you whine but it doesn't come out, he licks his lips as he spits on your hole. “Take their mouth” Scara says, Xiao gulps as he watches Scara poke his tip at your hole, Xiao moves above your head as he slowly takes off his pants. You want to scream and fight back but you can't, he spreads your legs open, Scara spits on your stomach before he rams inside you, the force makes your body hit against Xiao’s crotch. Xiao grunts as Scara laughs and continues to pound you, you feel slight pain in your lower area, you can feel him moving inside of you. Your heart races when you see blood, you manage to let out tears, blood coats his dick. He doesn't stop and your mouth opens slightly. You gag when Xiao rams into your mouth, your teeth hurt, he moans as he slides his dick in and out. He likes the feeling of your warm and wet mouth, he grabs your throat as he moves into your mouth, you can taste his pre-cum. They both separately fuck your two holes, your mouth and your lower hole. You can feel tears streaming down your face, your vision goes blurry thanks to the tears. You close your eyes as they continue to move inside of you. Your eyes widen as you can feel Xiao’s sick twitching in you, you gag as you're forced to swallow his white gooey liquid. Scara soon climaxes, you can feel him filling you up, your whole body hurts as the drug is finally gone. You can feel the aftermath of the fucking, your hole hurts like hell and you whine. You just want to sleep and rest but you hear them moving around and you can hear scara’s laughter above your head. This isn't over just yet.

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ragnviindrz · 1 year

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revenge is sweet. / dottore x f! reader

info: you trick dottore into inhaling aphrodisiac, however that goes bad for you..

this content includes: DARK CONTENT, drugging, NONCON, porn w/o plot, syringes, use of scalpel, forced kissing, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, mating press, breeding kink, forced pregnancy, bleeding, pregnancy mention lmaoo im not actually sure if what i said abt the position is correct :')

note: one of my drafts got deleted so i made this instead. this was kinda rushed.

any reblogs/support is accepted!! :)

"How did this happen?" He hissed, as he dropped the syringe on the floor. You look up to see his face, flushed red. He looked like a mess, it seemed your plan worked.

He turned away from you, but was unable to hide his erection. Though, as he turned back - he noticed your smug expression. Your smile could not get any wider as you see him practically fuming. It's like he has smoke coming out of his ears like those typical cartoons.

"Hah? So it was your doing? How stupid of me to get tricked by a labrat like you. That's fine, I have another test in mind. Female anatomy is so interesting. Hm.." He spoke, as he didn't seem bothered, yet he was.

Your smile dropped immediately, as your heart did too the moment he continued, "I wonder if I could get you pregnant. A mortal, and myself... What would be the result?"

His hands reached to you, though you couldn't do much; being chained against the examination mattress. Slowly, he pushed your nightgown up revealing your naked pussy as he pretty much took every of your belonging when he took you.

"Wait– stop!" You yelled, but he didn't - he removed his gloves pushing two fingers inside you and scissoring enough to try and get you wet. He leaned closer, staring into your eyes as he forcefully kissed you, shoving his tongue in your mouth as you let out tiny moans.

Your slick coats his finger, as you adjust taking his fingers. It was like your body was overjoyed at this, but he didn't really mind as you writhe and let out gasps and moans within the kiss.

He pulled away from the kiss, string of saliva connecting the two of you. "You taste delicious.." He pulls his fingers out of you, tasting your slick.

"I believe you're ready now." He hums, as he tugged his pants down, letting his leaking cock slap onto your stomach.

"No way, Dottore.. That won't fit– please!" He doesn't answer as he removes the chain, pushing your legs and practically folding you in half.

He pushes the tip inside your slit carefully, stretching your pussy out and he muttered, "We'll make it fit, then."

As soon as he finishes his sentence, he shoved all of his girth inside making you scream in pain. He had barely prepared you to take his huge cock, and you weren't wet enough.

You blacked out for a moment, until he slaps you awake, and in that minute you've blacked out he has grabbed hold of a scalpel, tracing it against your skin, cutting just enough to make you bleed, but not enough to harm you seriously. "So.. fucking pretty."

He thrusted in and out, as you let out gasps of pain and pleasure - your blood coating his dick but he didn't stop. He got faster and faster, as he licked the blood from the cut he made earlier.

"Did you know that the position we're in.. Is the most effective for when a man is trying to get a woman pregnant?" He groans in your ear, as he pounded your pussy. "Luckily for you, I'm close, so stay still. Okay?"

His thrusts got more erratic, as he tries to chase his orgasm. His fingers found itself on your clit, rubbing and swirling his fingers creating a circle motion.

"Please.. Hgnnh..~ Pull out.." You plead, but your plead goes in his ear and comes out the other.

"I beg y–" Your pleading was stopped as he forced an orgasm out of you, your slick coating his dick and stomach. You tightened up even more around his cock, making it impossible for him to pull out.

"You ask for me to pull out, but your body doesn't want me to. You're begging to be bred, girl. Don't worry, I'll give you what you want. After all, what doctor am I if I cannot provide you what you desperately need?" With that, he was balls deep inside you, filling your womb with cum. It was extremely hot inside you, whilst he rode his orgasm, his cum acting as a lube.

He pulled out of your cum filled pussy, as you felt extremely bloated. His white cum mixed with your blood. Dottore scoope the cum dripping out of you and shoved it back in, keeping you folded to avoid anymore of his cum spilling out.

He let you rest for a bit, until the five minute has passed - and he stood above you, his cock erect once again.

"What? Didn't think we were done, were you? It's only begun after all."

first post, woo!! thank you for reading. :)

#genshin impact smut #tw noncon #tw: dark content #dark content #genshin impact noncon #cw.pregnancy #cw.noncon #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #tw.creampie #tw.pregnancy #dottore x reader #il dottore #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin dottore

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rindearest · 1 year

Text

— END OF THE LINE

part of the bully!naoya collection

pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader

tags: NONCON, forced masturbation, groping, humiliation, degradation, train sex, public/exhibitionism, dacryphilia, analplay, spit as lube, creampie, minimal prep, reader’s rly going through it

wc: 1.4k

“Please stand clear of the doors.” The monotone yet familiar voice of the subway’s automated messages echo throughout the train. Nothing ever changes on your commute. There are three consistencies that you’ve grown used to over the years. One, it’s crowded. Two, there are never any seats by the time you get on, so you stand. And three, it’s uneventful.

Unfortunately, consistencies are not equal to guarantees.

You shuffle your way to the nearest available handle, grabbing it while trying to make yourself smaller as other passengers squeeze past you and reposition themselves. It feels more cramped than usual, but it’s nothing you can’t adapt to. Dozens of people enter and leave at each stop and you’re shoved around more than you’d like. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’ve grown used to this. In the midst of this frenzy, someone pushes right against your back, so you adjust accordingly and take a small step forward.

They follow.

They’re pressed harder against your back now, hand tracing the curve of your waist before heading lower, lower until it flips up the hem of your skirt. Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart beating harder with each second. This can’t be happening, right? Maybe you’re just imagining this. But when you pull down on the hem of the fabric, the stranger’s hand pulls up.

You look back in horror to see a familiar face, one that makes your skin crawl. Naoya smirks in amusement as your eyes widen in panic. One arm wraps around your waist to bring you closer to him, the other slipping into your underwear to rub lazily around your clit.

“Let go of me please.” Your voice trembles with each word, your gaze nervously shifting between Naoya’s face and his hand on your cunt. He’s getting off on this sick sense of pleasure from teasing you, his smile growing as he takes in the sight of you: the tremble of your lip, the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“And why would I do that?”

Your hand shakes as you attempt to move his hand away from your cunt, only for him to grab it. His fingers wrap around yours, shoving your hand into your underwear. You can’t escape his grip as he forces you to play with yourself, tracing circles around your clit. You bite down on your lip, doing your best to quell any lewd noises leaving your mouth.

“Look at you, playing with yourself in front of all these people. Have you no shame?” His breath is unpleasantly warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Naoya presses harder against you, heat emanating from his pants as his clothed erection rubs against your ass.

You don’t want to give in to the growing pleasure in your core, not around this many people and certainly not at the hands of Naoya.

“Don’t be shy now.” His finger hooks into your mouth, another pressing down on your tongue. You choke out heavy breaths, doing your best to keep your voice down to no avail. Naoya’s hand goes lower, forcing two of your fingers (and his) into your hole.

“You’re this wet? Always knew you were a slut.”

“I-I’m not, please just stop-”

“And waste this?” He pulls his fingers away from your slit for a second, bringing them closer to your face. You watch in horror as he splits his fingers apart, your arousal thinning out before breaking apart. “Don’t think so.”

The sound of rustling fabric and a belt unbuckling makes your stomach drop. Naoya’s finger pulls aside your underwear as he slides his cock up and down on your folds.

“N-no, please don’t, I-”

“P-please don’t what?” He pouts sarcastically, mimicking your stutter before slowly inserting himself into you.

The stretch burns as you nearly yell in pain before covering your mouth and biting down on the skin of your palm. Naoya takes his time, savoring each inch entering your warm cunt and groaning once he finally bottoms out.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.” he retorts sarcastically, emphasizing the pet name with an artificial sweetness.

His first thrust hits deep, knocking the air out of your lungs. You want nothing more than to scream at him to stop, but knowing him, it’d only get his cock harder. Each thrust feels harder than the last, as if he’s trying to force a cry out of you. You can barely keep yourself on your toes as he fucks into you, loud, wet noises of skin slapping echoing throughout the train. As he continues, the pain subsides and an undeniable pleasure starts to take its place, one you don’t want to indulge.

“Come on, let everyone hear what a pathetic little slut you are.” His hand swipes your hand away from your mouth, allowing everyone on the train to hear your soft hiccups mixed in with moans. Some wandering eyes catch wind of what’s going on, but nobody intervenes. They step away or avert their gazes if your eyes meet theirs. To your horror, everyone refuses to acknowledge what’s happening.

Your heart drops as you feel a finger prodding at your asshole, threatening to penetrate.

“You won’t mind if I have some fun with this, right?” You can hear the smile in his voice before he spits on his fingers and rubs the tight ring of muscle. You twitch involuntarily, the viscous liquid feeling uncomfortable and foreign against your skin.

“No, no, I’ve never d-done anything like this before, please!” You beg, hoping to garner even a modicum of sympathy. Any hope you had fizzles out with his response.

“Please? Well, if you say so.”

The feeling is unfamiliar, unwelcome all the less. His finger feels foreign as it enters, a stretch that causes tears to run down your cheeks, a scream that dies in your throat. He unceremoniously inserts another as you bite down on your lip to ground yourself, nearly drawing blood from the force.

His lips hover over the crook of your neck, you can feel them curl into a smile before he bites down on the skin. You can’t hold your sobs back, coughs and hiccups interlaced between your cries.

“Cry more for me. It really gets me going.” he growls into your ear before thrusting harder.

You wouldn’t be able to stop your tears if you tried. You can barely see anything in front of you with them blurring your vision but it’s probably for the best. Unfortunately, being blind to your surroundings only intensifies your senses. The slick sounds of your cunt being fucked rings louder in your ears, the stretch from his fingers sting a little bit more. But the more he plays with you, the more your body gets used to being used.

You hate the pleasure that keeps growing with him hitting your deepest spots, ones you never had the chance of exploring yourself. It’s too much, overwhelming as he scissors his fingers inside your ass while thrusting into your cunt. It’s a battle of mind against body as you try to ignore the pleasure building in your core. Your breath only gets shorter, head lighter until the pressure comes to a head. You can’t hold back any longer as you come undone, legs trembling as your walls squeeze and contract around his cock. You barely recognize the lewd noises spilling from your lips, garnering the attention of a few passengers.

“Fuck, it’s like you’re begging me to cum inside you. You want that, don’t you?”

You have no response, can’t give a response when your brain has been turned to mush, your body spent from overstimulation. The noises that escape you sound more like agreeable moans than cries of resistance, and Naoya treats them as such.

“I’m glad you’ve learned your place.”

His pace quickens until he finishes with one last thrust, cock twitching as it paints your walls with his seed. The moment he removes himself from you entirely, your legs give out on you as you gracelessly drop onto the floor.

“This is the end of the line. All passengers must exit at this time. Connections to…” The monotone voice sounds unfamiliar as it echoes throughout an emptying train, well past your usual stop, as all of the passengers scatter to exit. Naoya hovers over you, looking down on you with a dark gaze and a sly grin.

“Maybe I’ll take the train more often.”

#naoya zenin smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #naoya zenin x reader smut #sen writes #sen fics #s.jjk #bully!naoya #cw.noncon

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yinyuedijun · 3 months

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✧ RULES/BYF ✧

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this blog posts and interacts with dark content. please have your filters set up for major content warnings (see below) before following this blog.

related to the above: I am anti-censorship. I draw clear distinctions between fiction and reality and it influences my writing. I will likely block you if you engage in censorship discourse and invite you to do the same.

I shitpost and chatter like it's my full time job. block #yueshuo and #yueshuo.asks if you don't want to see any of that!

please be kind, respectful, and mindful of all warnings. I appreciate your help with keeping the space safe for everyone ♥️

✧ CONTENT/WARNINGS ✧

I only write reader inserts. I try to keep them neutral, but sometimes I need to define a gender or cultural/ethnic background for the plot. in terms of anatomy in nsfw works, readers are usually either afab or neutral. notes will always specify.

I age up characters. any time I discuss a character in an nsfw context, I am envisioning them as an adult in their early 20s at minimum. please understand this or block me if you're uncomfortable with it.

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here are some specific warnings you might want to block, as I have written and reblogged works pertaining to these in the past, and may someday do again in the future:

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cw.omegaverse

cw.monsterfucking

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cw.noncon / cw.dubcon

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koemiii · 1 year

Text

cw.noncon/dubcon, kazuha taking advantage of you, piv, softdom!kazuha, reader wears a skirt, fingering, manipulation (?, humiliation, (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

imagine…bestie!kazuha taking advantage of his friend(you, his little cutie friend!!) while you’re drunk, his hands trailing further more on your thighs, while you’re hiccuping and giggling at the same time, ghosting his fingers under the thin fabric of your panties. Pulling you on his lap, hand sliding underneath your skirt, being unknownst to you. Toying with your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit and sliding some fingers into your cunt, but you still don’t know what’s happening, mind in a haze. When your ask him what is he doing, he tells you to focus what’s on the table rather than his…hands. Kazuha then brought you to his home since you’re too drunk to do anything!! He's just so nice!! With your limbs not listening your orders, you can’t stop what’s kazuha doing right now. He’s taking off your clothes and sliding his dick inside you, thrusting ever so fast. Screams and pleas of embarrassment, pleasure and pain mixed together. You didn't want this, this is too much to bear with!! But kazuha promises that he’ll treat you well after this, you have no choice but to oblige. After all, he’s your reliable best friend, no?

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yutaleks · 1 month

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obsession is such an ugly word

yuuta x female reader, length 5.2K CW: Yuuta's POV // yandere // alcohol // non-con groping/dry humping/somnophilia A/N: this is a repost from my previous blog, with some small edits. Banner by @/cafekitsune. Part of Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Rage simmers beneath Yuuta's skin.

He's been good about it, about you. He did it all the right way: had you warm up to him, become friends, even spend time together outside of class. You shared the same major (after he switched, though you didn't know that), so it was easy to find that pretty smile of yours in every class he'd taken this year. He tried to do this naturally, to have you grow closer and closer to him until you'd never want to be apart.

That was his plan, anyway.

But you're stubborn. He likes that about you, but it's made things difficult.

"I'm sorry, Okkotsu-san." The formality stung. "I'm so busy with my studies... dating would be a distraction, you know? Can we just be friends, for now?"

For now. To anyone else that would signify a rejection, but to Yuuta it didn't. Your words for now meant you'd change your mind later, surely. Besides, you're the one who came crawling back just a couple days later. You couldn't stand to be apart for long, could you? See, he just had to be patient a little longer.

Tonight’s the night he’s been waiting for: the semester’s over now. He’s going to ask you again to be his, now that your excuses have no merit. He’s been waiting for this ever since you rejected him. And true love is worth waiting forever for.

But he finds that being patient is hard when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol and he has to sit back and watch someone else try and make a move on you. He's been so good, so patient. And this classmate, someone so unimportant Yuuta can't even remember his name, he thinks he can earn your stubborn heart in one night?

The table you're currently sitting in hosts four: Maki sits closest to the wall, and you sit beside her. The seat across from Maki is empty; Nobara was here but left earlier in the night as she's leaving for the countryside, heading home to be with her family. She seemed to be rather eager to leave Yuuta's side, and it’s for the best. The feeling's mutual.

It leaves Yuuta alone across from you, guarding the real estate at his side with his life, as he wants any chance at all to get some time alone with you. At least, he was guarding it with his life, until a certain pink-haired freshman showed up wanting to talk to you and you offered him the seat across from you, no care at all for Yuuta's unspoken plans with you.

"Kampai!" the voices of everyone at the tables around him shout in unison, yours included, everyone clinking together their beer glasses in the middle. Some graduating senior a couple of tables away had made a speech about the end of the semester, and his words were met with smiles from ear to ear. Yuuta doesn't join your cheer, too busy staring at you and steeping in his barely muted aggravation as he glares at his cheap beer bubbling gently in his mug. He’s starting to think he came to this stupid party for nothing.

But a sudden shout startles him from his thoughts.

"Okkotsu-kun!" His eyes widen as you shove your beer glass towards him, "Cheer up, won't you? You've been so quiet all night," a chuckle escapes your lips. "Well, quieter than normal. It's our last day, cmon. Toast with me!"

"Yeah, Yuuta," Maki yells over the noise, "Stop being a stick in the mud."

He weakly holds out his glass, heart beating just a little bit faster as your beer glasses collide in the middle. The fact that you're thinking of him, including him in your fun... You're sweet to him, always. His grin grows wider as you pull back and take a swig, encouraging him with a wiggle of your brows to do the same.

You wipe your damp lips and giggle as Maki turns and says something to you, the rest of the bar way too loud for him to hear it. He looks back down at the piss-yellow beer in his glass, trying his hardest to focus and pick up on the sound of your conversation. But a loud voice interjects before he can hear you:

"Sempai!" the pink-haired annoyance beside him chimes in, leaning over the table at the izakaya to talk to you. It's the guy who's been trying to get your attention all night, a bright-eyed freshman who's very eager and, to Yuuta, incredibly brazen. Isn't it obvious from how much Yuuta sticks to your side and how much you smile around him that Yuuta's the only one for you? This freshman should be able to tell—everyone should.

It makes him sick.

"Half-way finished with uni," the freshman yells over the noise, a smile audible in his voice. “How does it feel?"

That's right, Yuuta remembers, this gathering is to celebrate the end of the semester. Yuuta never cared about these things, not before meeting you. To him tonight was an opportunity to get closer to you; he didn’t care what the actual reason for the gathering was.

You smile at the freshman. Yuuta tells himself it's different from the way you smile at him. Fake. Your eyes don’t twinkle the same, he tells himself. The confirmation calms the rolling boil of his blood, just a little.

"I'm glad," you nod, blinking up brightly at the freshman across from you. "Knowing you're halfway to the finish line is comforting, you know?"

Yuuta's gaze zeros in on your lips as you speak. You've put on lipstick tonight, a cherry red shade that looks shiny, pretty against your skin. You don’t normally wear such bright colors; you only did once, during a presentation, most days opting for that light blue little ball of chapstick you always use instead of any color. Maybe the fact that you wore a special lipstick meant that you had given this gathering just a little more importance. Is it cause he’s here? It must be.

As he stares, he wishes he could touch your lips, watch your lipstick smear and dull as it coats his lips, his fingers, his—

"What about you, Okkotsu-sempai?"

"I'm sorry?" He blinks out of his reverie, shakes his head as he wills the thoughts of you in compromising situations away.

"You're halfway through too," the freshman smiles at him. Yuuta wonders who gave him the right to breathe. "You must be happy!"

"Not really," Yuuta starts. A frown forms on the other guy's face, a question evidently on his tongue as he bites his lip. Yuuta doesn't elaborate, turning back to take a sip on his beer.

"Okay then."

Maki laughs, "Itadori don't mind him, he's just being a dick."

"I know what will lighten you up, Okkotsu!" You're looking at him again with the goofy smile. You're tipsy at worst, sloshed at best, but he just finds this side of you endearing too.

He waves his hand, dismissing you with a soft smile. "I'm okay, don't worry about me, I—"

"Let's get some soju!"

***

"Soju was a bad idea."

It's Maki, who's just a little more than buzzed, that puts an end to your many rounds of drinks. Yuuta wasn't very interested in drinking, so he sipped on one shot-glass of soju for the evening, while you, Maki, and Itadori went toe-to-toe on shots of fruity alcohol. Maki's always had great endurance, alcohol included, but you and Itadori are nothing short of plastered.

It turns out, Yuuta discovers just moments before the end of your drinking, that Itadori has a boyfriend. After downing the last shot of peach soju, Itadori's phone rings and he drunkenly answers with sobbing, whining professions of love to the owner of a dull, annoyed voice residing on the other side of the call. As Itadori's face falls down onto the wooden table, his phone slides out of his palm, and Yuuta gets a glance at the screen. It's a woman's name, Megumi, with a bunch of nonsensical emojis at the end. Yuuta doesn't pay much more attention to him after that—as long as he's not competition, Itadori's not worth thinking about anymore.

You however... you're leaning your head on Maki's shoulder, mumbling about how pretty you think Maki is. Yuuta doesn't want to have Maki on his bad side but he's certainly regretting letting her sit next to you right now, when that could've been him.

"Hey, wake up," Maki shakes your shoulder, and your head rolls with each gesture. "It's time to go home."

Your movements are slow and clumsy as you rise from the table. Itadori has Yuuta boxed in between the aisle and the wall, so he can't do much but watch as Maki helps you rise from your seat.

"Time to go home," you say, your voice whispy and far-away. Maki props you up on her shoulder.

"I'll walk home with yo—"

"Wait!" Yuuta rises from the seat, pushing a sleeping Itadori out and onto the floor. The poor guy doesn’t even flinch and he tumbles onto the wood, slamming face-first against the grain. "I'll take her home." When Maki shoots him a look, he adds, “It's on the way for me. I don't mind it. Besides, you drank more than me, Maki."

Maki quirks a brow but trusts her friend. With eyes pointing down to the freshman, she says, “Okay. I’m close by here so I’ll keep an eye on the freshman till his boyfriend gets here. You get her home in one piece, alright?”

“Of course.”

Yuuta’s mood flips entirely, beaming as he dashes out of the izakaya and into the frigid February night with you in tow. How’d he get so lucky to be the one to walk you home? Maybe this insufferable gathering was worth it after all.

“Okkotsu-kuuuun,” you give his cold hand a healthy swing once you’re outside, walking down the street towards the closest train station. It’s a short subway trip to your apartment, but with how intoxicated you are, it’s best he gets you home safely.

“Careful,” he adjusts your linked hands, until your fingers are interlocked. He tucks you closer to his side when he feels how unbalanced you are. “You drank a little too much,”

“It’s okay,” you smile. Maybe it’s not so bad you’re drunk, since you’ve never smiled this much at him before. “You’re here, Okkotsu-kun.”

You trip over a piece of cracked concrete in the sidewalk and he catches you, pinning you to his chest. You stifle a giggle, something about the circumstances of it all is so silly to you.

“You can’t walk,” Yuuta bends down, his hands coming together at his back. “Get on.”

“What if I’m heavy?”

“I’ll be fine. Get on.”

You take him up on his offer and sit on his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands have a firm grip on your thighs. He��s stronger than you’d expect, having no issue at all balancing you on his back. A little hum of approval leaves your lips that makes Yuuta glad he’s put so much effort into being strong for you.

The one thing that does make him feel a little weak is how much he loves your scent. You still smell just like strawberries, though it’s a little tainted with the smell of apple and peach liquor. He’d only ever gotten to smell you up close that one time in the library. And those other times when you’re not able to notice…

“Okkotsu-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you know where I live?”

Oh, that’s right. You haven’t told him where you live before. He freezes for a moment, the seriousness in your voice a sudden change from the bubbly, sweet drunken drawl you’ve had for the last hour.

You add, “Did Nobara give you our address?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He nods, and continues to walk with you in tow. “Before she left, in case you needed help getting home.”

“Mm… she’s such a good friend,” you smile, laying your head against the back of his. Your body goes limp, and Yuuta wonders if you’re about to fall asleep as he carries you home… he doesn’t mind, but a part of him wishes you weren’t so drunk. It’s rare for him to get a chance like this, and it hurts to feel like he’s wasting it as your deep breaths warm his neck.

***

When you both arrive to your apartment there’s an eerie stillness about the apartment complex, perhaps due to the time of night as well as the thin, cold air. You’re still passed out, sleeping on Yuuta’s back, when he fishes a key from the dirt in a nearby potted plant you keep on the steps to unlock your front door. When you wake he’ll smile when you ask how you got home; he’ll tell you he borrowed your keys. The walls that know the truth will silently harbor his secrets.

Yuuta doesn’t need to turn on the lights; he could maneuver this place blind if need be.

He toes off his shoes at the small genkan, the tiles stretching perhaps just a couple of square feet. After closing the door, he shifts your weight on his back as he takes one large step over the tile (he wouldn’t dare be rude and drag in any dirt). Through the kitchen, around your small island, and two doors to the left is your bedroom. He takes you there, and lays you down flat upon your bedding. He takes off your shoes for you, and once you’re sleeping soundly in your bed he does a mad dash for the genkan, to leave your shoes there for you once you awaken.

Yuuta returns just as quickly as he left, and with the moonlight that pours through your windows he observes your sleeping face. With lips parted you heave a heavy sigh, like a tired puppy sprawled upon a cushioned bed after a day of play. He debates whether he should change you out of your day clothes—he wonders if you would want to sleep in something more comfortable. You usually do; he recalls your pajamas of choice are a t-shirt and panties. Should he change you into that now?

The thought of taking off your clothes overwhelms him a little, excitement buzzing his synapses alive.

The first thing to go is your socks. They are tiny little things, at least smaller than his own, cut low to the ankle. He slips them off with no protest at all from you, his thumbs gliding across the arch of your foot as if tracing it and committing it to memory. Briefly, Yuuta glances up at you, but the touch of his hands across your heel, and then your ankles, does nothing to affect your state of consciousness. Can he get away with all of it without disturbing you? It’s a little challenge he’s decided to embark, to see how far he can push it tonight.

With eyes focused entirely on your cherry lips, on the soft breath that flows in and out past your just slightly open mouth, he continues. You’re wearing a pair of jeans, which he unhooks at the button just below your midriff. It gives him just the smallest peek at your panties underneath, something dark and lacey that pops against your skin. He swallows the desire that pools under and around the frenulum beneath his tongue as he lowers your zipper. Yuuta tells himself he’s just helping you get comfortable. Truly, to him, this is the ultimate test of his patience.

Long, chilled fingers hook themselves beneath your waistband at either side of your hips. He starts to tug down. Within seconds you begin to squirm and Yuuta freezes, afraid that you will wake up and find him in such a compromising scenario. Would you believe him if he said this was only to help you? His visage, that of a gentleman that is rooted so deeply in your memory, would it assure you in your moment of confusion, or would it be corrupted and shattered? would this be his undoing?

He doesn’t have to wonder for long because as soon as your jeans are past the widest point of your thighs, you’re back to being boneless against your bedding. Part of him expected a little more fight from you; he’d thought his favorite girl was a little more inclined to self-preservation. The thought is followed by the notion that you must be trusting of him, even subconsciously. He loves that about you, the faith in him that no one else has. You’re so trusting. He’ll protect your naivety, along with the other qualities of yours that he finds so endearing. Innocence that only he wishes to keep, that no one else will dare corrupt.

Your jeans pool at the ankles before Yuuta gently slips them down over your feet and off your body. The panties you wore tonight are one of those cheeky kind, giving him the loveliest image of the fullness of your thighs and the curve of your hips. Your body’s more beautiful up close than he could have imagined, and he lets himself drag an open hand up one of your thighs, to feel how soft and supple you are. A thumb slips under your panties, the edge that’s just at your hip bone, just to let himself feel… it’s so hard being this close. There’s so much he wants to do with you, to you, but he’s sure it will happen in time. He tells himself he’s a patient man as he salivates at the thought of ripping your panties off.

He doesn’t. But he wants to.

Your sweater, which is both a little too tight and a little too revealing (for his taste), is another beast to tackle. Yuuta deliberates it for some time before deciding the risk of waking you if he were to take it off is too great. After much back and forth, he decides to leave it alone.

He tries to stand up from the crouched position at the edge of the bed but he finds it’s very hard to stay away from you after even one touch. Curiosity has him brushing his fingers over your clothed midsection, tracing the dip in your waist, his thoughts running a mile a minute. You’re so soft, so very vulnerable. How many guys who had approached you had seen what he sees in you? The beauty in something as simple yet as divine as your body… whenever he thinks about it there’s an urge to gauge their eyes out. He’d done some damage with his fists but it wasn’t permanent, so it wasn’t enough.

His fingers shake a little as they approach the apex between your thighs. His lips part and brows furrow in concentration; fingertips just barely kissing the dark fabric that clings to your skin. It’s so warm, and the patch at the center has just the slightest hint of dampness. A middle finger glides between clothed puffy lips, first over the hood, then over a dipping point, what must be your entrance. Your breath hitches as he presses just a little harder. He wants to taste it—no, he needs to.

You whimper a little when he pushes just a bit too hard. He pulls away instantly, and the breath he’d been holding exits his body, the strain in his shoulders flowing out in waves. His jeans feel uncomfortably tight. Look at what you did, with just one single sound. He’s never been more excited; to know that even a single sound that left your mouth was entirely his doing drives him mad.

The finger that he had pressed against your clothed pussy now presses against his tongue. He doesn’t taste anything, to his disappointment.

He wants to satiate this need that boils in the pit of his stomach but, at least in this small moment of clarity, he thinks he can try to wait for a day when he will get your permission. He is patient, after all.

Yuuta, in his frenzy to distract himself from your body warming the bed sheets in front of him, chooses to focus on the state of your bedroom. It’s a place that, at least to your knowledge, he’s never seen before.

It is in what he would consider to be a state of below-average cleanliness. This does not come as a surprise to him, and luckily with your state of consciousness (or rather, lack thereof), he does not expend the effort to pretend to be shocked.

Despite the fact that finals have come and gone, the floor closest to the wall is littered with open textbooks and notebooks covered in haphazard scrawl. Clothes bulge out from your closet across from the bed, dark and light fabrics alike poking through the spaces between the slats, as if you had way too much clothes and not enough space nor enough of a care to organize it all. In the corner, just beside the entry door, is a wicker basket overflowing with laundry: among the articles are pair of jeans shoved into the edge; a sweater with a sleeve hanging out, reaching for your door knob to hide your mess; and panties, so many panties. Some patterned, with florals or little animals, and others cheeky, thin little strings that barely constitute cloth garments at all. The thought of you wearing such a little thing, barely an excuse for clothing at all, stirs something in him, something fierce and heady brewing between his thighs. Had you worn that around him? Have you ever thought of him taking it off of you? He’s thinking about it; thinking about it with such excruciating detail it makes his body sweat.

As he enters a staring contest with the pile of panties, he stops to consider the situation he finds himself in. You’re drunk, and the last thing that would curry favor with you would be to take advantage of you, so he shoves that away to the recess of his mind. You believe him to be a gentleman. So a gentleman he shall be.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t poke around.

He rummages through your laundry and he plucks out a few of your panties from the pile. Under the beam of moonlight, he looks them over: they must be at least a few days old, as they are no longer flimsy and fresh, just a little stiff. As if at one point they had been warm and wet, but no longer so. They’re soiled and dried out after sitting in your laundry. He picks the one he judges to be the worst offender. It’s a cute one—lacy at the edges, cotton in the middle.

He bunches it up in his fist. Then, he lifts it to his face. When Yuuta brings the wad of fabric to his nose he takes a long inhale, a satisfied moan threatening to break past his lips. He loves you so wholly and unconditionally, including the scent of your sex that lingers on your laundry. Especially so.

It’s not wrong if he does it out of love is it? It’s not disgusting if it’s love, right?

He tells himself so as he fills his nostrils with your scent, aroused by your discarded underwear like a fucking dog. He hovers over your laundry basket, forehead pressed against the wall, the tent in his jeans becoming more and more pressing of an issue to fix.

“Look at what you do to me,” he sighs, breath warming the panties that he keeps pressed to his face. He knows you can’t hear him. But he wants you to look. He wants you to see him, see how desperately and ardently he feels for you.

His free hand makes quick work of his jeans—he snaps the button open with his index and thumb, and then soon after works the zipper down. His open palm snakes down, under the waistband of his boxers, and tugs on his length to alleviate his erection, even a little.

As he takes another breath from behind the veil of your dirty underwear, he pumps at his cock. He does it slowly, savoring the moment he can finally get so close with you still in the room.

Can you see him? Do you see how much he wants you?

Yuuta, despite what he believes, is not, in fact, a creature of patience. Within a few strokes he hears you sigh and he turns around to face you. You look so pretty on your bed in those cute little panties and that deep-cut shirt. So pretty.

Suddenly, fucking his fist in the corner of your room facing away from you isn’t enough for him anymore. He’s so close to you, can’t he just get a little closer? He just wants to see your pretty face. He’ll apologize later. You’ll love him, so you’ll forgive him.

Yuuta moves towards your bed, on something that feels like instinct. Crawls onto your bed slowly, his breath balled in his throat as you sleep soundly. You barely flinch as the mattress dips and creaks with each slow shuffle of his knees. In one fist is your balled up panties, pressed just to the side of your head, holding up his weight. His knees are at either side of your hips as he hovers over you, caging you in like an animal of prey.

All he can focus on is your face.

Yuuta uses his free hand to swipe at your lips with his thumb, messing up the remnants of your red lipstick. He’d been wanting to do that all night, to smear the color along your skin until your natural lip color pokes through. You’re naturally so pretty—you don’t need any embellishments, not around him. But it does look quite beautiful all smeared, when it’s a mess made by his design…

He then takes his hand and cradles your jaw, moves it to the side, just enough so your sleeping face is facing his own. So he can look at you, so you can look at him too.

Just like that…

He imagines this will be his view the first time he’ll fuck you.

You haven’t told him, but he knows you’re a virgin, so you’ll probably want him to be gentle. To be soft, just like this. To take the lead, to tell you “you’re so beautiful” just as he whispers it to you now. To move his hips slowly, let you adjust to him—just as he does now, rutting his clothed cock against your tummy. He does it with a lethargic, purposeful grind of his hips.

This is exactly how you will want it. He knows you. He knows you’ll love this. He knows you’ll love him.

You move a bit below him, stretching out a leg, and it lowers his cock to just above your panties. He wasn’t going to go that far, he only wanted to see you, to feel you.

What a good girl—you want it too, don’t you?

With dark eyes focused entirely on your expressions, especially the soft little grin on your lips, he grinds his hips against your own once more. He moans when the tip of his cock catches on your clit, and feels a sudden drop in his stomach when your eyes twitch below closed eyelids. He needs to find a way to be quieter…

The panties in his balled fist are promptly shoved in his mouth, self-inflicted in an effort to quiet down/ To remain the gentleman you believe him to be. And he doesn’t mind it, actually. He even sucks on it, right on that stiff double-cotton lining in the center where he knows your pussy once was. A muffled noise leaves his lips as the tangy taste hits his tongue.

He wishes he could taste the real thing, and imagines what kind of noises you’ll make when he does.

Another push and pull of his hips, and the pleasure he feels from just rutting against your clothed pussy is overwhelming. Would he even be able to hold back when he’s inside you? What kind of incredible feeling will sex be, when just rutting on you with clothes on it feels this good?

He stops thinking too hard about this and just lets himself feel. The fabric between the two of you gets wetter with every passing minute, pre-cum leaking from his cockhead and staining your panties. His teeth gnaw hard on the fabric, drool seeping through with every labored breath. He feels as if everything were soaking wet as he’s drowning in pleasure. And he loves this feeling, wants more more more.

Something happens, then, that has never happened in all the nights he’s watched you dream. As he humps your cunt through the fabric, pushing himself closer to the brink, he hears you whimper out “Yuuta”. In the state he’s in he doesn’t question it at all; his cock catches on your hole, just between the folds of your pussy, and he comes in his boxers pressed right against your sex with a broken moan muffled by your soaked panties in his mouth. What a sorry sight to see.

He rolls himself off of you and spits out your panties into the floor. As you turn over in your sleep he lays in your bed beside you, panting and blinking at your ceiling. Did that really just happen? Did he really get to come so close to you, right on your body, right when you said his name?

He wonders if its possible to love you any more than he does right now.

Yuuta’s grinning like a fool as you lull back into deeper sleep again, your body turned to its side and facing away from him. His boxers and jeans are soaked through, and his chin and pelvis are sticky, but he has not a single care in the world.

Why would he care about anything else, when it’s so clear to him that he has you now?

He buttons his pants closed and turns on your bed, to face your back. Once he’s no longer panting, emboldened by what just happened, he slides just a little closer to you. He won’t be able to sleep, not when just being in your presence alone makes his body feel electrified. So instead, he will watch you sleep.

He slides an arm around your midsection, and curiously touches your panties with one of his fingers. It’s so wet, stained and soaked with his cum.

He’s left his mark on you, for once.

He sticks that finger in his mouth again, as he had done earlier in the night. This time, he tastes himself. And he tastes you.

Satisfied, he lays beside you, and prepares for a long night of bliss.

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #jjk x reader #writing tag #cw.yandere #cw.noncon

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spitdrunken · 3 months

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notes: Valentino being Valentino (AKA horrible), abusive ‘relationship’, manipulation/lovebombing, uneven power dynamics, loss of agency, heavily dubious consent + implied noncon, physical abuse. Essentially details the progression of how Valentino might go about pimping someone out. He's really not nice in this, be warned!

The issue with Valentino is that, when he wants to be, he can be very charming. No one wants to sell to a person who slaps them around from the very first day, right? To Valentino, first interactions are an art he has perfected and, while he cannot see very well, he does have an eye for the pathetic, and desperate. From the very way someone carries themselves, and how they speak, he can tell who would be the easiest. To discover amongst these people a few so-called ‘diamonds in the rough’, and have them bend to his every desire, is the part of his job that he takes the greatest satisfaction out of.

Perhaps you are new in Hell, the finer details of the realm entirely lost on you, unaware of Valentino’s reputation. Or you truly have nowhere else to turn to, and you decide to take your chances, the idea of fame, money and, most of all, a bit of certainty, is too appealing. Maybe you’re aware of both his reputation, and exactly aware of what kind of guy he is, and you are chasing the kind of relationships you had while alive. Living here has affirmed all of your worst beliefs about people. To be with someone who is certain to hurt you, is easier, more familiar, than someone who might… And, hey, if he’s rich, that helps too, right?

Regardless of your circumstances, Valentino would know how to make you feel special. Hell is violent, unpredictable, and truly lives up to that. Time spent with Valentino in the lavish, beautiful places he hangs out in, almost makes you feel like you aren’t in Hell at all. Sure, maybe he’s a little strict about the kind of clothes you wear, but he’s always so full of praise when you do listen. The gifts he gives are perhaps a little gaudy, but all of them are incredibly expensive, and it includes a phone of the newest series. He tells you so that it’s so you never have to leave him hanging again! And while he laughs at it like it’s a joke, and you do too, it’s the first time something in his expression truly makes you feel uncomfortable.

And wouldn’t it feel good, wouldn’t it make you feel powerful, to have a man who is so famous and powerful, who could practically have anyone, to have set his eyes upon you? While almost anyone would be a little suspicious at first, with time, perhaps you begin to believe him. Maybe you really are special, maybe the rumours about him are true, or maybe they’re not, but they don’t apply to you. You’re the exception. You- You have to be. Otherwise, what’s going to happen to you? You try not to think about it too hard, try to ignore all the talk about him that never stops going around. On social media, the stuff said about him is mostly positive. …Any negative comments you see about the Vees in general, disappear faster than you can blink.

All the while, you’re unaware of the mixture of pity and envy the other demons working for him look at you with. Oh, how they wish they could still believe there was anything good about the demon you’re standing next to. If only they still had hope for a better future. They know exactly what is going on, but even if some might want to give you a warning sign, the punishment that would be dished out for it far outweighs anything else.

You don’t see any of his employees often though, not in this stage, nor the next. Valentino prefers to keep his whores from fraternizing with each other. From his own personal experiences, his early days of being in this business, there is nothing that builds bonds between people like a common ‘enemy’ like him. He wants all of you isolated, and most miserable you can be, in all honesty.

It is exactly the moment that you start feeling a bit more secure about things, that the cracks start to show. He’ll start pressuring you into doing a shoot for Velvette. Those gifts you got you were reaaaally expensive, baby, you know that, right? You kind of owe it to him, is what he tells you. Some pictures might seem harmless enough, but once you’ve given him an inch, Valentino will never fail to take a mile. His requests become more and more pressing, his demands more and more explicit, until any ‘affection’ left in his tone has long since gone cold.

After that, you’re essentially just treated like the rest of his whores, and the exact same treatment. He’s cut you off from any support system you had left, has you living in a company-owned building and, possibly, has you under contract. Where the hell else are you supposed to go? You’d live on the streets if you were to leave now, completely to the mercy of whatever demon might stumble upon you. Now that you've featured in a couple of Valentino's films, it's safe to say that the fame you once might have desired, now becomes one of your biggest burdens. ...You know exactly what people will do to you, given the chance.

If you bring up the kind of things he used to say to you, about how special and important you were, he’d actually laugh at you right in your face. What the fuck? You can’t be serious. You actually believed all of that bullshit? Regardless of your response, it’s likely to make his temper flare, resulting in a punch to the face that knocks you backward a good couple of feet. I’ve got bitches begging to be touched by me, to even be looked at by me. You ungrateful whore.

Unfortunately for you, practically anyone who gets too closely involved with Valentino meets the same fate.

#valentino x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #valentino #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #cha.valentino #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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scara-meow-che · 3 years

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☰⠀FEATURING⠀ⵓ⠀scaramouche x fem! reader x tartaglia

⁺៹⠀DETAILS⠀ⵓ⠀NSFW ະ non-con (coercion) ະ mentions of blood ະ dacryphilia ະ threesome ະ oral (m) ະ double penetration ະ choking ະ sadism/masochism ະ electrostimulation ະ degradation ະ corruption kink ະ mind break ະ stockholm syndrome (?) ະ this is fucking long ,,, 5990 words :')

ꕤ⠀NOTES⠀ⵓ⠀this is inspired by @hoodhookage's thirst asks on scara's part because that was literally the hottest thing i've read so far about our brat of a fatui. also, i hope you like this~

the fatuis, ah, they are the people who you often kept a lookout for. their overwhelming prowess that seeps through their presence was enough to have your soul shivering within your body. their hands, clad in gloves can't even hide the blood that it had accumulated throughout the years, an unfathomable number of people who had lost their lives just because they got involved with either of their heinous crimes against a fatui or they are unlucky that they've been targeted all along.

the secrets those cold eyes held were enough to have you mesmerized from how deep it can go, from how many those keep within its abysmal hues, from how many those have seen. beautiful but dangerous, alluring but deadly—you can't grasp how much the fatuis are influential and known as a formidable force in teyvat.

just the image of them in your mind had you sighing in distress, fueling more of your anxieties as you trudge through the forest to go to the river. with your spare clothes in hand, a towel to dry yourself from the cool water, the excitement felt for the bath you longed for had now turned sour and left a foul taste in your mouth.

because those were mainly the reason why you hid away deep in the forest, keeping yourself safe and far from their reach, your judgment and decisions anchored on whatever actions they may do once they have you in their hands. all because of the name you carry.

your fool of a father who chose to anger one man in particular who you can't recall besides his orange locks and dashing blue eyes. and, to add more burden in your already miserable life, who would've thought that even in the very last moment of your father had also swelled hatred to another man who was bestowed with such beauty but with an attitude and vileness could stand alone with the gods themselves.

you shake your head once more, breathing heavily as you settle most of your apparel on the tree stump you often rest on as you read a book. the little sanctuary you have made to yourself, a little safe place to keep you away from harm, it never failed to protect you.

but as the season change, the place you opted for safety would turn into memories as it had changed you.

your e/c eyes prance around the area, feeling the tranquility so it can somehow make you forget of your worries. with each step you make with your bare feet near the water, as your hand slowly pulls down the simple white robe you have sewn months before—your mind had lulled into bliss, your skin cools down with the fresh breeze swaying along with the trees. your eyelids had closed, a dreamy sigh runs out your lips and there fell the robe you were wearing.

stark naked, comfortable in your own skin, nothing had you anxious when you melt in the sensation of the water running right up your ankles, slowly entering the gentle blanket of the river secluded from the eyes of many.

a safe place, that's what you always thought.

you sat down on this one familiar spot, where the rocks are smooth, cold against your body. you sighed in satisfaction, relaxing in the free-flowing water as if it washes away all the stress building up in you.

but nothing would ever stay the same.

there, from afar, stood two men who can't seem to control the words spit to one another. they have hatred swirling in their eyes but the moment they heard you humming a gentle tune—so innocent, so pure, it was something they want to have the leisure in bringing it towards its melancholic end. your smooth skin they pray to cover with all their bites and bruises, to destroy the softness in your eyes as theirs showed a dangerous glint on it. they were hungry, desiring to taint you so badly. such distasteful motivations to have you as their own plaything—they want nothing more than to have you right then and there.

and that's the only reason why they cooperated in the first place.

the same reason to rivet for revenge, they want to have every l/n to suffer the punishment of angering a fatui. but you were special, oh, you really are because they have different plans for you.

within the minutes of peace comes each step of both men, closing over your unsuspecting body. each calm heartbeat that thuds within your chest is every tap of their feet on the sacred grounds you keep. the simplicity of your life adorned with unyielding perturbation finally comes to an end.

"well, what do we have here? a bit crude to be bathing naked when a stranger is bound to walk in any moment." an unfamiliar voice loomed over your back, head twisting to the side only to be caught by a rough hand down your chin, tilting your face up and saw the same man with the dark navy hair, a permanent scowl in his face, eyes glowing in complete domination, belittling your fragile existence with just its strong stare.

"as expected from the likes of you," scaramouche sneers, tightening his hold on your cheeks. your soft flesh felt smooth against the pad of his fingers, something he'd adore to touch. your hands were fast to wrap around your body, trying to protect yourself but it was futile. with fear sparking inside your mind and body, hot tears had swelled in your eyes, the painful sting of scaramouche's hold on your jaw is nothing compared to how they ruined your chance in living a normal life. "aw, crying already? we haven't even done anything to you yet."

you were scared, eyes glossy as the memories you tried suppressing back had lashed out in your view, the nightmares you wished to forget blends into reality. shaking, biting down on your lips, you were shaken to see the two people who you have dedicated most of your time avoiding.

and they were here, in the flesh, breathing right in front of you.

"don't scare her off, scaramouche. we don't even know if she's the type to bite." childe muses, standing tall behind the male. his eyes held mischief and yet the way his voice sent sharp knives of ice at how cold it was worsened the fear cursing through your veins.

you can no longer keep in the tears, mind juggling one thought after another, thinking of ways to save yourself, to be at their mercy. like a mouse in a lion's den, you were cowering with your tail tucked in terror. childe laughs at your distressed state, heart beating fast to bloom in colors to his cheeks as he sees you surrendering to whatever fate you have without a fight.

he hates it when someone he meets doesn't hold any ounce of strength to push back his attacks, to defend themselves from the unrelenting blow of his arrow and slash of his sword. childe hates it when someone so weak had appeared in front of him but you were an exemption on his book.

"aren't you so adorable," childe comments in amusement, crouching down beside scaramouche where the latter moved away, scoffing with another glare sent at your way. he slides a finger on your cheeks, feeling you shiver at the touch. he smiles. "let's get you out the water before you get cold. you're shivering enough already so let's get you back to your place, yeah?"

he offers but you can't trust him yet you stood on your own feet, hands covering what you can of your body. you can feel both their eyes hungrily taking in the view of your shrinking form. the tremor of your fingers was adorable as it shields the private parts none had ever seen, their minds going overdrive at how much they want to have it locked on top of your head.

"come here, i won't hurt you—well unless that's what you want me to do." you saw how childe had one hand welcoming you in his hold, urging you to come to him but your legs felt too weak beneath you. you can't, you can't accept how they ruined your life, how they control how you lived for years, how they made every decision you made based on the fear they made you feel...

you hated this.

so you resisted, biting down your tongue to ground yourself. a show of defiance, that's what you're going to give to them and prepare for the right time to escape, to scream for help, to hope that there is another way out of this.

"too slow," scaramouche groans and went to pick you up, hands scooping on your body, and you were lifted out of the ground, not caring how you resisted in his arms. but you managed to kick off the hat that he wore. your legs went up straight to his face, momentarily catching him off guard.

"you bitch." you heard him snarled with such anger, tone low and deep. you scrambled on your feet, trying to run away but childe had caught you with one arm around your stomach, head resting down to your shoulder and there came an icy looking sword that he points at your neck. the sharp edge shimmers underneath the light seeping through the trees.

you felt his hot breath fanning your skin covered in cold sweat, the contrasting temperatures stir both fear and this disgusting rumble of excitement on your core. his lips went from your neck up to your ears and he whispered, "i told you, if you don't want to get hurt then you should know how to obey."

"why would i?" you thought but came out as you unconsciously whispered the words. childe's eyes widen in surprise, a deep chuckle echoes in his chest and it rumbles just right on top of your back. you stand firm, waiting for your end but all you felt was his free hand gliding up your forearms and quickly wrapped itself on your neck.

you let out a choked whimper, head tilting back his shoulder as he pressed you closer to his body. the liquified sword was suddenly retracted back and he moved quickly and placed a hand on your abdomen, slithering down to your crotch.

"get away from m-me." your words came out as a strangled plea, the tight hold childe has on your throat was too much, your lungs struggling as it slowly ran out of air. your hands were desperately pulling him away but he was just too strong compared to you. when he sees your eyes going back your head, bits of drool lulling out of your tongue down to your chin, he lets go of your throat but still had it wrapped around you, "for good measure," as he thought.

in a few seconds of you coughing for air, your eyes peaked up and saw scaramouche walking in front of you. the scowl and glare he has on you were terrifying, pushing more adrenaline in your body as your fight defenses slowly lose against the looming fear he gives you. those eyes of his were lifeless as he gazes down at your quivering body and all you could do was observe, behave, wait for his next move.

you follow his hand that worms its way up to your chest, running a finger down to your breasts, circling on your nipples that harden in the contact. "i was about to reconsider the idea of being nice to you but you just know how to anger me, like your old man."

and that's when you felt it, the sharp sting from the tip of his finger on your aroused bud. you buckled in childe's hold, a strained wanton moan escapes your lips as your body reacted to scaramouche's advances. he smirks, condescendingly so, and gave your other nipple the same electrifying shock. resulting in another moan on your part.

"oh, take a look at that," he whimsically muttered when he kept on shooting small electric currents on your body, venturing towards your core that childe had spread open with the use of one knee. scaramouche's finger was leisurely taking their time to slide around your body as if to tease you.

it felt disgusting.

"you're already wet," he nonchalantly throws out in the air, smirking when he easily pushes in a finger through your folds, your skin felt smooth against his touch that he hums while looking for your clit.

and as soon as he found the small mound on your crotch, he gave it another zap and the feeling was more intense than what you've felt on your nipples as this had you pathetically grinding up your hips, your body surrenders to the pleasurable sting of pain despite your mind saying 'no'.

"a desperate whore, fitting for a woman who came from a good-for-nothing man. bring her back to her house." scaramouche commanded and childe laughs in response.

"you already hogged on her attention then i think it's fitting if you're the one who should carry her." he lets you go, body falling on the ground. your hands had barely held you up, knees scraped on the rough patches on land and scaramouche had let out an annoyed 'tsk'.

you've scarred her skin. you fool." while you wince in the pain coming from your knees, scaramouche had pulled on your hair, jerking your head to meet his gaze. "i swear if you ever do something funny, i won't hesitate to kill you. do you understand?"

with a weak nod and a low 'yes' from your trembling lips, scaramouche smirks in satisfaction.

"good. now walk, you whore." with that, you stood up and shakily followed each step he took towards your home. within every second, you pray for your life, within every minute your heart thumps heavily inside your chest, the mixture of embarrassment and fear had been prominent in controlling your thoughts.

what are they going to do to you? would you still live after this? would it be better if you just die already?

millions of thoughts ran through your mind as you crashed in the back of scaramouche when he paused right in front of the door of your house. he looks back at you, glowering at how you mindlessly bumped into him. as much as he's annoyed and impatient, he sighed and opens the unlocked knob, an eyebrow raised in fascination.

"you really think you can hide away from us, huh? feeling so safe in here," he scoffs, pulling you by the wrist and trapped you in the wall of the entrance. you whimpered in pain, looking away as you're afraid you'd get killed right inside your safe place, well, what used to be your safe place.

"but don't worry, we'll have to make some arrangements with you first, to atone for the sins of your useless father and family." the painful hold on your wrist tightens as scaramouche pulls you in and had you crashing down on your bed, body sprawled out but cowers small in being naked in front of the two men.

since you live alone, you spare no privacy for your own little quarter, the small entryway connecting the living room that serves as your bedroom and kitchen on the other side.

you need nothing of luxury. you never intended to desire such an extravagant life but your heart knew too well how humans are greedy, how they can't be content with whatever's given. they take and take and take until there's nothing left to offer.

your father, your family who had fallen victim to the vile nature of humans had cursed you this life and now you're the one repaying what they had extracted, what they've speculated more than the power their name had given them. still, your tears didn't stop from pouring in hot droplets on your burning skin, eyes sizzling in pain when your hair was yet again yanked by scaramouche, hands that covers your chest goes up in pulling away from his grip on your locks, your scalp aches with every strand he tugs on.

"listen here f/n," he started, whispering close but his eyes never once left yours. in a heartbeat, his other hand slithered once more on your bare chests, upwards the valley of your breasts, leaving sparks of his power on your skin. he can feel your breathing grow heavy by the minute, legs involuntarily grinding on one another as the infliction of pain surges nothing but euphoria in your head.

disgusting, you felt awful about yourself but the strong jolts it gives on your tensed nerves had you choking down your moans. it felt too good when scaramouche zaps you with every move of his finger, teasing you slowly then flashes this hot shot of electricity on your body. while you squirm in the comforts of the mattress with your hair locked between the male's fingers, he had you right where he wanted you.

"obey our every command and we'd take good care of you. the debts embedded in your name excised by us, just how you wanted to. but—," for a second, he pauses to take in your quivering form in his hold, thighs clenched and teeth pressed down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from speaking up. "—once you defy our orders, we have no choice but to leave you in your blood bath."

did you hear that right? for a moment, his voice sounded soft in your ears, his lips barely touching your skin but felt as if he gave you a kiss. you could only nod in response, still trying to look for your voice shoved down by the angst corrupting your senses. scaramouche picks you up and placed your body against him, bits of his clothes' accessories felt cold on your skin, fitting what you saw in those indigo hues.

"ah, you always love having fun with her. let me have a go," childe complains at the side, placing both his hands on your thighs to separate them apart. you let out a whimper, barely even able to react to how he settled between your legs, his blue orbs shining in hunger as he admires the arousal coating your sex.

childe licks his lips, moving his head towards your cunt. you resisted the actions being done to you, even when you're dizzy at how fast and sudden everything goes, you tried prying your legs closed but childe was just too strong.

"i told you, didn't i?" you heard scaramouche whisper behind you, his hands started to massage your breasts, placing your perked mounds between his fingers, twitching it, flicking on the sensitive nipples. you arched your back in the intense feeling, adding more to your little cries were the loud slurps childe does on your dripping hole.

"you're barely hanging on a thin thread to save your life f/n, so stop being stubborn. or you'd rather suffer a painful death?" scaramouche's voice echoes in your head, the word death had your head shaking in fear.

you shook your head no while you utter out hideous noises of how you were enjoying every second childe slurps and laps on your juices, his fingers massaging the soft flesh of your thighs just right, eyes darting up to see how your face warped into a depraved one, lust induced orbs fluttering at every sensation burning inside of you, the fire kindling within as scaramouche's fingers never once faltered in zapping and flicking your hard buds.

"do you like this?"

the question snapped you out of the dreamy reverie, jolting out of their grip but it was futile yet you resisted. you don't like this, do you? you were confused because what they're doing to you felt just right.

"ah! dear archons!" your toes curled when childe sucked on your clit, lips nipping at your sensitive nub. your hands went to pull at his hair, scaramouche letting you be with this small smile. the more you writhe and flail at how much childe simultaneously suck and lick on your cunt, the more you felt scaramouche get hard behind you. his hard on prominent at how it poked through his shorts that your lower hip often brushes against the throbbing cock.

he hisses in your ear at one particular jolt from your body, the supple and plush flesh of your ass grind hard on him. barely able to control himself, with dazed senses, he unknowingly increased the input of electricity he leaves on your body, the shock had danced with fire on your veins.

"'s too much! it’s p-painful!" you whimpered out, eyes closing shut when childe thrusts his fat tongue inside your hole. the gentle strokes on your skin fight the storm of pleasure wreaking havoc inside your body, the warm and wet feeling of childe’s muscles going in and out of you is a foreign fount of rapture, one you never knew and never have wished to know but it was too addicting. you wanted to get more out of it, causing your hips to buck up, grinding to meet childe’s precise jut of his tongue on your sex.

“painful? you should learn not to lie, f/n. your body seems to do a great job in being honest with us. cooperate, will you?” the indigo-haired man said before he leaves kisses on your neck, biting down on your shoulder, sucking on the parts you felt the weakest. you felt your abdominal muscles stiffen, the new sensation that tightens inside your body had your mind temporarily shutting off, legs shaking in childe's hold as you felt the intense feeling building up from the deepest parts of your body, sweat glistens on your skin, lips plump and red from how much you bite down on it.

your eyes teared up at how conflicted you were, losing in the battlefield of fear and lust, your body betraying you on every second that passes. the sharp sting on your chest from smooth hands, the heavy strokes and hungry draw of a tongue on your soppy cunt—the knot you thought would only arouse from the looming fear you were so familiar from had you screaming in bliss.

you can no longer hold back the swelling between your legs, a euphoric flood crashed down on you in large waves. childe can feel how your walls tightened around him, a mad smile quirking on his lips as he continued sucking on your cunt, ignoring the cries and strong pull on his hair. overwhelmed, light-headed, breathless, you looked so divine to the two fatuis. they will have so much fun with you.

“what a pretty sight, again.” in minutes, you were a sobbing and creaming mess, childe successfully pulling out the most salacious noise and prurient cries from your throat as he didn’t once falter nor paused in sucking all your cum. beautiful, they thought as they listen to your wrenched sobs.

scaramouche finds pleasure when he can see the tears endlessly spilling out of your eyes like the way you kept on making a wet mess between your thighs. getting a little angsty as childe hogs over your body, the young man moved your head to the side and kissed you, burying your noises as he bites on your lower lips, taking advantage of your mouth opening to gasp, and his tongue swirls and sucks on you so good, your mind was getting foggy and dizzy from all the pleasure.

addicting, you never wonder why but you're submerged in the depths of lust and of your own fears. a large part of you scolds you on why you were letting them take advantage of your own weakness, of your body susceptible to this humane avidity to seek only pleasure, even if it's mixed with pain.

torn, your heart constricts and bleeds being wrapped in the thorns of discord—the hankering for happiness and longing for peace against the fight for your own life and to what's left of your innocence. do you really feel happy at how much they were letting you experience all this? would you really feel free when they'd get over you? is your life still worth fighting for? is your innocence really of value?

you never stopped crying, you never do. the overwhelming feeling of helplessness, your hope fading at each second that pasts, every crystal diamond your eyes go let go aren't going to change everything. childe and scaramouche were so adamant in keeping you to themselves, they would never let you go.

as you reached another peak of your orgasm, childe finally lets you go with an audible pop while scaramouche lets you breathe after drowning you with his kisses. your lungs throbbed from the lack of oxygen but once again, the two had placed you right where they want to—scaramouche had turned you around to face him as he lies down in bed, bits of his clothes were thrown out of the room while childe removes his on your back.

your shaky legs were placed on the sides of scaramouche's thighs, his hands tight to adjust your trembling body right on top of his cock. as you pant in, you felt the tip of his cock brushes on your abused clit, your body arching down with your head resting on the crook of his neck.

"we're gonna fuck you," he whispers before he pushes you down to take him all in one go. "drill into your mind that you're nothing but our little cockwhore," he finished before you screamed, in pain, feeling how it burned between your legs. he was big, filling your tight hole with his girth.

you were stretched beyond what you can handle, mewling as he didn't give you any time to adjust around him. he was cruel, cold, merciless but beautiful, remembering how his kisses sent tremors to your heart. conflicted once more, you craned your head up to look at him. with glossy eyes, it was hard to see what expression ever adorns his pretty face.

scaramouche felt your tears falling down to his cheeks his heart swells in pride and satisfaction. "you'd like that, won't you?" it was then the excruciating pain had subsided and with every time his hands press you down to meet his thrusts, you have moaned out his name but too dazed to even notice of doing that.

"hm? that's not what i wanted to hear f/n." and then you felt a strong slap on your ass, emitting a loud squall from your already strained voice. "say it, say how much you want to be our cockwhore." and you felt another, and another, and another. childe beams behind to see your skin are now dusted in a dark undertone as your blood rushes through each vein that

"yes! please... w-wanna be your cockwhore... just -fuck me, please." fear for your life laced in the desperation to soothe the pain felt inside your core, your voice felt so far as if you don't even hear yourself anymore but for all its worth, if its to save your life in addition to mend the ache on both your heart and of your sex—you hated yourself, you hated how you slowly agree to this.

but it's not like you have any choice, right?

wrong, you have but they've already swallowed what's left of the flame of your will to push back.

not with how scaramouche had your toes curling at how he hit spots inside of your sex that just felt too good, adding more pressure when the tip sends jolts of the same electrifying shock he did on your breasts. and it didn't end when he kept your hole so full of him when he had his mouth busy biting and sucking on your nipples, causing you to throw your head back in a scream. but all your cries of pleasure were quickly muffled by childe who kisses you when he settles himself on your back.

how could you deny all this when childe uses his pre-cum to stain the other puckering hole near your cunt, smiling when it gapes as you accept every rough and deep stroke of scaramouche's hips to meet your writhing body. not when his arousal was enough to lube himself up and to slowly slips himself in, his kisses still gushing you down as another stretch of your body down below was too much, too painful but oh so good.

helpless against the toll of pain that bore fruit to pleasure, you keep on screaming out their names, hands grasping on the sheets as if it's your lifeline, to bound you down as your head spins from how much bliss had rained all over you. the feeling had washed away your fears.

as you are sandwiched between scaramouche and childe, feeling both their cocks simultaneously going in and out of you in a very addicting rhythm, you felt the rope in your core snap. your walls had fluttered, clasping and releasing its hold on both their cocks that had them groan in the feeling.

"so fucking good, taking both of us at the same time." childe grunts in your ear, voice strained when your walls felt so warm, so soft and snug around him. "you're gonna make me cum."

"please, please cum in me?"

"a very eager whore," childe says before laughing. "so keen to please us now. that's good." and you felt how childe snaps back up to your hole, earning a scream from you. "a good whore like you deserves my cum." his pace increases in speed, holding your hips as he drills himself in and out of you.

scaramouche grunts when he can feel childe's girthy length brushes against his inside of you, hating how this ginger reaps more and more of your noises. he felt how your body press down on him, halting his movements. but he's not one to back out.

"you want our cum?" scaramouche asks, placing both his hand on your cheeks, having you focus on him below as he lets childe rut himself away to his orgasm. and when the ginger does, you felt how he twitched inside of your ass, flooding your insides with his warm load. the warmth of childe behind you overflows out to your thighs as he thrust himself back in but hesitated in taking his greedy hands to keep you to himself because of the glare he got from the man below.

"i do, so good." you hummed, accepting every drop of childe's cum while you look at scaramouche.

"you want to be fucked full?" he asked, elevating your body with the little space available before he pummels himself as deep as he could, hitting the walls to your womb. the contact was more powerful than how he was roughly jerking himself to your tight cunt before childe came from behind. it's more aggressive, possessive, your whole body bouncing to meet every thrust, forcing himself deeper when he pushes your legs wider.

"i'm gonna fuck you with my cum, got that?" you nodded, mind too dazed to even say anything in response to how his girth feels just right inside of you. "gonna fill you up—," he groaned out the words, fixing you in place for your hole to fuck himself on. "—stain your insides with my cum—" your walls gushes out more of your slick, reeling in the words said, craving the satisfying feeling of being full. "—that you'd always want it."

"yes! yes! fill me up!" as tears brimmed in your eyes, you smiled down at scaramouche, the dreamy smile he knew too well and had always wanted to see from your pretty face.

"do you really want this?" you feverishly nodded, eyes closed when you felt the heat inside of you soared into burning flames throughout your body. "do you want to cum?" again, you nodded, sobbing when he didn't stop, when childe finally matches scaramouche's speed and strength in ramming in your hole.

"fuck," the 6th fatui harbinger muttered under his breath, biting down his lips when your soft walls spasmed around him. "ah, fuckfuckfuck." childe utters before he bites down to your neck and it's when both men released all their loads inside, god, you can feel how they shoot their warm and thick load. it's mind-breaking, you love it, feeling so full and hot all over.

both their cocks do these little shakes inside of you, seconds were spent in filling you like how they want to. you were so full, brimming, seeping so much with their cum. addicting, truly addicting, you wanted more.

when the two finally managed to steady their breathing, they both looked at you and saw how your eyes still glowed in salacious intent, half-lidded but the e/c hues are dilated to shows a deep pool of color.

"more?" a simple question. "i want more." a simple sentence but held so much meaning for both fatuis.

"good."

months, it's been months since you were held captive by both fatui harbingers and were brought to their own lands. it was cold, the bluish glow of the area had you remembering childe's matching orbs while the icy breeze your skin would felt reminds you of scaramouche's glare and attitude. but it felt too normal for you now, mending the emptiness you felt.

a collar was placed on your neck, your fingers can feel the metal adorning the leash with letters of the names you always call in the morning and scream at night. you waited, patiently, as they told you. the longest nights will be over, the loneliest mornings will soon be full of their presence around you.

you looked out of the window, hands gently trace shapes you make out from the frost on the clear glass walls. the ice that blows and goes in the scenery felt like a distant memory of the prison you thought to be a part of, the life before and now after you met them.

the house that they left you to reside in was far from the village, mirroring what life you used to have. disconnected, outcasted, away from anyone but them. if you used to be held in chains by a life full of terror and complete unease as each breath was a lifeline then now, you're in these invisible chains because of the choice done by your flesh... dependency clouding the desire for freedom, succumbing to pleasure as it erases what's left of you who are.

a bitter chuckle had escaped your lips.

corrupted, long gone is the f/n l/n they all knew, well, no one ever knew about who you are. you've hidden away from people so there's no doubt anyone would remember you. but there are the two fatuis who always go back home, who always go back to you.

you looked down at yourself, observing the subtle changes in your body. you were well-fed, given your own space, nothing changed to whatever living conditions you used to have besides having to keep up with their stamina. your body's still the same but what caught your eye are the names between your thighs, the word "property" teasing your curiosity to look at the name it's connected to.

maybe, you did change.

the sins passed down by blood, the lustful stupor you let them feel, the carnal desires you three keep craving for—it made sense as to why they keep you here. somehow, you felt some control over them.

"no, that's not true."

you thought that maybe, just maybe, there will be a day where you can go back to what life you had... will you take the chance? but as the door opens, your ears picking up the sweet tone of his voice calling you out, your body automatically standing up to meet whoever had come back, smiling as if you're madly in love...

there's your answer.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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prttykittes · 5 months

Note

Just daddy!chuuya fucking his sleepy lolita daughter<3 he was so lonely and horny so he went on dirty sites and found a video of a father fucking his daughter and it almost made chuuya combust! He was even more horny and couldn’t help it when he came in his daughters room and fucked her while she was sleeping! He was so rough it woke her up tho but since chuuyas such a good daddy he gave her kisses while fucking her rough and ever since from that incident he started to be creepy with his daughter<3

:0 I can't tell if this is a Request or You just want to write something (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠) — This is good!! lolita!Reader, I love Lolita clothes so mucch!! I love this so much, creepy!dad Chuuya...

——— TW:Noncon, Incest, unprotected sex, rough sex, kisses, creampie (I write it down there |

You hear noises, it sounds like grunting and moaning..? Is there something wrong with your daddy? You try to move but you can't and you let out a loud moan, you feel something moving inside of you. Something big and thick... You head hurts the headboard sometimes, your mouth is open. You try to call out for your dad but let out moans instead. Your head is pushed in the pillows, your head is turn to the side and you can see your lolita clothing from here. The person holding you down, let's you go. You turn your head and see you daddy?! You let out a loud gasp as you feel the big thing hitting deep inside of you, you can feel his breath on your neck. You can feel his lips on your neck as he kisses you, he still continues to move inside you. Your stomach curls as you can feel yourself clenching and twitching around his big dick, your toes curl as moan loudly. You can feel his dick twitching as well then you can feel something filling you up, he pulls out and he can see his seed filled to the brim inside of you. He smiles and kisses your forehead, cheek and your lips. "I love you so much, baby" he says, you kiss him back and close your eyes.

#anonymous kitten writing incest chuuya smut :0 #tw.incest #cw.incest #chuuya incest #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #kittypussy #kittyorgans #tw.noncon #cw.noncon #chuuya x reader smut #afab reader smut

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rindearest · 1 year

Text

— SUNFALL

pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader

tags: NONCON, stalking, obsessive behavior, creampie, master kink, male masturbation, dacryphilia, alcohol use, cunnilingus, aged up characters, reader is a maid cafe worker + smokes

wc: 6.5k

a/n: hii i basically just heard that maid cafe/outing in akiba drama cd and ran a marathon with it ٩( ᐛ )و you don’t really need to listen to it, it’s just mentioned in passing in the beginning.

summary: megumi wants to find relief from the cold, unforgiving world of jujutsu sorcery. he finds warmth in your hands.

➳ crossposted on AO3

There is nothing glamorous about being a jujutsu sorcerer. It’s a thankless job. The people you put your life on the line for aren’t aware that they’re in any particular danger, and it’s common to see your colleagues die young, their dreams and ambitions dying alongside them. With that in mind, it’s no surprise Megumi yearned for some semblance of warmth that could relieve his stress and burdens. So he found himself at the maid cafe he went to with Itadori, back when they were still students. He usually wouldn’t be caught dead at an establishment like this, but it was one of the only places from his academy days that weren’t tainted with wretched memories of dying civilians and near death experiences.

The bells on the entrance of the cafe jingle as he steps in, alerting the workers of his presence. It’s gaudy, to say the least. Bright walls and pastel checkerboard floors line the interior. There’s a couple of cork boards by the entrance, showing the lineup of girls as well as some polaroid pictures of them with customers. The seats and tables alternate between pink and white, and Megumi can’t help but consider turning on his heels and running out the door. Before he can even turn to face the door, you step towards him, with a cheerful smile painted on your face.

“Welcome master! Table for one?” Megumi is taken aback by the sight of you. The black socks that squeeze the plush of your thigh, the cat ears that adorn your head, the fluffy skirt that seems to bounce with every step you take; it is all too much for him. The ‘master’ pet name doesn’t help either. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been referred to as such. It’s been thrown around here and there during his rare visits to the Zenin Estate when he was a child. There was something different; the timbre of your voice, the excitement in your tone. Remnants of your voice echo in his head as he tries to compose himself.

“Yes.” Megumi’s eyes shift to the side, unable to maintain eye contact.

“Alright, follow me master!” You lead him to an empty table by a window, and place a menu down. Megumi sits down, perplexed at all the options presented in front of him.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“The omurice is super yummy! It even comes with a super special surprise.” You wink at him, pointing your pen to your face.

“Then can I get that?”

“Of course, master! One omurice coming right up!” With a dramatic rip of the order slip, you deliver the ticket to the kitchen, skirt flouncing about with each step you take. As you disappear into the back, Megumi relaxes his shoulders, unaware of how tense he was in the first place.

As you pop back out from the kitchen, he’s taken by surprise as you skip to sit in the seat in front of him.

“Is this part of the service?” He asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“No, but it’s not like we’re busy or anything!” You gesture to the empty tables in the rest of the cafe, and your other coworker who’s lounging on their phone in a corner. “Unless, you’d rather be alone?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“No, this is fine.” He responds coolly, despite his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. When was the last time he held a conversation with anyone outside of Jujutsu society, much less with someone as cute as you?

“So, what brings you in?” You ask, placing an elbow on the table and resting your face on your hand. It catches him off guard, just how close you are to him. The table couldn’t have been longer than 2 feet, but it was more than enough to bask in your beauty.

“I was in the area and just thought it’d be fun. I came here with a friend a while ago.”

“Oh really? Was I your server?” You bat your lashes as you bring your hands to your face, cupping your cheeks. Heat rushes to his face as he looks at you before briefly shifting his eyes to the side.

“I don’t think so. It was a few years back.” As far as he remembers, the last time he was here, he was focused on keeping Yuuji in line and keeping an eye on Gojo. Checking out the maids of the cafe was the least of his worries, though in retrospect, he might be feeling a twinge of regret for not paying closer attention.

“Aw, that’s a shame. I think I’d remember if I saw someone like you around.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Megumi raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, unsure of what you’re trying to get at.

“Just that you look a bit different from the usual kinda guy that comes in.” You respond, leaning your face onto your hand. “But enough about that. You liked us enough to come back?”

“Not necessarily. I don’t really know the area that well.” He runs his fingers against the back of his hand, not knowing how to explain that he was feeling nostalgic for a place he’s only ever visited once in his life.

“Well, what are you into?”

His head perks up to look at you, perplexed that you’re attempting to strike up a conversation with him. It’s not a common occurrence for a waitress to talk to him beyond taking his order and dropping off his meal.

“I like reading.” He answers matter-of-factly.

“So like, manga?”

“No, non-fiction.”

“Not sure if this is the best place for that. If you give me a bit I could probably come up with a list of nice bookstores.” You grab the pen from your apron pocket and spin it in your hands before pointing it at him.

“It’s alright if you can’t think of anything. I can’t find the time to read these days anyways.” He’s touched by the idea but doesn’t want to place a burden on you.

The ring of a call bell from the kitchen marks the end of the conversation short, as you perk up to go pick up his order.

With your return, your tone shifts to a higher register as you place the plate on the table and announce, “Alright master, one omurice for you! What’s your name?”

“Megumi.” You take the ketchup bottle and carefully squeeze out his name onto the omelette, adding a smiley face at the end.

“Alright master Megumi, we have to do this together. It’ll make the meal complete!” Master Megumi. He likes the ring of that.

“What are you talking about?” He asks in earnest.

“We have to give the omurice a super love beam!” You puff your chest out with your hands on your hips, as if that’s the most obvious answer on the planet.

“I’m not sure I understand wh-”

“Come on, it’s really easy!” You place your hands around his, molding his fingers to form a heart. Your hands are soft and warm against his rough calloused fingertips. A soft blush forms on his face as you play around with his hands. When was the last time he’s held anyone’s hands? Are they always this warm? This welcoming? He never knew someone’s touch, especially that of a stranger’s, could make his heart race.

You finally get his hands in the right shape, before pointing it at the meal. “Say it with me, suuuper love beam!”

“Su-super… love beam…” He mutters, looking away from the meal. He can’t bring himself to say it without feeling embarrassed at how absurd it seems. You let go of his hands, but the warmth still lingers. Megumi finds himself holding his hands where yours were; longing for the sensation to stay.

“Now, it’s ready to eat! Oh wait, I almost forgot something.” You briskly walk to the back counter, skirt bouncing with every step, before returning with a polaroid camera.

“It’s your first time back in a while, right? We have to celebrate with a picture!” You kneel down next to him before pointing the camera at the two of you, but you can’t seem to get both of your faces to fit in the tiny viewfinder.

“Hmm, you won’t be in the frame this way.” You lean in closer towards Megumi, your chest pressing against his arm, face only centimeters away from his. If Megumi wasn’t flustered before, he definitely is now. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe and the heat radiating off of your body. His breathing stills, as if the tiniest movement will push you away. Time halts for a second, even if that’s not the reality he’s faced with. He wishes this moment could last forever.

“Alright, say cheese!” You throw up a peace sign and smile at the camera. With a press of a button, a bright flash illuminates the room and fills your eyes. The flash catches Megumi by surprise, causing him to blink and rub his eyes to alleviate himself of the stars clouding his vision. A dull buzzing noise emits from the camera, as it slowly prints out the photo.

“Here you go! Enjoy your meal!” You hand him the polaroid and wave before going back to work.

He holds the image in his hand, shifting it back and forth in the light, waiting for it to develop fully. The black starts to fade, revealing your radiant smile, in contrast to Megumi’s awkward expression as a result of him blinking. In that moment, Megumi realizes something as he stares at the polaroid of the two of you: your smile shines like the sun, and he wants to go blind.

---

The plan to find something to get his mind off work may have worked a bit too well, as Megumi finds himself in a pocket of the bustling city again, standing in front of the maid cafe entrance.

“Welcome, master! Oh, back so soon?” You ask with a smile.

“Yeah… I am.” He says with a hint of hesitation in his voice, as if he doesn’t quite believe it either. You show him to a table, a different one than last time.

“Can I get the omurice?”

“Coming right up!”

“By the way, here’s that list of bookstores. You left before I could give it to you.” You hand him the list, and he bows his head slightly in thanks and acknowledgement.

The list is written on the back of an order ticket, slightly crumpled, probably from being in your apron for the past couple of days. Blue pen is scribbled along the off-white paper, listing addresses of various bookstores; some located nearby, others located elsewhere.

“You really didn’t have to…” He looks away from you and scratches his neck, trying to collect his words. “But thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was fun to make!”

The conversation is interrupted by a call of your name from a back room.

“Hey, could you help out back here if you’re not too busy?” Your coworker peeks out and gestures for you to follow them.

“Sure!” You turn to look back at Megumi. “I’ll be back in a bit.” You leave with a simple smile and a wave, before disappearing to the back.

As much as he’s disappointed that he can’t spend more time talking to you, he’s grateful that he knows your name now. Something so simple yet it hadn’t occurred to him until he heard it. He tucks it into the depths of his chest, locking it away as a secret for him to keep.

He takes a harder look at the list of bookstores you gave him. It’s more detailed than he expected, as you took the time to write out a rating and other interesting notes for each store. He traces the ink with his thumb, imagining you hard at work writing this for him. It brings a tender smile to his face and butterflies to his stomach. Maybe he’d be able to return the favor someday.

He jumps in his seat at the ring of a bell from the kitchen. You come out soon after, heels clacking against the tiled floor as you approach him.

“Alright, one omurice just for you master!” You place the plate on the table and start shaking a bottle of ketchup. “Your name was... Megumi, right?”

His head perks at the mention of his name, delighted to hear it coming from you again.

“Yeah.” You carefully squeeze out his name onto the omelette. To change it up a bit, you draw cat ears above his name, reminiscent of the accessories that decorate your head. He finds it endearing, seeing your eyebrows furrow, the slight bite of your lip as you concentrate on drawing, your hands delicately wrapped around the bottle and fingers pressing into the pliable plastic.

“Alright, we gotta hit it with the super love beam! You know how to do it, right?” He does, but doing it right means that he won’t be able to feel your hands against his. Besides, doing it of his own volition filled him with a deep sense of embarrassment, and although nobody he knew would be all the wiser, he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. Megumi puts his hands up into an awkward shape, resembling an oval more than a heart.

“Like this?” He presents his hands to you, with a raised eyebrow.

“No, silly, more like a heart! It’s a super love beam.” He fumbles with his hands a bit more, but the shape that unfolds looks more like an 8 than a heart.

“Here, let me help.” You place your hands on his, gingerly putting each finger in their proper place. You bend his thumbs backwards slightly to form the right curve before pushing them together. His hands are rougher than you expected; all calloused palms and hardened fingers. They’ve seen enough woes to last a lifetime or two.

“There! Alright, say it with me. Suuuper love beam!”

“Su-super love beam…” Megumi still can’t bring himself to say the phrase out loud.

“Alright it’s ready to go! Enjoy your meal!”

Megumi’s hands ball into tight fists, contemplating whether he should ask you for another photo but you’re gone before he can muster the courage. He hesitantly digs his spoon into the fluffy pillow of eggs on his plate, as he watches you walk away. He blankly stares at the dome of egg blanketing grains of rice before taking a bite. The metal spoon scrapes against his teeth as he takes a bite, chewing for what seems like an eternity before swallowing.

It doesn’t taste as good as last time.

---

It’s the only picture of you he has. He was hoping during his last visit to the cafe, he could get a proper picture where he looks presentable, but he couldn’t find it in himself to ask. Maybe it was embarrassment, maybe it was a useless sense of pride, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s sitting at his desk holding one polaroid instead of two.

His thumb gently traces along the curve of your face, the glossy finish of the film sticking to his finger.

Oh, how he wishes he could feel more of you. He wonders how soft your cheeks would feel if he were able to caress them, if they would be as comforting as your hands. His mind starts to race with questions, each more obscene than the last. How would you react when his thumb wanders from your cheek to the pout of your lips? What kind of choked moan would escape your lips as he hooks his thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue? How warm would your mouth feel as it wraps around his cock?

He shouldn’t be doing this; he swears he’s better than this. But any concern of pride or saving face is quickly melting away as his hand wanders down to his boxers. He palms himself through the fabric until the muted sensation just isn’t enough. He reaches over to the bottle of lotion on his desk, pumping twice before stroking himself, desperately wishing it was your hand instead of his.

He lets out a groan as he leans his head back and closes his eyes. Pictures of you fly across his mind as his breaths get heavier. Impatient hands desperately undressing you, finally being able to see you at your most vulnerable. Maybe you’d be a bit bashful as he grabs your waist, his hands gently traveling to the curve of your hips. Maybe you’d squirm under his touch as he traces your inner thigh, teasing you before getting any closer.

What kind of lewd sounds would leave your mouth as his fingers slide up and down your folds? How would your face contort in pleasure as his cock splits you open?

He thinks about you chanting his name, no, Master Megumi, in between choked moans and whimpers as he fucks his fist. His pace quickens as he loses himself in his fantasy, panting your name under his breath. With a final pump, his cock starts to twitch, hot spurts of his seed painting the polaroid in white, the excess dripping onto the floor.

As he comes down from his high, shame washes over him, but it’s short-lived. A burning desire arises in its place: to have you all for himself.

---

He’s heard the tale of Icarus before, the man who flew too close to the sun. He never paid it much mind, especially since it came out of Gojo’s mouth during one of his long-winded lectures in his middle school delinquent days. The strongest sorcerer lecturing him about reckless pursuits and self-constraint? How rich.

And though he disregarded it before, it weighs heavy on his mind as he stands in front of the cafe entrance for the third time this week, chasing the high that is the warmth of your hands enveloping his.

He throws on that aloof expression as always, walking into the familiar jingle of the cafe’s bells. The atmosphere of the restaurant is completely different from his past two visits, bustling with customers and workers rushing from table to table.

“Welcome master! Table for one?” He doesn’t recognize the worker in front of him, his eyes wandering off to a corner where you’re helping another customer.

He supposes that this was a possibility, but he doesn’t want to accept it. Your hands are all over theirs, demonstrating the super love beam. Your smile is as radiant as ever, and envy begins to simmer in his body because he isn’t at the receiving end of it. The rational side of him says that this was to be expected; it is your job after all. But another side of him can’t help but be disgusted.

“Um, sir? Is everything okay?” The waitress waves a hand in front of Megumi’s face to get his attention, causing him to blink a few times before responding to their question.

“Oh, sorry. I’m okay, I’ll be back later.” Megumi shows himself out the door, the bells ringing as it closes. He stands still for a moment, staring again at the entrance before letting out a heavy sigh.

His hands feel a bit colder today.

---

While Megumi hasn’t returned to the cafe in quite some time as a customer, he’s developed a bad habit in its stead. Well, he tells himself it isn’t a bad habit; he’s just making sure you get back home safe from work.

It’s a fairly quick commute; a walk to the station, staying on for a few stops, before getting off to walk for fifteen minutes. But anything could happen within that time. If anyone tried to hurt you and he wasn’t able to protect you, he would never be able to forgive himself.

So he’s started to enjoy this peaceful little routine, lurking in the shadows and following you home, unbeknownst to you. Though he misses the banter and the warmth of your hands he tells himself this is ok for now. If anything, there was a special sense of intimacy in seeing you wearing something other than the ornate maid dress that seemed to swallow you whole.

Today was… different. You left the cafe in a rush, heading in a different direction than usual. Megumi follows close behind in your shadow, as you make your way to an unfamiliar part of town. It’s quiet; away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

You make your way into a bar, and a seedy one at that. Overhead lamps hang from the ceiling, painting the room in a murky yellow. The floor is littered in scratches and nicks, the wallpaper worn down and stained with patches of brown of varying intensities. It’s fairly empty for an evening, save for a few patrons scattered along the worn down leather booths and tables.

You sit down at the counter, your body plopping as you sit down on the bar stool. The wooden counter has deteriorated from years of wear and tear, scuffs and water stains well settled into the surface.

“Would you like something to drink?” the bartender asks.

“Not right now. Waiting for someone.” you answer.

Something cracks in Megumi upon hearing your response. What kind of person were you meeting in such a run down place like this?

You wait and wait. Megumi does as well, with bated breath. Fifteen, thirty, forty-five minutes pass by with no appearance of this mystery person. You finally unlock your phone, finding something to cure your boredom.

His eyes glance over, your eyes glued to the screen as you scroll.

The world stops for a second.

A dating app.

He should have known it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but it doesn’t matter.

You open up your inbox, typing with an annoyed expression, and Megumi’s chest tightens with each tap on your keyboard.

if you’re gonna stand me up at least choose somewhere nice lol

You both sigh for different reasons.

Though he can’t help but think, what kind of asshole would stand you up of all people? Even with his limited interactions with you, he can see your kindness shine bright through your smile. Your hands, soft and inviting, are warm and comforting to the touch. His heart skips a beat at just the thought of you touching him again. Whatever, it just keeps things easier for him.

“Give me something strong please.” You ask the bartender, tapping your fingers against the counter. The bartender silently nods, pouring a concoction of various liquids into his mixer before shaking vigorously. He gingerly pours the drink into a glass with ice before sliding it your way.

The drink burns on the way down, but you don’t care. You take large sips, only taking breaks in between to let out a heavy sigh.

“Another one please.”

Megumi should stop you. He knows he should stop you. But he’s too distracted, enamored even, by watching you drink. The way your lips pout to reach the straw, the way each gulp slides down your neck, the way you suck to make sure you’ve cleared the glass of every drop of liquor.

The evening continues uneventfully, and at some point you’ve lost count of how many glasses you’ve had, and decide that’s a good marker to start making your way home. You’re stumbling a little bit, but you’re confident in your ability to get back, though that doesn’t really matter.

Megumi will be right by your side, whether you know it or not.

---

Even with your hellish shift at work, you’ve somehow gotten through another day. The sun sets on the horizon, painting the sky and cityscape in a mix of hazy orange and soft pink hues. Even in your drunken stupor, you can appreciate the beauty of the skyline, maybe even more so as your vision blurs all the colors for you, like watercolor paints blending into one another on paper. Whether it’s the last of the sun’s rays washing over you or the alcohol in your system warming your cheeks, you don’t care. The warmth is comforting in contrast to the chilly breeze of the city.

You’ve come to admire this view on the rooftop of your apartment complex, arms leaning against the metal railing as you take it in. While living in a cramped unit you can barely afford has its burdens, this has been one reassuring constant; your temporary place of respite from the chaos of the world around you. You take out the box of cigarettes from your pocket, cellophane packaging crinkling as you unwrap it. Flipping the top open, you place a cigarette in your mouth, the faint smell of tobacco wafting through your nostrils. You reach for your lighter, spinning the wheel once, twice, three times until the flame comes to life, before bringing it to your face.

“You have a lighter?” The voice takes you by surprise, causing you to jump. You raise an eyebrow as you take a skeptical glance at the hooded man next to you. Something about him looks and sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

“Do I… Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, tilting your head as you try to get a look at his face.

“I moved here recently.” he responds, slightly shifting his face away from you and adjusting his hood.

“Well, nice to meet ya, neighbor.” You hand him your lighter before looking back at the sunset and exhaling a puff of smoke.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, ’m fine. Just had a shitty day.” you respond, pinching your forehead.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“What’re you sorry for? Not like it’s your fault I had a shit day.” you scoff, before inhaling another puff of smoke.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“It’s--” you let out a sigh before debating on whether or not you should go on a drunken rant in front of a stranger. Instead, you let out a guttural groan, planting your forehead against the railing, trying to find some form of catharsis. The metal is cool against your nearly feverish skin, as you slightly raise your head to bring up the cigarette to your mouth and take another hit.

“Are you drunk?”

“Probably.” The answer was definitely yes, extremely. It was obvious with your gestures, the ways your words slurred, the stringent scent of alcohol leaving your lips with each sentence. It was a miracle you even found your way home, or up to the rooftop for that matter.

“Do you need someone to walk you back to your apartment?”

“’m fine.” You attempt to shoo him away as you take a step forward, only to stumble over your own feet.

“Seriously, I’ll take you back.” His offer sounds enticing, especially considering how intoxicated you are. There’s no way you’d be able to walk down three flights of stairs to your apartment without falling or hurting yourself. So you collapse into his arms, accepting his proposal.

“Thanks. ’m three floors down.”

---

The trip down three flights of stairs wasn’t ideal, but manageable. Megumi had your arms slung around his shoulder as he attempted to keep you balanced during the descent. You messily shift through your keyring once you get to your door, metal clinking against each other until you find the key to your apartment.

The hallway is cramped, a small kitchenette built into one of the walls. The coat rack is nearly collapsing in on itself with the amount of clothing you’ve thrown on to it, some of the garments already forming a wrinkled puddle of fabric on the floor. With a few steps he’s already in the main room, where your bed and desk are crammed together.

He places you gently onto the bed as you shift around and sprawl yourself against the sheets.

“Thank you.” you mumble into the mattress.

“No worries.” he takes a step away from the bed, but his eyes are glued to your body. He knows he should be leaving but he can’t bring himself to look away.

If seeing you outside of work was intimate in and of itself, he didn’t know how to describe this sight. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your cheeks squish against your pillow and cause your lips to pout slightly. He wishes he could see this side of you more often.

He’s not sure what comes over him. Maybe it’s the lingering sensation of your warmth from helping you down three flights of stairs. Maybe it’s a selfish desire to prove that he can make everything better. You don’t need anyone else: not those customers who are undeserving of your touch, and definitely not the pathetic loser who stood you up.

And like Icarus who flew too close to the sun, his hand stretches out to reach for your waist, greedy, desperate for your warmth.

His hands feel like they’re burning as they gently lift the hem of your shirt. Nimble fingers softly graze against your supple skin, as blood rushes through his body from the contact. He works to unbuckle your pants before peeling the fabric off from your body.

“Hmm?” You shift around trying to make yourself comfortable only to realize your pants have been stripped off of you, and that hooded stranger from earlier is staring you down like a deer in headlights.

Panic starts to course through your veins as you start to thrash your body around, but your coordination is less than ideal with all the alcohol flowing through your system, and he’s able to easily overpower you, pinning down your legs.

He slides your underwear to the side and pushes your legs apart, salivating at the sight of your cunt. He wastes no time, swiping his tongue against your folds. The sensation is foreign and takes you by surprise as you instinctively push your legs close. He seems unphased by this, wrapping his arms around your legs as he desperately sucks on your clit. Tasting you is better than anything he could have imagined. His hips roll into the mattress in languid strokes, mimicking how he wants to fuck you.

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction that you’re enjoying this, but the tension building in your stomach is undeniable. It becomes harder and harder to choke back your moans, soft pants occasionally escaping your lips. Hearing even the smallest sliver of your voice sends him into a frenzy, with him pulling you in closer and messily lapping at your cunt while a mix of your arousal and his spit pools onto the sheets.

He adjusts his position, bringing his fingers to your clit before drawing tight circles. His tongue licks at your folds before going lower, prodding at your hole before going in all the way. He flicks up at your walls, saliva mixing with your juices before slipping a finger in. His tongue pulls out to messily lave at your clit while fingering you. He adds another finger in, curling them as he finds a steady rhythm. His fingers are longer, thicker, reaching places you wouldn’t be able to on your own.

“You have such a pretty cunt.” He purrs into you, before going back in. His breath is warm against your folds, seeping out and brushing against your inner thighs.

He’s unrelenting as he hooks his hand over your leg to pull you closer. Your breaths get shallower as the pressure in your core builds. His fingers move faster, slick wet noises echoing through the room as they thrust inside you.

“T-too much!” You squeal, grabbing onto his head to push him away. It only has the opposite effect on him, as he shoves harder into you, his face buried in your cunt. His tongue swirls around your clit, bringing the tension in your core to a head. Your moans fill the otherwise quiet room as you wrap your hands around his hair, needing something to grip as you come undone. Your climax seems to have no effect on him, as he plays with your clit and guides you through it.

He’s out of breath by the time he pulls away from your legs, face covered in your juices. He casually wipes it off with the back of his hand before licking it off. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, clit throbbing from overstimulation; your body is spent. There’s no way you can take any more.

On the other hand, this was just the beginning for him, and he’d rather not ignore the growing length in his pants. He could cum from the taste of you alone, but he’d much rather feel your cunt squeeze him for all his worth.

He needs more.

The sound of a belt buckle jangling and fabric shifting brings you back to reality, as you look down to see him removing his pants, revealing his fully erect cock.

“Don’t worry,” he pants out, before lining himself up with your entrance, “I’ll make you feel even better.”

He breathes in shakily before entering you slowly, feeling your warmth surround him. He savors the moment before bottoming out, biting down on his lip and letting out a hushed moan. His head leans back as he starts moving, hands shaking as he takes in the view of his cock splitting you open. Just the sight is enough to send him over, but he can’t lose focus; not now when he finally has you all to himself.

“F-fuck, you feel amazing.”

He rushes to take your top off, pulling the fabric over your head before reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. He shoves it into the pocket of his jacket, planning to keep it as a memento. He’ll have fun with it later.

His hands find yours, delicately intertwining your fingers together. Your hands are just as warm as he remembers, maybe even warmer than before.

He can’t stop himself from kissing you. It starts gentle as he acquaints himself with the shape of your lips. The lips he imagined wrapped around his cock, the lips he’s only been able to see from a distance for so long. He takes his time exploring them, trying to see what makes you tick. He tastes the faintest hint of alcohol on your lips, but he’d rather you remember the taste of him instead. What starts gentle becomes overwhelming, rougher. His hands wrap around yours tighter and it feels like he’ll swallow you whole (maybe that’s what he wants).

His hips start striking into yours faster, his lips quivering as he tries to control himself. It’s taking every bit of self-restraint to keep himself from pounding you harder.

Fucking his fist to the polaroid of you came nowhere close to the real deal. Your soft moans are much cuter than anything he could have imagined. The way your cunt swallows him whole, the bounce of your breasts with each thrust, it’s all a work of fine art to him. And though this was the moment he’s been dreaming of for so long, something was missing.

“Megumi.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Master Megumi.”

Everything comes crashing down. Your alcohol-induced haze shatters, as you finally remember where you’ve seen him from. You attempt to shuffle your legs closed, panicking as you try to free your hands from his iron grip. Megumi swiftly pins your hands above your head, adjusting so that he can hold them down with one hand.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, p-please just once-“ he begs as he continues fucking into you.

Tears start to pool in your eyes at the realization, burning as they run down your cheeks.

He feels sick at the sight of your tears. It’s a mix of things; guilt that he’s the cause of them, but also the desire to see more. There’s a certain satisfaction in being able to see something so intimate, something you don’t just show off to any old patron at the cafe. Something for his eyes only.

If your smile is the sun, then your tears are the ocean and he wants to drown.

Megumi grabs your thigh with his free hand and starts to fuck into you harder, as you hiccup and cry with each stroke. You’re barely able to stifle your cries back as he gets rougher, holding your hands so tight it feels like they’re going to burst. He bites on your neck, a bit too hard, but he’s overwhelmed with the urge, the need to leave proof that this happened, that he was here with you.

“Please, just once.” He moans into the nape of your neck.

“M-Master Megumi.” You whisper through gritted teeth and muffled sobs.

The pressure in your stomach starts to build as Megumi desperately hits the spot that has you seeing stars. You can barely bite back your moans as you squeeze his hand in an effort to ground yourself. He mistakes it as reciprocation.

“I knew you’d come around.” His lips form a soft smile before he loosens the grip on your hands slightly. It’s just enough space to separate your fingers but nothing beyond that. The hand on your thigh moves closer to the space between your legs to start playing with your clit again, languid slow strokes that have you desperate for relief.

“Say it again.”

You close your eyes tightly in response, not wanting to give in to his demands. The grip around your hand tightens again, pain building from the pressure.

“M-Master Megumi.” You blurt under your breath, doing your best to muffle your cries. His fingers around your clit start to move a bit faster, along with his strokes.

“Louder.”

“Master Megumi.”

He brings his face closer to yours, his eyes only a finger’s width away from yours.

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

You attempt to look away from his face that’s dangerously close to yours. You wince as his fingernails start digging into the skin of your hands, the sharp pain demanding an answer to his question.

“You are, Master Megumi.” You respond, more tears falling from your eyes.

The last thing you want to do is give in to the pleasure growing in your core, but the way his hands play with your clit and his cock bullies you into submission, you can’t help yourself. Your breaths get faster, your heart beating so hard you can feel it in your head. Your grip tightens around his hands as you grit your teeth and come undone on his cock, a mix of garbled moans and hushed whimpers echoing in the room.

Just the sensation of your walls clenching around him and cute moans are enough to send him over. He pushes one last thrust into you, cock twitching as he paints your insides with ropes of white. He takes a moment to catch his breath before taking himself out of you, admiring the way his seed drips from your hole.

Flying too close to the sun and drowning in the ocean may have been a terrible fate for Icarus. But after seeing the glassy tears on your face, your form glistening with sweat, and the taste of you lingering on his tongue, he’d argue otherwise.

#megumi fushiguro x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #megumi fushiguro smut #cw.noncon #cw.stalking #this was in my docs for so long it is EMBARASSING #sen writes #sen fics #s.jjk

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