#i just want to witness them in the flesh is that too much to ask? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hispg · 3 months

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Little bunny

Pairings: R4! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: You riled him up. It's totally your fault for using this bunny outfit. Now, bear the consequences.

Wc: 2.5k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, mirror sex, soft!Dom Leon, pet names, light dirty talk.

An: Hi Hi, sorry for the recent absence, I haven't replied to any asks or comments. And sorry for the absence, don't get me wrong.I have to sort out some things in my personal life, and frankly my mental state isn't the best. From yesterday to today I had two terrible mental breakdowns.I don't like to talk too much about my personal problems here, but I don't think it's fair to ghost everyone. Anyway, I just wanted to say that my next posts will be scheduled,(I'll see if I have any ready works to post, and hopefully I do), and I'll probably be back around February 5th or so. If I feel better I'll come back sooner, but I need some time to breathe.Don't worry, I'll reply to each and every one of you as soon as I get back! I apologize for the inconvenience, but I promise I'll come back better and respond to every kind interaction I've received!

Sorry for the long rant, but I kind of needed it. Thanks for your attention so far💕

"Look at me, love." Leon purred in your ear, watching you through the mirror.

Your legs spread, his fingers buried in your wet pussy, your cream dripping down his fists and onto the floor, making a mess where you sat.

Your lips hanging open as you moaned, your head resting on his shoulder as you couldn't even open your eyes without rolling them.

It was all so dirty, the mirror bearing witness to the scene that was unfolding. You in a bunny outfit, all dolled up for a party, it wasn't your intention to make Leon horny.

But what did you expect? Sending him a photo of you in that bodysuit, your ass reflected in the mirror and you making a naughty face. Of course Leon would come running to see you. How could he not?

You wanted to get his attention, since he hadn't been able to talk to you all day, so you had the brilliant idea of sending him these provocative photos. And indeed, you got his attention, and at the same moment he left all his chores and came running to see you.

Now you had to deal with him.

"All that for me, love?" Leon purred in your ear, using his thumb to massage your clit.

You hung your head again, letting the hoarse whimpers escape your throat every time he sank his fingers into you, hitting those weak spots that made you soft in his arms.

His mouth found its way to your neck, sucking and licking at the area, his teeth rubbing against your flesh lightly. His little smile only widened when he felt you tighten around his fingers, you were almost there once again.

You felt that familiar feeling forming in the pit of your stomach, your mind getting messy and unfocused, you just had attention at that moment.

Leon also sensed that you were close, watching your expression through the mirror. It was so exciting that he could stare for hours.

Your wet cunt welcoming his fingers so well, so slippery and warm that he could spend all day fingering you, without a break.

"So beautiful, look at you," Leon says, holding your jaw and making you look in the mirror.

Your face flushed, your cheeks as red as an apple, your glassy eyes that begged for his touches. Leon made a point of fucking you while you were still in that bunny costume you were wearing, just to see how hot and beautiful you looked.

"You only did that for a good fuck, didn't you? You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?" Leon whispers sensuously, using his thumb to tug at your clit viciously.

The way he spoke to you was enough to make you roll your eyes, your pussy clenching painfully tight around his fingers, you could bet that this time you wouldn't hold back.

"N-no, that wasn't it…" You moaned, rolling your eyes once more, feeling his fingers touching that weak spot of yours.

You heard Leon's chuckle, and he once again lifted your face, making you stare into the mirror once more.

"Open your eyes, princess. You look so beautiful when you come." Leon said softly, admiring your reactions.

And that was enough to get you there, you just felt your white cream being oozed out of your body, your eyes rolling back as you held onto his forearms tightly.

It was so dirty, the way you whimpered so slyly, his name sliding out of your mouth as you came. Leon kept holding your face, making you see the mess you'd made of yourself.

Through the mirror you could see him staring at you with those blue eyes, the corners of his curved into a naughty smile as he watched your fluids dripping from you.

And there he went, making you come for the thousandth time that night.And when he kept fingering you even after orgasm, you couldn't help yourself and started whimpering even more.

"Leon, stop, it's too much!" You whispered, pouting as you tried to win his pity.

But no, it wouldn't work this time.

"No, I'm sure you can take it." He says, slapping your clit, watching your every reaction.

You whimpered, keeping your pout while he played with your body. By this time Leon's cock was throbbing, aching as it was trapped in his pants, even he could feel his pre-cum soaking through his underwear.

But even though you were struggling to take it one more time, you cried out when he stopped stroking you, when you felt the emptiness he left when he took his fingers out of you.

He had better plans for you now, he wanted to watch a bit at that moment. He then sat down on his knees, leaning back as he saw your legs spread in that dirty way.

"Touch yourself." He demands, his voice low and husky, causing a chill to run down your spine.

You widened your eyes at his demand, biting your lip as you saw him undo his belt, push his pants down and pull it all out at once, his cock jutting out at the same moment.

Pinky tip, flushed, and swollen. The clear and perfect sign of the effect you had on him. Leon wasted no time in wrapping his hand around his dick, grunting as he lazily stroked his length.

You then began to do as he asked, keeping your legs open while you delicately placed your index finger on your clit, making small circles on the sensitive part.

"Keep going." Leon says, biting his lip as he watched you, he began to jerk off with more speed, keeping his gaze on you.

"But… I'd rather it was you." You say, looking at him with sly little eyes.

"If you do what I ask, I can give you what you want all night long." He says, fisting himself as he watches you rub your fingers over your clit.

So wet, soaking wet just thinking about the possibility of him fucking you, even if only with his fingers.

He noticed every detail, your hips rocking as you touched yourself and searched for more friction, right up to the point where you put a finger inside yourself, arching your back and moaning softly.

In one swift movement he moved behind you once more, wrapping one of his arms around your waist while pressing his chest against your back. And in the same instant you felt his size in your folds, his cock rubbing against you, making you both moan at the same time.

He forced you down, making his cock move back and forth in your pussy lips, making you squirm and try to get away from him.

Your movements on your clit stopped, and he growled in protest at your interrupted act. You felt his fingers sinking into your hips, just as he began to fuck you while maintaining total control.

"Keep going." He murmured, in an authoritative yet heated voice.

You obeyed, pressing your finger back into your clit, moaning even louder as you began to feel his balls slapping against you, he moved back and forth, his length grinding against your folds as he held you tight.

And you couldn't contain the moan you let out when you saw the trail of pre-cum running down his cock, making you salivate even more.

At that point you didn't know who was making more of a mess, you or him. Not least because even he couldn't hold back his grunts when he heard the wet, lubricated sounds that filled both your ears, along with your moans and grunts that mixed and became one.

"I'm close—" You moan, biting your lip as you look at Leon.

The image was what you needed to feel your cunt clenching around nothing, your body heating up as you felt your orgasm building more and more.

Leon fucking you from behind, his nails digging into your hips, to the point of leaving marks the next day. His cock emerging and plunging from your folds, your pussy lips becoming swollen from the repetitive movement that was driving you crazy.

You then began to move along with him, your hips moving back and forth, you couldn't hold back the sound that came from your lips every time you felt his balls slap against you. Heavy and full, slamming so hard against you that you could feel your skin heating up and burning with every thrust.

When you started rubbing your clit more fervently, he noticed, and soon grunted in your ear in a bossy voice:

"Pull out." He says, looking down at your fingers that were massaging your sensitive buddy.

Maybe it was just a way of being mean to you, to hold off your orgasm for as many times as he wanted.

"But… I'm so close!" You whimper, looking at him with the sly little eyes you were an expert at making.

"What a shame." He purrs, taking your arms and stopping you from continuing what you were doing.

He then took both your arms, holding them behind you, his hand firmly wrapped around your wrist while the other went back to holding tightly onto your hip.

Leon couldn't help himself and smiled when he saw the mess you'd made of his cock, to the point where there was an absurd amount of the creams oozing out of you.

So dirty, doing all this fussing while he was just teasing you, what a dirty little girl, but that's what you wanted, wasn't it?

"Mh, didn't you want my attention?" He purred once more, holding you tightly as he moved back and forth, rubbing his cock against you once again.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, his lips lightly touching your skin, and he made a point of giving you little bites, leaving his mark.

"My pretty little bunny, making a mess on my cock." He whispered, in a sensual and provocative way, almost making you feel ashamed of what you were doing.

But it wasn't that, he was proud. Why was that? Because he knew that he was the only one who could leave you like this, and that you were all his, made just for him.

The way he spoke to you made you whimper, humping against him like a bitch in heat, sweat sticking to your forehead as you looked at him through the mirror.

His blue eyes never stopped looking at you, the way you were soaking wet, that bunny outfit that suited you so well. Or whether it was the way your breasts swayed as he grabbed you from behind, grinning shamelessly as he watched you.

And you heard his laugh as you rolled your eyes, letting a sly noise come out of your mouth in a high-pitched way. You were coming.

His hand that had been on your hip went up to your chin, and he made you look at yourself as you came once more.

"Look, bunny, how hot you are. Look at the mess." He says, forcing you to watch your fluids running down his cock, making a new mess.

Just as you saw more pre-cum coming out of him, he was so turned on watching you that he could cum just like that.

White cream dripping off him, making his cock wet and sticky, you did it the way he liked it. The way you were able to do everything the way he wanted, including not holding back while you came, was just one more success on your part.

But now came the part he was most interested in, he was going to fuck you like he loved. Just the sight of the whimpering mess you'd become was exciting, you couldn't speak more than two sentences, you couldn't do anything but moan. It was all down to him.

"You wanted some attention, didn't you?" Leon asked, putting his hand on your back and making you lie on the floor.

Your chest pressed against the cold floor, your nipples hardening even more from the contact. He was still holding your arms, keeping them pinned behind you.

You just stared at him with a pout, moaning as you watched him play with you, lightly smacking your wet pussy, eventually lightly slapping your ass. He just wanted to tease you.

"Please?" You pleaded, arching your hips towards him, only to receive a harder slap.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" Leon purrs, positioning his tip at your entrance, and taking the opportunity to rub his tip against your clit.

He knew he'd have to stop himself from cumming too quickly, because just seeing you in this position was enough for any of his fantasies, it was what he needed to see to go over the edge.

"So be it, I'm going to fuck you exactly the way you want, bunny." He says, a wicked smile on his lips.

And then without you expecting it, he thrust into you all at once, and you felt the delicious stretch he gave you every time. Your pussy stretching to accommodate him with such mastery.

You just moaned, you were incapable of doing anything else, completely drunk on his dick.

You only had time to close your eyes tightly before he started hammering into you, without the slightest pity, just fucking you hard and deep just the way you liked it.

His grip on your hips was strong, and he handled you as if you were a doll that weighed nothing, thrusting into you as he pulled you back onto his cock. Your bodies slammed together abruptly, making that filthy sound echo throughout the room.

Leon was all sweaty, his muscles flexing with every movement, and you could watch him fucking you from behind as you watched the scene in the mirror.

While Leon had the perfect view of his cock sinking into you, your warm walls engulfing him in a unique way, making him grunt at how tight you were, and how hard you could take him. Your juices leaving a white ring at the base of his cock, honeying all over him, acting as if he was the only cock for you.

It was too much for Leon, watching you moaning like that, whimpering desperately as he fucked you. His response was to pick up the pace, his balls slapping against you as his tip reached points so deep you couldn't even imagine.

It was all so fast, you didn't even have time to think as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him hard as you wet his cock even more. Your voice loud and sly, your nails gripping the carpet hard.

And that's what he needed, the last little push, the image of you cumming on his cock in such an obscene way was enough for him to grunt loudly and pump his seed into you, withdrawing his cock and sinking back in with a deep thrust, making sure to finish inside.

For a while, the only sound you could hear was your breathing, shallow and heavy, as you tried to catch your breath.

But then you caught Leon looking at you, the bunny ears that were on your head falling slightly below your face, that bodysuit that drew out your every curve.

He squeezed your hips, looking you up and down. Oh no, he wasn't finished with his bunny.

You wanted attention, and he was going to give it to you all night long.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #re leon #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon re4

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empresskylo · 2 months

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I’m begging for you to write about virgin!Ghost and virgin!reader,lots of love 🩷x

virgin!simon 'ghost' riley x virgin!afab!reader

a/n: this truly spoke to me, so thank you for this. i wanted to write a pathetic, nervous ghost, but decided to write him how i actually think he'd act if he was a virgin.

warnings: mentions of SA (reference to ghost's past as mentioned in his comics where he is SA'd); smut

cod masterlist

Who would ever think Simon Riley was a virgin?!

I mean look at the man!! Rough and assertive. A lieutenant who everyone is afraid of. Easily in his mid-to-late thirties. Crude with his jokes. A damn war criminal. Why would anyone in their right mind assume he was a virgin?

Except that wasn’t the whole picture. Simon stood witness to how his dad treated women when he was younger. Saw the way he mistreated sex workers. And Simon didn’t want to become like his father, so he ended up distancing himself from girls his age, afraid it might be in his genetics to be shitty. And he watched his “friend” almost assault a woman once—Simon was disturbed, desperate to not emulate that. And not to mention he was big and scary, he was worried he’d frighten women, so he just avoided them for the most part. And when he was sexually assaulted, he thought maybe sex just wasn’t for him.

And now he was older. Too old to be a virgin, he thought. He wasn’t a self-conscious man, but he didn’t want to disappoint anyone in bed either, so the more he put it off, the more he didn’t want to do it all together. He also found it hard to form relationships in his line of work, and he refused to pay for sex.

So, by his mid-thirties, he was still a virgin.

Then he met you and it felt so easy being with you. He felt himself wanting to grind against you the first time you kissed—that's when he realized how depraved he had been for so long, he didn’t realize how much he was truly missing.

And one night, after you and him had been a thing for a little while, you finally got the nerves to kiss him and straddle his lap. His hands naturally found your waist and he ran them up and down your sides, gently squeezing your flesh above your clothes.

Then you pulled back, looking down a bit shyly.

“What’s a’matta?” he asked you, his hands still firmly gripped on your hips.

“I, uhm,” you stuttered. “I’ve never done this before.” There, you finally said it. You were so worried Simon would become awkward when you told him, what if he didn’t want to be with someone so inexperienced? And you didn’t know if he was going to be uncomfortable with the idea of being your first time—that maybe he didn’t want that responsibility.

His hand slid up and nudged your chin to look at him. Simon was already planning to go as far as you’d let him, and he had decided he wasn’t going to tell you he had never done this before. If you said he was bad in bed, he’d apologize and lie, saying it had just been a long time since he’d been laid. But then you admitted you were in the same boat as him (aside from the fact that you were much younger than him.)

“Me neither,” he admitted.

Your eyes met his and you cracked the smallest of grins. “Don’t make fun of me!”

He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “M’not.”

You blinked at him. “R-Really?”

He chuckled. “Never really had the opportunity, I’suppose.” That was the short version.

“Oh.”

You squirmed on top of him and he groaned. “That, uhm. Makes me a little less embarrassed.” Your eyes averted his.

Before you could ramble more about it, Simon jerked your head down to kiss him. “Happy to help.”

You smiled against his lips and Simon gripped your hips tightly in his hands, pulling you down against him. You would have thought he’d be a little more reserved, awkward even, having never had done this before. But Simon Riley was a confident man. He was self-assured. Bold. Fearless. And he wasn’t going to let his lack of experience hinder the potential between the two of you.

You gasped, feeling how hard he was in his pants as he yanked you against him. He hummed against your lips, the softness of them making him imagine what they might feel like wrapped around his cock.

When you whimpered in the back of your throat, Simon was quick to twist you around and lay you flat on your back on the couch. He bullied himself between your legs and refused to let you catch your breath before his lips were back on yours.

“Please,” he begged pathetically, pawing at the hem of your shirt.

You gave him room and he stripped you quickly, clearly enthusiastic about having you naked beneath him. You clawed at his shirt and he was more than happy to oblige, tearing it over his chest and unbuckling his pants.

Your knees had come together as you watched him strip and he smirked. His hands slid along your calf before pulling your legs apart and weaseling his way back to where he was. He kissed you again, both of you anticipating what was to come, but nervous at the same time.

You bucked your hips up as his hands traced your bare side. He broke the kiss. “Want me t’touch you, love?”

You nodded your head, your face warming. His hand snaked its way between your bodies, tracing the apex of your thighs and rubbing against you. “L-Lower,” you gasped. His fingers shifted and you couldn’t constrain the moan.

“There?” He asked you, tilting his head as he admired your wanton expression.

Your breathing hitched when his fingers found your entrance. “Jus’ tell me if you want me t’stop,” he whispered against your lips.

When you said nothing in response, he pushed one finger inside you. You squeezed around him tightly, your body trying to push him back out. You arched your back off the couch as he shoved his finger all the way inside of you. He began to pump his fingers, you were already soaking for him.

He watched you intently, the obscene noises from his fingers shifting inside you making him harder than he thought possible. It was also making him blush and causing his heart to race. His fingers might have trembled slightly if they weren’t buried inside you, busy at work. Your eyes locked with his, your brows furrowing, feeling him slide another finger in along the first. He was a bit clumsy as he worked you, but it felt good just the same.

“My god,” you gasped.

Simon groaned when you clenched tightly around his two fingers, imagining how that would feel around his cock instead.

“Sound so pretty,” he cooed.

Your arms grasped at his biceps, your hips rising to meet each pump of his fingers. “Want you inside me,” you whimpered.

Simon clicked his tongue. “Already inside you, love,” he teased, curing his fingers upwards as if to say, see.

You pouted, your body jolting with electricity from the deep baritone of his voice. His fingers stretched you out plenty, you weren’t sure how he was supposed to fit inside you… but you wanted to find out. You wanted to feel the pressure of his throbbing cock. You wanted to watch him grunt and groan with pleasure above you. You almost wished he would come prematurely, too drunk from fucking you to keep himself together. You were the first person he was going to fuck and a strange swell of satisfaction filled your already racing chest.

“Si-Simon,” you whined.

He smirked before slipping his fingers out of you. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he sucked the wetness from his fingers, his eyes darkening and never breaking contact from yours.

“Want me t’fuck you, sweet girl?” he asked, gripping his cock in his fist and giving it a few pumps.

You watched and swallowed before letting out a pathetic, “Yes.”

He fell back on top of you, his hands on either side of your head, his knees bent on the couch as he settled himself between you. You shifted your hips to give him a better angle as he lined himself up with you. You both watched as he moved himself between your bodies. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ ya.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Simon was pushing the head of his cock inside of you. He was a bit rough when he entered you—a bit jittery and weak with anticipation—though he tried desperately not to be. You squeezed your eyes shut, your nails digging into his biceps. Simon groaned, edging himself in a little at a time. “You okay, baby?” He asked you.

Your eyes fluttered open and you gave a hesitant nod. “Yes. Keep going.”

His thumb stroked your cheek then brushed over your bottom lip. Your fingers slid up his back, dancing over the corded muscle and scars under your fingertips. Simon edged himself in, then out, and repeated that until he could finally seat himself fully inside you. Your thighs clamped around his waist, wanting to stop the intrusion on instinct.

“M’ all in,” he told you, his breath airy like he had just run a mile.

“Oh, thank god,” you said exasperated.

Simon chuckled, the deepness of his voice vibrating through his chest and across yours.

“Can I move?” He asked you.

You swallowed, the stinging between your thighs subduing. You nodded. Simon leaned down to kiss you, his dog tag dragging across your chest, the cool metal warming. Your lips parted, his own moving against yours. Simon devoured the gasp you slid into the kiss when he pulled out halfway. He pushed himself back in and you groaned, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. He grabbed your thigh, hiking it up slightly so he could get a better angle.

He continued to thrust inside you, only pulling out halfway each time, before struggling to push himself back in. He kept at a slightly awkward rhythm, grunts slipping past his lips and ghosting across yours. His head slid into the crook of your neck, your nails digging into his back, but Simon could barely feel that. All he was focusing on was how heavenly you found surrounding him.

“Shit,” he moaned, surprised at how fast he was approaching the end. Simon knew that plenty of men struggled to get off the first time from sheer nerves. Others lasted barely any time at all. But he also knew women seemed to struggle the first time, not even expecting to orgasm until much later down the line.

Simon wasn’t going to let that happen. He slowed his pace, only doing small little thrusts, his hips rolling against yours, pushing you back into the mattress. His hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit, and rubbing circles. You arched your hips up to get him to touch you at a better spot and you mewled.

“Close?” he beckoned.

Surprisingly, you were. You hadn’t thought you’d actually get this close to orgasming your first time. You thought you’d be a ball of self-conscious nerves. But with Simon, you felt comfortable. Relaxed. Excited. Beautiful. And the way his fingers were putting pressure between your legs was making you see stars.

He continued his small pumps, wanting to focus on you more than himself, but he couldn’t help but growl in the back of his throat, your warmth tightening around him.

His movements grew more rapid and you cried out his name. He cursed, feeling you spasm around him as he led you into your climax, his final ruts sending you over the edge. You finally clenched down so hard, Simon had to pull out, rubbing himself against your clit and coming onto your stomach.

He groaned, “Fuckin’ hell.”

You were panting, your chest rising and falling in rapid beats. It took you both a moment to collect yourselves. He stared down between your bodies, taking in the sight. Now that you weren’t in the heat of the moment, you suddenly felt self-conscious, all too aware of the way your entire body was laid bare to him.

Your hand shifted to cover your chest and he clicked his tongue. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, love.”

Your chest swooned from his admiration. He quickly leaned over to grab his t-shirt to clean you off. You felt your face warm before he scooped you up into his arms, ready to carry you to the bathroom.

“Good?” He asked.

A simple question. But one he needed to hear the answer to.

“Perfect.”

Simon grinned, trying to suppress his teeth from showing, but he couldn’t help it. He tucked you closer into his chest as he marched you both to the bathroom.

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strawberrystepmom · 4 months

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pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader

word count: 3.6k

about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.

contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).

notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!

header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡

“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”

How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner?

“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.”

You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.

He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.

For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips.

“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.

God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.

The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.

“I know more about both of you than you think.”

Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.

Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.

“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.

“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”

Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.

You do not fight him off.

“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”

He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.

“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.

“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.

The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.

It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.

It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…

Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar.

“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”

This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.

“What do you mean?”

A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.

“Interesting.”

His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you.

“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.

Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.

“Suguru.”

You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.

“Kenjaku, actually.”

He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.

Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing.

Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.

“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.

His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.

“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.

Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.

Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.

You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock.

When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.

“You’re so impatient.”

The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked.

“As good as you imagined?”

Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel.

It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel.

Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him?

You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.

“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length.

His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip.

You like this. You want this.

He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.

Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.

“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth.

You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.

“Kill me.”

Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below.

“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.”

Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.

Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.

The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.

#kenjaku x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #kendall writes

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kairiscorner · 8 months

Note

OKOK BUT

Jealous!Miguel stealing your attention only because you told Ben Reilly he has nice muscles 😭

You know that dude, when he's jealous, makes it clear that you only belong to his *wink wink*

AGHHHHHHH i live for jealous miggy for real

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

yeah, i'm... just a jealous guy, so what? — jealous!miguel o'hara x reader

miguel was at his wit's end, hearing you giggle as the blonde, buff-oon of a spider man was entertaining you with his muscles, that miguel was very certain that he had beat in every aspect possible. he didn't mean to brag–he honestly wouldn't care in a normal setting–but objectively speaking, his muscles and figure was far more superior than that of ben reilly's.

he respected ben, both as a spider man and a person, though he couldn't bear the thought of you–one of his only real friends and someone with a decent, functioning brain in the entire spider society–entertaining the blonde boy by giggling along, praising him, and running your fingers and hands over his biceps and muscles. ben dared not to show his true, flustered self as he kept 'accidentally' flexing at you, making you chuckle even more–annoying miguel even more, because... he should be the one making you all embarrassed, flustered, and giggly with his own much thicker biceps and muscles.

"it's just... so stupid." he muttered to himself as lyla chuckled. "gonna challenge ben to a flex off?" she sarcastically asked miguel, who–for a hot minute–ironically considered the notion, but ultimately decided against it with the shake of his head. "no, no need. i'll get over it." he said as a low grumble, which lyla raised her eyebrow at. "oh, will you, now?" she asked him with a hint of mockery, which made miguel snarl a little and sigh loudly. "you'll see." he declared with some spite in his tone.

he did not move on from it, not one bit actually.

it was driving miguel insane, because every moment he caught you that day to catch up and talk, he always caught you with ben–watching him entertain you yet again with him 'coincidentally' stretching and flexing those muscles he was so proud of but always played them off coolly when you happened to come by and... stare at him showing off.

this was it, this was the final straw–he had to prove to you once and for all just who you fold to, who makes you so flustered with a simple gaze your way with those piercing hazel (sometimes red) eyes of his–who made you want to have more and more of him and wouldn't be ashamed to get on your knees, or on all fours if he commanded you to, and beg for him to love you all evening into the early hours of the dawn. he had to show you who loved you, and who you loved endlessly.

when you entered miguel's office to report back to him on the statuses of some anomalies he needed word back on immediately. though when you entered the room, the atmosphere felt... entirely different now. you searched for miguel here and there since he wasn't there up on his platform, nor was he anywhere where the small pools of light touched the walls and floors of his office–he wasn't there, at least, not in front of you yet.

"you called, querida?" he asked you as he placed his larger palms on your smaller shoulders, feeling up your flesh gently and letting out low breaths as he got closet to you. your back felt his chiseled abdomen pressing against you, his pectoral muscles being pushed against your shoulders. you shuddered and felt your face get a little heated. you tried turning around to tell miguel you had the reports he was asking for, but it was a little hard to do with him pressing against you like this.

you finally turned around and pulled away from his grasp, but when you did... you were taken aback by the sight. he was completely shirtless, showing off his sculpted upper body, the curves and bulging of his arm muscles and built abdomen, and the only thing he was wearing was a flimsy pair of boxers that... looked a little thin from where you were standing. you gulped at the lump in your throat and tried to ignore the heat in the walls of your throat as you faced him with an embarrassed expression. you hurriedly handed him the report and tried to get away from him, but he blocked you in your tracks and looked down at you with darkening eyes.

"what's the rush, cariño? run me through these... one-by-one." he asked of you, which sounded more like a demand for you to stay, really, as he moved closer to you while you backed away–backing yourself up against a desk and being pinned against the wall by miguel as he loomed over you and stared you down.

"again, cariño... what's wrong? you gotta run me through these all... now tell me, what's the status on these anomalies?" he asked you as he gently ran his hand over your arm and raised an eyebrow again and involuntarily flexed his arm muscles by pinning his arm against the wall you were nearly backed into if not for the desk in between you two.

"y'better start talking, bella, or else... i might just make you talk myself." he said with a lower, sultry voice as he brought his face even closer to yours, your noses brushing together, and him hearing you whimper a little as he took your smaller hand in his own, bringing it to his abs. "what, cat got your tongue? that's not the little sweetheart i know... c'mon, say something." he encouraged you as you whimpered again and finally mustered the words to utter to him. "...you're... kinda big..." "kinda?" "v-very big..." you blurted out, all flustered as miguel leaned in closer, smiling, about to plant a kiss on your luscious lips. "how sweet..." he muttered as he kissed your lips gently, buttering you up before he shows you how much he's craved your attention before making you desperate for his attention soon enough.

you're in for the long haul this time... before the night ends, all your love and attention will all be on him, and only him–nobody else, just him and his body–and how his face contorts into a wide grin when he sees you stammer, eyes wide, and fluster over how much of a grip he has on you with those muscles he's got. maybe you'll spend the rest of the day with miguel tomorrow, hmm? ben and everyone else can wait... but miguel certainly can't.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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kakushino · 7 months

Note

Giyuu gets a cramp in his thigh while training and needs a massage. He's in too much pain to do it himself... but there's this Kakushi nearby... 👀

Flamey, you made me choke on my saliva when I read this. Please, give me more

And with the girls in our discord feeding me... I could not resist. My brain went brrrrrrr

Word count: 0,7k this is filth, also chubby fem reader

Masterlist

"I-is this good?" she asked, massaging his left thigh with careful strokes.

Giyuu was sat in one of the rooms of Water Hashira estate, the shoji doors leading to his training space open. She had had to strip him of his hakama, leaving him only in his fundoshi and a thin training kimono top.

"Yeah..." he muttered, closing his eyes. More than once he had been tempted to fake a cramp just to get her to touch him like this, but logic won every time. A kakushi's job was endless, especially when attending to a slayers' needs day in, day out.

But this?

Giyuu hoped it never ended.

Her warm hands, softer than his own, kneading his thigh oh so close to his crotch-

He moaned when her fingers dug into a particularly hard knot in his muscles. A light blush dusted his cheeks.

"Sorry..." she apologized, soothing over the spot with her thumbs.

Really, he should make it up to her - for putting up with him.

And, as he felt his cock stir in his pants, he knew just the way both of them could relax.

"S-slow down- ngh!" she tried to muffle her cries of pleasure, but each slam of his hips against her ass stole one from her throat. He was so impossibly deep it felt as if he was pushing on her lungs from the inside.

Giyuu could not slow down if he tried, the ripple of her body when he thrust into her hypnotic. He was lost in the motions, his left thigh still sore from his earlier cramp though he cared little - what else could he care about but the way her snug cunt gripped his cock?

Though he was silent, he was not quiet. Breathless gasps and choked moans left his lips, adding to the wet pap pap pap symphony of their fucking, the only witness to it being their discarded clothing.

His hands gripped her plush hips tightly, flesh spilling between his fingers, making him admire her sturdy frame.

He had to see more of her.

Giyuu withdrew from her to turn her onto her back, her mewl of disappointment only urging him to be quick in slamming back inside of her. This time, he got to see her deliciously big tits bouncing with each thrust; his mouth watered at the sight.

“Giyuu~” her voice was strained, whiny, as she tried to grab at anything and everything in reach.

He leaned forward, the need to be closer to this hidden pearl of a woman winning over the enticing movement of her body against his. His arms caged her in, their breaths mingling and she finally found purchase - clawing at his back desperately, and the pain only served to make him slam harder into her, urging him to chase their pleasures quicker.

The new position allowed him not only intimacy but also to grind against her puffy clit with each roll of his hips, her moans and cute squeaks rising to a crescendo, her tight pussy clenching around him, making him choke out, “Where-”

Her thighs tightened around his hips, the answer as to where an obvious one, even to one as lost as him. A few erratic, disharmonic thrusts, and they were both gone.

Her throat failed her, her mouth gaping open, eyes closed and brow furrowed. If Giyuu could paint, he would immortalize the sight to come back to - to come to. Alas, the only thing he could paint were her insides with white.

His breath stuttered as he stilled as deep as he could, a shaky groan leaving him as he hid his face in her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her skin, as they both slowly calmed down.

“That was…” she started breathlessly, unable to finish her thought, fireworks still shooting up her spine every time Giyuu shifted a little.

He knew he had to leave her warmth eventually, but he also really really wanted to snuggle into her arms properly. He started to pull out with herculean effort, when his right thigh spasmed like a bitch.

“Fuck-” He slipped out and flopped onto his side gracelessly. “Another one-” A blush of embarrassment took over his face, the pain and humiliation all adding to his frustration at the situation as he hid his face in his hands.

The Kakushi giggled, “I guess it’s time for round two.”

Oh, he’d give her round two, as soon as the pain passed.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear

#desi's moots time uwu #desi's ask box #giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #tomioka giyuu #giyuu smut #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #smut #IM NOT OKAY THIS IS PURE HORN #chubby reader #sub!reader #sub reader #kakushino

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florence-nomachine · 5 months

Text

Freak - Mike Schmidt x Reader (Songfic)

Mike dials a 1-800 number and gets more than what he asked for.

A/N: Reader is a secret sex guru, and an unlicensed therapist, 18+ only. I'm going to abuse the FUCK out of this GIF. Based on the song 'Freak' by Doja Cat!

Word count: 2.2K

Tags: SMUT / Sub! Mike, Dom! Reader / Fem!Reader / Handjobs / Edging / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Marijuana usage / Brief mention of contraceptives (the pill)

‘Call 1-800-2323 for the answer to your troubles. Enlightenment is just a phone call away!’

Mike looked down at the card in his hands, given to him by Abby’s wellbeing officer out of concern for his personal troubles. He’d never read too much into spirituality, but considering psychoanalysis hadn’t gotten him much further than his usual dream it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

The dial rang, and he expected to hear a raspy elderly woman with a smoker's cough. What he didn’t expect was a lively, young voice at the other end of the line.

“…How may I be of assistance?”

“Uh — There’s something in my past — It’s been bothering me for practically my whole life…I need help finding the answers…”

“Hm,” the voice hummed. “Vague, but I sense you’re holding back…I like ‘em that way…Name?”

Freak like me You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Freak like me

“Mike Schmidt,”

You'd heard of him from your mom’s friend.

“I’ll book you in for Friday at 8PM,”

“Okay…How much will I owe you? Money’s a little tight right now…”

“Don’t worry. It’s all free of charge,”

Tied him down to my queen bed Tease him just enough to hate me Tied it tight enough, he can't break free Keep him waiting 'til he try This can go one of two ways We could flip the coin, I'll be your slave Call you daddy, give me a nickname I ain't afraid of a little pain (No, I ain't 'fraid of a little pain)

He showed up at the address listed on the card a little after 8PM and rang the doorbell, his hands in his pockets as he scanned his surroundings. You, the mysterious voice, answered the door, and you briefly took his breath away, dressed in a nude, flesh coloured spaghetti strap dress that stopped halfway on your thighs, paired with a sultry smile.

“You must be Mike,” you grin. “Come in,”

The interaction is brief, and he follows you to the couch, an armchair sat traditionally opposite like it would in a therapist office. You gesture for him to take a seat and he does, already feeling like he was under a spell. His eyes glance down briefly at your bare legs as you cross one over the other, letting out a soft moan as you got comfortable. Blood was slowly and suddenly draining from his face to his cock, and he moved his hands to cover the issue, which didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“So, Mike…What is it that’s haunting you?”

He wanted some'n else and he wanna be selfish He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him Look, I know your position Try to squeeze in the full nelson though Beat on it, beat, beat on it, mercy like a black belt give Daddy the grand master, daddy, I want it faster Them bitches you fuckin' with, I know they gon' need some practice So bring 'em along wit' ya, I'll teach 'em how to smash ya When I made a little mess on it, he told me to clean my act up

He told you everything; from his brother’s abduction to the breakdown of his family and his living situation with his sister. He was a tortured soul, and he just needed a bit of release. You were so, so glad he’d been referred to you.

“I empathise with you, Mike,” you sigh, leaning in. “It must be hard,”

Hard. Painfully hard.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” you say coyly, and he shakes his head. You notice he licks his lips as you get up, recognising how the dress is clinging to your body and beginning to bunch up your thighs. For a split second he gets a glimpse of your black lace panties, and his now fully hard cock twitches in his jeans.

He wants you, and he’s almost certain you want him too, but a deeper part of him wants to let it play out. For once, he’s not in control of all of the decisions and he wants to keep it that way.

“What I’m hearing is that the route of your issue is frustration,” you say, eyes locked on his as you reach out to run your fingers through his messy locks. “When was the last time you ever thought about yourself?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t - I can’t — How is this going to help me find who took Garrett?”

“Because you’re thinking too hard, and it complicates things. It’s time to redirect your attention,” you purr, dragging your vowels so that it produces a tone that sends shivers down his spine.

“…How?” he chokes, eyes wide and pupils dilated. You’re so fucking close to him now, and he thinks he might burst. You smell like weed and sex, and he can’t stop staring at the way your strap is sliding down your arms.

You slide off your dress in a quick motion, revealing your bare body. Mike is rabid now, unable to stop staring at your hardened nipples and the barely there material of your panties.

Freak like me (Tryna freak you down) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak

“I’m gonna touch you, Mike,” you say simply, and it holds a thousand words. “And then you’re gonna fuck me,”

Hey, I could take a big bat, bet that he thinkin' this a game Hey, batter, batter swing, you could put it on a swing Freak like a triple XXX flick, put her on a chain This pussy off the chain, this kitty insane I could fuck him in the rain, I could fuck him in the Range (Uh) I could fuck him every day (Uh), I'ma fuck him 'til he sang (Uh) Milkshake bring the boys to the yard, I'ma need the whipped cream Ain't ever been vanilla, honey, just wait until you get a taste

He knows he can say no, but relaxes into your touch. One hand rubs his upper torso, massaging his tight muscles as the other is wrapped around his neck as you plant gentle kisses along his cheek and neck before you move to his lips. His kiss is eager, and he wastes no time in finding your tongue with his own.

He needs this so fucking badly, and he doesn’t want to let go.

The kiss continues as you begin to claw at his body, and he briefly pulls away to tug off his jacket and shirt before resuming the make out session. His body tenses as your hands make their way down his chest, down towards the beginning of his happy trail. He desperately wants you to continue the skin-to-skin contact, but you slide your hands over his jeans instead, squeezing him through the material.

He furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small whimper, earning a gasp from you. He was so pretty.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t hold back…”

Skirt off, fuck in the backseat Take that shirt off, baby, put it on me Got me like, "Yeehaw," ride it like a horsey Kinda like see-saw, up and down on the D, give it to him

You relieve his frustration by hastily pulling at his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, leaving him in his briefs. They were black and you could see a clear wad of precum that had been built up over the past hour. Wasting no time, Mike lets out a louder moan as you slide the material down, his cock springing up onto his pelvis. It’s average sized, but with a slightly thicker girth, and is bright pink with want.

“Kiss me,” you instruct, and he nods. His lips find the crevice of your neck and collarbone as you begin to grip his shaft, his tip between your thumb and index finger as you squeeze out some remaining precum, the liquid pooling around your fingers.

It’s pure pleasure for him as you take the entirety of his cock in your hands, slowly beginning to jerk him off, not forgetting to cup his balls as you do. He throws his head back as his hands clench, physical pressure dissipating as you take his hands in your own, guiding it to your breast.

“Fuck…” Mike groans, beginning to massage the skin as you coo in his ear, your grip tightening and fastening on his cock. Four of his senses are overstimulated, and the icing on the cake is your unrelenting sultry stare, making sure you were attending to his every need.

You were the goddess he never knew he could have.

Freak like me (Need a freak like me) You want a good girl that does bad things to you (You want a good girl) You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (Now you need a freak)

You could feel him shudder underneath you and knew he was loosening up, edging closer to orgasm. His whimpers and groans were now louder, and he’d found the confidence to latch onto your nipples, pawing at the skin with his hand whilst his tongue swirled along the hardened bud.

Spreading your legs over his, you angled his face towards you as, taking in his hazel eyes.

“Touch me, Mike,” you said, gaze flickering down to your pussy. “Touch me like I’m touching you…”

He moves away from your breasts to make his way between your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet cunt. He lets out a deep sigh at the sensation, feeling rather proud of himself as you begin to writhe against him.

“Is this good?” he asks, sliding a second finger into you.

“So good,” you moan. “You’re so good for me, Mike,”

His heart and his cock swells, and your bodies begin to move in sync. He quickly finds your clit as your pace quickens on his cock, and you both begin to reach a point of ecstasy.

“Y/N…” he whimpers, lips wet and eyes glassy. “I’m gonna—“

“I know, baby,” you whisper on his lips. “But not yet,” you say abruptly, and draw away. He’s shocked, and stares at you open mouthed.

You respond with nothing but a smile.

“I’m only here to guide you to enlightenment, not give. You have to do the rest,”

He’s totally blank.

“Let go, Mike. I’m here,” you say sweetly, and it feels strangely romantic. “Take me…Do you want me on top, or bottom?”

“Top,” he responds without hesitation. “You’re beautiful,”

Mike can barely contain his euphoria. You, a literal sex goddess, are sat on his lap, body on full display as he fucks up into your tight, wet pussy. The pleasure is almost painful, and he’s almost worried that he’s hurting you by the way his hands are gripped on your hips and his thrusts are desperate and sloppy. All the anger and frustration from his past was slowly unravelling, and judging by the knot in his stomach, so was he.

Freak like me Freak like me (You never, you never, you never been) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak (You need a freak) Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (You need a freak) Freak like me (Like me, papa)

“Oh fuck,” you whine. “You’re perfect, Mike. So perfect,”

You weren’t lying, he looked gorgeous; pussy drunk and sweating, his frayed bangs clinging to his forehead in an odd pattern. Your lips met once again as he pulled you into him by your waist, the kiss sloppy as he drew his cock deeper into your cunt, hitting all of the right areas.

“I’m so close Mike,” you whined. “Cum for me…”

“Where…?” he whispered. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to see you covered in his cum, or see it seep out of you and down your thighs.

“Wherever you feel best,” you said devilishly, before placing your lips to his ear. “I’m on the pill,”

The words sent him over the edge as he came, hot and heavy spurts of cum filling into your warmth as you finished along with him. Mike bit his lip as he held you close, almost on the verge of tears as you soothed him through the last of his orgasm. A weight had suddenly been lifted away, and he could feel his eyes grow heavy with tiredness.

After a few moments you pulled away from each other, your nude bodies dropping to either side of the couch. Still high from orgasm, you pulled your dress back on and leant over the armrest to open a drawer, not oblivious to the way Mike was staring at you fondly.

Babe, you never been with no one nastier than me Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby Put your head on my shoulder Hold me in your arms, baby Squeeze me oh so tight Show me that you love me too

“Wanna blaze?” You asked, holding a joint to your lips. He paused in thought, not wanting to let go of the moment before answering.

“Can I use your phone?”

You nodded and gestured to the phone, watching as Mike dialled a number.

“Hey, Max - Can you put Abby on the phone? Something’s come up and I can’t make it home tonight…”

#florence_nomachine #florence writes!!#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #fnaf smut #songfic

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ken-dom · 8 months

Text

Sex On The Beach

Ken x reader

Summary: Ken's new to a lot of things in the real world. You know, like sex. And cocktails.

Author's notes: This is set at no specific time but Ken has a penis, and I just wanted to give him a little boost. A sexy one.

Warnings/content: nsfw - smut, reader has a vagina, mention of hand jobs, cum play, cream pie, praise, first time, glittery Ken cum! ✨

'How does it feel, baby?'

Ken is brought back to you at the sound of your voice, his lungs abruptly filling with breath and his eyes rolling back into place.

'Warm... r-really warm and s-soft... ohhh-'

'Yeah? You like it?' you smile down at him.

He nods eagerly, biting his lip and whining because he can’t think clearly enough to speak anymore.

You roll your hips slowly, keeping a careful and steady pace. He’s so deliciously responsive and so blissed out already that you’re afraid to go too fast and overwhelm him; as amazing as he feels, stretching and filling you with his perfect, pretty, plastic cock, you're able to keep your composure for now where he lost his the moment you sank down onto him.

'Good boy, Ken... you're doing so good for me,' you praise him.

He whimpers and bites his lip, and your heart skips a beat. It's almost endearing, the way he responds to your words.

You caress his cheek with your palm, needing to feel closer, to show him the affection he’s so desperate for, and he presses his face into the warmth of your touch.

Needy little thing aren't you? you think, watching him writhe and blush prettily beneath you. Gorgeous.

You finally begin to speed up, chasing your own pleasure and equally wanting to test the water, see how he reacts.

And boy do you get a reaction.

Loud moans and gasps punctuate each breath he takes while his fingertips grip desperately at the sheets, almost pulling them clean off the bed beneath him.

His jaw drops, his eyes screw shut, and fuck, he looks as though he's cumming already.

'You can touch me,' you pant, caressing his cheek. 'You can ask for what you want-'

'P-please- feels so good- d-don't stop!' he cries, finally grabbing your hips instead of the sheets, sighing shakily as he kneads your flesh.

You hope he’ll leave bruises, but you don't tell him that for now. He might not understand yet, and you don't want him to worry about it.

'Don't worry, baby, I won't stop. You're safe with me, just focus on how it feels...'

He looks so fucking irresistible, perfect hair now mussed and cheeks flushed pink.

You lean forward to swallow him into a deep kiss, and the new angle, with the way he’s bucking his hips up into you, sends a jolt of pleasure sparking through every nerve in your body.

You moan his name then, and to him it sounds like he's the only thing you'll ever need.

It ends him.

His back arches off the bed and he practically screams out, strangled and excited and overwhelmed - and comically high pitched as he pants and whines down from his high, trembling beneath you.

His fingertips drive so hard into your hips that you groan at the sweet pleasure-pain, your walls contracting around him to squeezing out every last drop of that glittery, pink cum you love so much. You must have given him at least ten handjobs this past week alone just to witness the beauty of it spilling in shimmering, ample amounts from his slit again and again.

As your climaxes subside and you're left face to face, breath hot on each other's faces, Ken gazes up at you as though you're the most important thing in the world to him.

'WOW,' he bursts, breathless and wide-eyed, 'that felt... different.' He turns pensive, brows knitting.

'Good different?'

'Really good different,' he beams.

Carefully, you shift to lay beside him, easing off his cock slowly. Even with your consideration, he feels cold and somehow empty now that he's no longer inside you.

He immediately rolls onto his side to gaze at you. With anyone else this would be uncomfortably intense, but with Ken it feels right somehow.

'Was I... did I...' he hesitates, unsure. 'Did I make you feel good too?'

'Yes, Ken. You made me cum so hard,' you smile, turning to face him properly, pecking his lips.

He lets out a little giggle. 'And my glitter... my cum... it's inside you now?'

You laugh softly. 'Yes, inside me. Just how I wanted it to be.'

He nods, understanding yet slightly bemused, a smug expression crossing his handsome face.

'Ken... do you want to do it again?' you offer, dragging a finger teasingly down his side.

His eyes light up. 'Really?'

'Yes, really. I seriously need another dose of your Kenergy.'

He closes his eyes to calm himself, bringing a fist up to his lips and uttering a quiet but excited, 'Sublime!' under his breath. He flips over onto his back to assume your previous arrangement, but you pull him back to you, slipping your hands up into his soft hair, burying your face in the crook of his neck, making him mewl.

'There are different positions we could try...' you whisper, guiding him on top of you and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He lets out a delighted little, 'Ooh!' at how closely you're entangled, revelling in your embrace.

'You were so good and...I trust you, Ken. I need you.'

Ken's lip quivers as he holds back a sob. He was already hard again, eager as ever, but now you've told him he did a good job at making you feel good? That you need more of what he can do?

A bead of glittery slick drips, glinting, from his cock and he groans at the sensation of fleeting relief before forcing himself back to the present with you, hungry for your attention.

'M-maybe I should change my job,' he mumbles, clearly proud of whatever he's thought up.

'Yeah, what too, Ken?' you smile up at him.

'Sex and Beach,' he drawls, a mildly cocky glint in his eye. 'Y'know, instead of just Beach.'

'How about sex on the beach?' you joke, but he doesn't quite get it.

'Y-you can do that? Oh-'

Another thick pearl of sparkling pre-cum leaks down his throbbing shaft at the thought and his head drops as he tries hard to compose himself long enough to last for you.

'I'll take you for one. Sex first though. Then sex on the beach.'

He nods, serious and dutiful as he slowly slides back inside you, trying not to think too hard about why you referred to having sex in his favourite place as 'taking him for one.'

It doesn't matter anyway. Sex and Beach with you. That's all that matters right now.

#not s f w 💀#ken #ken x reader #ken x you #ken smut #ken x y/n #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling!ken #ryan!ken #ryan gosling #rg!ken #ryan gosling ken #ken barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #ken-dom writes #ken fic #kenergy

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oncomingnight · 9 months

Text

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

You were an admirer of Omar's music for almost a year now. So, you could imagine just how thrilled you were when you were able to snag some tickets for you and your friend for his concert.

Hours before the venue doors were set to open, you were smoothing your outfit of its wrinkles, fussing with your makeup, lathering yourself in lotion multiple times and making sure you were the best smelling person in the crowd. You didn't expect for him to possibly notice you, but it was a nice thing to think about. It was also an excuse to get dolled up.

When the venue doors were finally opened, you practically dragged your friend to get to the closet spot near the stage, as the tickets were general admission.

As the concert was slowly progressing, you were far too entranced by Omar's gruff and all consuming voice to notice he was looking at you. At your sparkling eyes, your fidgety fingers, the pleased smile you were failing so horribly at hiding.

Oh how lovely you were. Omar never knew the beauty he would witness when coming to your city on his tour. He wanted to get this concert over with to invite you, and only you, backstage. He usually invited fans backstage to hook up with them, but you, oh were you special. He wanted you all the time, not just for that one night, not just for a sexual favor.

As his beyond immensely wonderful concert ended, you began to walk out of the building along with your friend. But, you were suddenly stopped by a man that had the frame to be a security guard.

"Omar would like to meet you backstage. You can wait out here if you'd like. But, you, come with me."

If only you could see the look of pure shock on your face. You looked at your friend and she smiled at you before saying, "go, I'll be in the car."

You timidly followed the man through a dark hallway with black ceramic tiling. Suddenly, he stopped in front of a door that had the singer's name on a gold-plated board. "Go right on in."

Your hand turned the silver door knob and you almost flinched when you saw Omar sitting on a black leather couch, his full attention on you.

"yeah, you're the one I saw. Don't be so shy, c'mon, sit down right here, next to me."

He proceeded to ask you about yourself, what attracted you to him and his music, his drive for writing songs, what he does outside of his work. The two of you spoke of almost everything there was to talk about. You told him things you never expected to tell someone upon first meeting, but it felt different with him. You gave him your social media, not expecting how fast he was to message you. I'm talkin', as soon as you left his dressing room, he immediately struck conversation in your direct messages.

The two of you proceeded to talk for weeks on end before he finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend. You were absolutely ecstatic, but then, you were a bit nervous to face the potential backlash from his intense fandom. But, he swore that he would strike down any attempt to belittle you. He'd absolutely humiliate and ruin someone's self esteem after they tried to come for you. One look at their profile and, oh boy, he'll make them deactivate their account immediately after his response to them.

Yeah, it was shocking to see how protective he was of everything that had to do with you. But, it made you feel secure and incredibly appreciated. He never let you go a minute without letting you know how much you meant to him and how intensely happy you made him.

The way this man writes about you is pure poetry. It makes people weep and stare at the lyrics in awe with the amount of love he carries in his penmanship. He isn't the type of artist to use you purely for his craft, no. The two of you are one in flesh, he writes so you know just how willing he is to throw himself on a sword for your benefit.

The songs he writes in your name put the most beloved poets to shame. You'll regularly see people fawning over the way he writes in absolute adoration of you. People will leave comments like:

"why can't he talk abt me like this" "put this on his fyp, not mine." "Sleeping on the highway tn! 😆" "Oh to hear this song live w/ him." "He posted me to this song 🤭."

It's to the point where people propose to their spouse at his concerts.

Omar yearns for you so intensely whenever the two of you are apart. Sure, he'll hang out with his friends but he knows something's missing. They're just not as fulfilling as you.

He always thinks about marrying you and sealing the deal, but, he's trying to do it in the most perfect way. You were a bright orb of light and he was so desperately trying to find his way to the right path, and oh did you help him. He wants to plan everything just right, not wanting anything out of place. He discreetly measures your ring size and keeps in his mind what engagement ring you are most likely to love.

Omar gifts you the best presents that anyone could ever ask for. The thing is, you never ask for them, he just does it because it makes the both of you happy. Seeing the apple of your cheeks pop out as you smile at the gifts in his hands, his heart is practically crawling out of his chest.

"Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adore this but ....oh, Omar...how much was this, hm? I need to step up with my gifts, you're so consistent with yours." You lightly laugh as you finish your sentence.

"It didn't cost enough. Don't worry about the price, your love is enough of a gift for me, حبيبة قلبي."

He'd take you on the most beautiful vacations to any of the cities/countries he's heard you fawn over. Want to visit New York? Of course. He'll take you to the best cafes with the most appetizing food items, book a hotel with the loveliest view of the multicolored lights of the restless city, reserves a table at restaurants that only the most self disciplined chefs work.

For Christmas every year, the two of you go on the loveliest trips together. He'll fly you out to his cabin in Quebec. The presents that are put under the tree are only of the best quality, of the finest fabric and material.

You're always his plus one when he attends events for only the best of the best. You deserve to witness and experience absolutely anything and everything wonderful to the fullest.

Translation: حبيبة قلبي ; Love of my heart/ sweetheart (so basically the same thing)

Thank you very much for reading ⁠♡ feel free to send asks/requests!

#yandere oneshot #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere singer x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x willing reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc x y/n #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #oc x reader #oc x yn #oc x you

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mahg-stuff · 2 months

Note

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

───

AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom.

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs?

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you.

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?"

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless.

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly.

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion.

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words.

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today."

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment.

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments.

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game."

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin.

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily.

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head.

"I can handle."

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him.

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him.

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself.

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace.

"Goddammit!" He started.

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!"

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you.

His pride was unexpected for you.

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed.

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him.

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so.

"That right?"

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have.

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion.

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray.

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity.

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked.

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again.

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred.

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability.

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you.

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring.

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas."

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room.

This wasn't your Elvis.

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room.

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs.

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened.

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place.

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused.

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around.

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase.

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space.

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in.

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice.

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation.

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe.

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze.

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye.

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity.

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden.

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room.

It always tortured you when you saw him like this.

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first.

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out.

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek.

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight.

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass.

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips.

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes.

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss.

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts.

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes.

A look you may never get used to.

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath.

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her."

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit.

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements.

Making you even more rosy.

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you.

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor.

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low.

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there.

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand.

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you.

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed.

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down.

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that.

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes.

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable.

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now.

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it.

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you.

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control.

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips.

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance.

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip.

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder.

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit."

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck.

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly."

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm.

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl.

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more.

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe."

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much."

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease.

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock.

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole.

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back.

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it.

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened.

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced.

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing.

You nodded, unable to say any words.

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls.

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery.

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips.

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you.

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his.

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole.

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest.

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly.

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him.

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back.

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you.

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes.

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky.

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face.

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl.

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence.

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay."

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples.

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin.

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler.

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration.

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later."

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing."

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen.

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone.

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss.

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again.

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thefireintheshadow · 2 months

Text

He’d done it. He’d gotten his mending book.

[authors note: this seems like a cute little fic about grian and his mending book but it is in fact a dark mafia fic jsyk…]

Grian couldn’t believe it had finally happened. It was so surreal that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He went through the motions of cleaning himself up. It felt good to shave, see some color on his cheeks. Even his eyes were brighter.

When he returned to the dock to clean up all of his fishing gear, there was a silhouette in the setting sun. He couldn’t make out who it was, a broad frame almost haloed in glittering red.

“Hello, Grian.”

He squinted. “Beef?” As he grew closer, he could make out the source of the glittering, a suit that appeared to be crafted from salmon scales. “Wow.”

“Been doing a lot of fishing lately?” Beef asked, running a hand up one of the pillars of the little hut.

Something felt off in Grian’s gut. Something in his friend’s tone felt…predatory. It couldn’t be. This was Beef. He was one of the sweetest guys around. “You could say that,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “But I’m all good now, got my mending book.”

“Is that so?” Beef cocked a brow, and stuck both hands in his pockets, as if on a casual stroll. Something in his gait screamed danger, though, and was this just too much time spent in death games? Was this overflow from Secret Life and Demise and—

Beef stopped on the block over Grian’s storage room. No.

“Why don’t you come on downstairs?” Beef asked, but it was hardly a request. “Because somehow I don’t think you’re all good.”

He pulled out a handful of seeds and composted them, disappearing through the floor.

Grian’s pulse thundered in his ears. What the hell was going on? How did Beef find out about his secret area? And what the hell was up with that suit? His head spun.

On the surface this would look like a fun prank. A bit.

But it didn’t feel like a bit. It didn’t feel fun.

He didn’t want to go down there.

But something told him he needed to, some instinct buried deep. Though surely Beef just wanted to make a deal for something in the chests down there, right?

Heart hammering, he composted and dropped down.

But there was nobody there. His guts twisted. Beef meant down downstairs. This was getting weirder and weirder, and that sense of danger felt sharper and heavier.

He dropped down into the cave and his heart ceased to work.

He couldn’t quite register at first the tableau in front of him. His gaze zeroed in on Mumbo’s face, beautiful skin marred by blood and tears.

“Grian! They’ve gone-” Mumbo cried, but his words choked off on a scream as a sickening snap echoed and suddenly time seemed to stop.

Grian’s ears buzzed, as if no other senses other than his sight were capable of working at a time. Mumbo was on his knees, hands behind his back, face twisted in pain. Skizz stood behind him, muscled arms gleaming as he took the kneeling man’s disheveled hair in one of his fists.

Skizz didn’t look quite right, though. His eyes were too big, almost bulbous, and too far apart. His face shone with what Grian had at first thought was sweat, but no, it was as if his skin were made of…scales? And nowhere was that soft, sweet, fun-loving Skizz energy. He looked maniacal. A maniacal, half-mutated fish man.

And Beef. Beef in his salmon-scaled suit, still cool as a cucumber, hands in his pockets, watching the scene with detachment.

Grian sucked in a deep, ragged breath as his lungs screamed for air, and time seemed to start again, his brain somehow catching up with the fact that he couldn’t just watch the scene forever.

“Walk with me, Grian,” Beef said, strolling towards the redstone door.

“No!” Grian cried, his entire body quivering. “What are you doing to Mumbo? Skizz!” He took a step forward, but in a flash, Skizz jerked Mumbo’s head back, exposing the tender flesh of his throat, and pressed a glittering diamond sword against it.

“I already broke his wrist, want another lesson?” he warned, and something was wrong with his voice, it sounded so distorted.

“My associate here will take good care of Mumbo,” Beef said as the door opened. “I’d like you to show me this room.”

Grian swallowed hard, staring at Mumbo with desperate eyes, the man he cared about most in this world, the man he’d do anything for. Somehow, somehow he’d fucked up and now Mumbo was in pain and there was fucking nothing he could do. Why hadn’t he brought any weapons down here? Why hadn’t he acted on his instincts up there…god.

A drop of crimson beaded on Mumbo’s throat, and he hissed in pain.

“You’d better go, your little friend has thin skin,” Skizz warned gleefully.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Grian said, forcing his feet to move, one in front of the other, towards Beef, towards the door…away from Mumbo. “Please stop hurting him.” The words came out so disgustingly weak sounding, and he hated it. He wanted to press his thumbs into Skizz’s mutant eyes until they popped out of his fucking head, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.

Skizz lowered the sword at least, and Grian scurried after Beef into the manifest room.

“Tell me about this,” Beef said once the door closed behind them, spreading his arms.

“It’s my…my manifesting mending room,” Grian said, and it sounded so stupid now. He had to admit he’d gone a little batshit with all of that fishing, with his obsession. What did this have to do with Beef and Skizz, though?

Beef pursed his lips, shaking his head. “It looks to me like a cod-worshipping room,” he said.

Grian’s blood rushed through his ears. Was this what this was all about? Types of fish? “No, they were just, easier to build statues of,” he insisted. “The color palette-”

“I don’t believe you,” Beef snarled, and his blazing anger was so jarring after being calm for the entire exchange. “Big Cod is trying to get a foothold here and my employer is not going to let that happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Grian asked, head spinning. “This is literally just for me, you can see my painting at the other end-”

“I saw the painting,” Beef interrupted, turning his back, clasping his hands there, walking down the platform to look at the painting in question. “Quite an expensive piece, for a fisherman.”

Grian scrubbed his hands down his face. “Well I’m not just a fisherman-”

“No, you’re not,” Beef said, whirling on his heel. “You know, my original thought when I was tasked with eliminating the cod threat was just to blow this whole thing to hell with you inside it.” He raised a finger. “But I thought, no need to make such a mess. I think I can bring you to heel with the right motivation.”

As if in cue, the redstone door opened, and Skizz dragged Mumbo in, shoving him back to his knees. His nose was freshly bleeding, and he looked about to collapse completely.

“Beef, please, whatever you think this is, it’s not,” Grian begged, whirling back towards him. “I swear I don’t know anything about…big cod-I just-”

There was a thump and Mumbo groaned.

Grian whirled again as Skizz pressed his boot against the man’s back, shoving him into the floor.

“Stop hurting him!” Grian cried, turning back to Beef. “Please, what do you need me to do? Just stop hurting him!”

Beef reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar – since when did he smoke? – and flicked a zippo, taking his time lighting it evenly. He puffed, then tossed the zippo over his shoulder, landing it neatly at the bottom of the painting.

It went up quickly. Grian watched the flames, swallowing hard. He was happy to trade the painting for Mumbo’s safety, but it was still hard to watch it go up like that.

“Since you have your mending book, you won’t be needing that anymore,” Beef said, smoke trailing as he strolled up the walkway, free hand back in his pocket. “And since you’re certainly not working for Big Cod, you won’t need this room anymore. Dismantle it. Destroy it.” He pointed at Grian, cigar smoldering between his fingers. “I will be checking. And you don’t want to have this meeting again, do you? Who could I motivate you with next? Gem? Or how about Scar?”

Grian shook his head vigorously. “No, you don’t have to motivate me, I’ll do it.” He took a step back. “Please, just let Mumbo go and I’ll do it right now.”

Beef patted him on the cheek, chuckling as the sickly-sweet smoke made him cringe. “Yes you will,” he said, and stalked past him, snapping his fingers on his way by Skizz. “Kill him.”

Grian screamed, launching himself towards them, but he was too late, Skizz stabbed Mumbo through the back of the skull and Grian landed on the hard floor, next to the bundle of bloodied ropes left behind.

“I don’t want to see your face on the surface until it’s done,” Beef said as Skizz crossed the threshold. “Or else.”

The door closed, leaving Grian alone and sobbing on the floor.

[read on ao3]

#I couldn’t help it #hermitshipping #grumbo #hermitblr #hermitcraft #brainrot #fanfic #hermitcraft fanfic #grumbo fanfic #big salmon #big salmon fanfic #ao3 #dark fanfic #dark salmon #salmon mafia #what are these tags idk

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misscongeniality18 · 11 months

Note

Hi! I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SO MUCH SO I'M HERE AGAIN! This time I would like to ask you to write something about Kaz Brekker and reader where she is like a longtime friend and a member of the Crows. The two have always had feelings for each other but never spoke about it so, when they argue because something dangerous happens, the truth comes out and a smut at the end?! I love this prompt so much. I don't know why but I'm so obsessed with best friends to lovers!

OMG girl yes, I love this trope too! This is my first fic with any smut, but I'll try my best! I also didn't mean to make this so long, but it just sort of happened?

Movement - Kaz Brekker (18+, Minors DNI)

Synopsis ! You and Kaz have been friends forever, but lately, you couldn't help but want something more. When the two of you are put in danger's path, both of your truths are out in the open. Pairing ! Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Genres ! Friends-to-lovers, angst, fluff, smut Warnings ! Violence, blood, danger, language, reader is the only one who can touch Kaz, maybe slightly ooc Kaz?, kissing, nudity, sexual content (fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex [wrap it up people]) Word Count - 3047

" When you move

I'm put to mind of all that I wanna be

When you move

I could never define all that you are to me "

- Movement, Hozier

Masterlist Request Guide

You and Inej ran across the rooftops, jumping from gable to gable. Tonight's heist had a plentiful bounty that sat nestled in Inej's pockets. The two of you had been charged with stealing some pieces of the Ravkan crown jewels that had been taken from the palace and illegally sold.

What did Kaz want with stolen jewels? He may be your best friend, but not even you could read his mind. He had tells, of course, as did almost everybody, but Kaz’s past made him especially skillful at hiding them. You knew this all too well.

After all, you had been the one to pull him out of the harbor.

You had been infected with firepox like Kaz and his brother, but Jordie was the only one who perished out of the three of you. You didn’t know them personally at the time, only in passing. When you and Kaz were both dumped into the harbor with the others who had died, thought to be dead yourselves, you had woken up to same horrors of rotting corpses around you and the feeling of cold, mushy flesh.

While you had been around death and illness before—witnessing your parents die of the disease—Kaz hadn’t seen anything like this until then. He’d had to use his brother’s body as a life raft to swim to shore. You’d grown up swimming in a nearby fishing village, so you swam to shore easily. When you saw Kaz struggling, you’d reached out to him, and he’d hung onto you for dear life.

That night had been traumatizing for him, and for years afterwards, he was unable to touch anyone. It took several more years to get him to touch you, and you’d been patient and worked with Kaz to get used to the feeling of skin on skin again. But it could only be you. Anyone else, and he’d be right back in the water.

You were always there to pull Kaz out of the murky depths, witnessing him at his lowest. You were also there to see him in his triumph of leading his Crows and defeating Pekka Rollins. Finally, he could rest, and Kaz wanted to do it with you.

While planning heists, of course.

Kaz didn’t want you going along, and he’d always try to persuade you to stay behind or at least stay by his side. He always had a soft side for you, so he’d usually meet you halfway. You were in the same boat; your connection to Kaz originated from your soul, and you’d do anything to appease him. But tonight, Kaz wasn’t there, so you took the opportunity to join Inej on the rooftops.

You just didn’t expect anyone to shoot you.

Kaz stormed into your room at the Slat, the door slamming into the wall behind him as he took in your white undershirt lifted just enough to reveal the bloodied gash on the side of your ribs. “What the hell happened?”

You rolled your eyes as Jesper held you down while Nina worked to heal the wound in your side. “It’s a scratch, Kaz. I’m totally fine. The bullet didn’t hit anything serious.”

“Bullet?!” Kaz exclaimed in shock. “I was told you fell off the roof.”

Wylan, from his spot in the corner of the room, hummed in opposition. “That was after she was shot.”

You suddenly let out a groan, squirming in Jesper’s arms. Kaz rushed over as fast as he could, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. “Move, Jes.”

Kaz took Jesper’s spot in keeping you still while Nina finished healing you. “It’s going to leave a scar, but you should be fine by the morning. Good thing the bullet never actually went through you.”

“That will be enough, Nina,” Kaz said lowly, and everyone knew to clear the room as fast as they could.

As soon as the others were gone, you sighed, pulling your undershirt down to cover your bandage. “Say what you’re going to say and get it over with.”

“How the fuck could you be so stupid? Joining Inej on the roof, of all places? Why not be with Nina or Jesper on the ground? We all know how clumsy you are, so it was just a matter of time before you fell off, and oh, look. You did!”

You snorted. “Like Wylan said, that was after I was shot.”

Kaz glared at you as he paced the room, leaning heavily on his cane. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Nothing ever does. You never let me do anything.” A child-like pout formed on your lips, and Kaz wanted to tuck your bottom lip back in place.

He refrained, however. “I have my reasons.”

“Saints, Kaz,” you huffed, sitting up and carefully standing, trying to keep your bandages in place. “If you’re not going to let me go on jobs, why am I even here?”

Kaz met your eyes, the most intense and unique shade of blue you’d ever seen. “When we were young, we promised to stick together. Don’t you remember?”

You swallowed, memories flashing behind your eyes; pinkies interlocking, teary eyes, and yes, the promise that the two of you had made.

“Of course I remember, you idiot,” you replied, holding out your pinkie finger.

Kaz glanced down at it out of the corner of his eye, dead set on refusing, but he could never say no to you. He sighed, linking your bare finger with his gloved one. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he whispered, deep and low in his throat.

You shook your head, lips turning upwards. “You will never lose me, Kaz. I’m yours forever.”

Something crossed his eyes for a brief moment, something you’d never seen before.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Do you mean that? That you’re mine?”

You furrowed your brow, searching his face, but he turned away. “Kaz? What is it? Why are you asking me this?”

He sighed your name, closing his eyes. “I—I think I…The way that I feel about you…I think it’s…I think…”

Kaz trailed off, his chest rising with every breath, unable to finish his sentence, and he turned away. But his shield dropped, and you were able to see every emotion he was feeling.

Now you recognized what you were seeing. You’d just never seen it in Kaz before. It all made sense. The way he never wanted you in harm’s way, how he would always turn to you for advice, secrets that only you knew, the smiles that appeared only when you were around. Kaz cared for you. He…

He loved you.

Your heart soared because you loved him too. You have for a while now, but you’d never been able to act on it. Yes, Kaz was able to touch you, but in this capacity, you weren’t sure.

Taking the small step to close the distance between you was terrifying, but you were meant for terrifying things.

“Yes, Kaz,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

You looked down at his lips, the palest of pinks. Your breaths intermingled, you were so close. “Are you… Can I…?”

You hated that you couldn’t get the questions out. It was Kaz, but you still felt like you should know him well enough not to ask. But since it was Kaz, you had to. You didn’t want to do anything he wasn’t ready for.

“I’ve never… I don’t know how,” he admitted, turning away from you, cheeks turning the color of his lips.

“It’s okay,” you said, slowly lifting a hand. At your inquiring gaze, Kaz nodded. Your hand was warm against his cool skin. “I’ll follow your move.”

Kaz inched closer, noses brushing. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, eyelids fluttering. “Yes. Are you okay?”

He let out a breath, sending gooseflesh over your skin. “Yes,” he answered, and then his lips touched yours.

It was like no kiss you’ve ever had before. The others you’d kissed had been rushed, a frenzy of lips and tongues and teeth. But Kaz’s kiss, it was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to stop time itself and stay in this moment with you.

All in all, you were seeing a different side of Kaz. He usually had a hard exterior, the ruthless Bastard of the Barrel persona he had created. When he was alone with you, he was more relaxed and open, but still haunted by the ghosts of his past. You’d never gotten to know the boy he was before, only the one you had helped out of the harbor.

Was this who you were seeing? Not Kaz Brekker, but Kaz Rietveld? A boy who was curious and sweet-natured, tender and benevolent?

Then his tongue stroked your bottom lip, and you jumped in surprise.

“Was that wrong?” Kaz asked, panic lighting up his eyes.

“No,” you said, shocked. “It was right.”

Kaz grinned at you, a true smile this time, not the little thing he did as the notorious gang leader, and his gloved hands gingerly touching your waist, careful of your injury. “Can we do it again?”

You returned the smile. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, much more confident and sure than before. When his hands moved across your waist, brushing your bandaged side, you gasped.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your lips between kisses.

You hummed, chills running down your spine when his hands gripped your hips. “It’s okay.”

“I’d like to try something else, if that’s okay?”

You pulled back a hair’s breadth to look into his eyes, his pupils blown wide, and you knew how much your kisses were affecting him. “Are you sure? This isn’t moving too fast for you?”

“I’ve wasted enough time, and I don’t want to wait any longer. I just…” He lowered his head, stray bits of his hair brushing against your bare shoulder. “I’ve never done this before.”

You brushed away the hair that had fallen forward, lifting his head to you. Your fingers tangled themselves in his dark locks, silky and fine to the touch. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Kaz leaned forward and kissed your forehead, a simple, gratuitous kiss, and then he brushed his lips across your temple, your cheekbones, your jaw, and then the crook of your neck. He was experimenting, finding each touch a new and thrilling way to explore you. “Is this okay?” He mumbled against your shoulder.

You had your head tilted back, eyes closed. Every single one of Kaz’s kisses tingled against your skin, and your breath came out in pants. “Yes,” you gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Kaz continued to press kisses to your shoulders, across your collarbone, against your throat. “Tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Do whatever you want,” you breathed.

“And if I want to take your shirt off?”

You opened your eyes, lids heavy with want. Kaz’s eyes were blazing with a fire you’d only ever seen when he’d defeated Pekka Rollins, but that had been a sinister and triumphant flame, and this was burning only for you out of desire.

“Then take it off.”

Kaz fingered the hem of your shirt, lifting it ever so slowly. He avoided the bandage on your side, and when the garment was over your head, he tossed it to the floor.

“Saints,” Kaz cursed, gazing at your bare skin and breasts. “You’re so beautiful,”

You pulled him towards you, kissing him feverishly. “Touch me, please.”

Kaz ran a hand over belly, up your ribcage, and lightly trailed his fingers over the swell of your breast, causing you to gasp in his mouth. “Is that good?” He asked, his voice low and coarse.

“Yes.”

“What about this?” He inquired as his thumb brushed against your nipple.

“Yes,” you whined, enjoying his experimentation. He wasn’t trying to be seductive, you knew, but Saints, he was doing a very good job. Your lower belly fluttered, and desire pooled between your legs.

“And if I were to…”

A gasp left your lips as his mouth closed around a nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. One of his hands squeezed the breast not occupied by his mouth, and the other settled low on your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass.

Your own hands gripped the collar of Kaz’s shirt, and you pulled him towards your bed. He moved to support you as the two of you lowered to the mattress.

Kaz gazed down at you, bare and flushed for him, glowing in the candlelight. You really were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. If it was between you or mountains of gold, he’d choose you in a heartbeat. Hell, he’d even give the gold to Pekka if it meant keeping you forever.

You trailed your fingers over the expanse of his clothed chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath. Then you undid one button, and then another, and another. You blinked up at him, searching him for hesitation. “Is this okay?”

Kaz nodded, starting to undo some buttons himself, and your fingers met in the middle to slide the fabric over his shoulders together. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you, feeling his bare chest against yours as your lips met again. Legs opening to accommodate his body, you held him to you, and you never wanted to let go.

Hands were everywhere, to your surprise. Never before has Kaz touched you like this, so unreserved and wanting. Before, he would give you a hand to help you up, or a simple pat on the shoulder for a job well done. But this, you didn’t want him to stop.

His hands brushed against the fastenings of your pants, and the hesitation set it. Kaz’s throat bobbed, and before he could say anything, you reached down and undid the buttons yourself, shimmying the material over your hips and kicking it to the floor.

Kaz raked his gaze over you, a faint blush creeping over his skin. He licked his lips, his fingers sliding down your hip, over your thigh. His eyes met yours, and you felt yourself melting under the intensity of his desire. “Can I?” He asked, and you opened your legs in answer.

One finger ran over your seam, and your breath hitched. Then Kaz spread you, the pad of his finger brushing against the tiny bundle of nerves that made you moan. Kaz looked up at you, mischief gleaming in his eyes, and he touched you there again.

Your head thrown back, you gripped your sheets tightly, the anticipation making you squirm. Kaz followed the trail of your wetness to your entrance, and he drew tiny circles around you, and your hips bucked in search for more. This made Kaz curious, so he slowly pushed his finger into you, and you sighed.

You were so warm and wet, Kaz found. And the more he moved his finger, withdrawing it from you before sliding back in, the wetter you became. The sounds you made stirred something within him, setting his heart to pounding.

Then you moaned his name when he hit a certain spot inside of you.

“Kaz.”

He lifted his head to you, and you were watching him, your pupils so dilated, they covered the beautiful color of your irises. Your chest was rising and falling as you stared at him, and then you sat up, causing his finger to leave your warmth.

You reached for him, pulling his face to yours in a kiss. “I need you,” you whispered against his lips, and your hands were creating a trail down his chest and to his belt. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Kaz said, and his hands joined yours in unbuckling his belt. Together, you removed his pants, and Kaz kicked off his shoes.

You slid a hand between you, touching the hard length of him with your fingertips. A groan left him, and his head dropped to rest against your shoulder. You pressed a kiss to his hair as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly moving up and down. He grew harder with every stroke, and he began to press kisses to your neck and shoulder.

An idea sparked in your mind, and you hooked one leg around his hips, flipping so you were on top. Kaz’s eyes went wide, and he met yours as excitement and expectation set in. You continued to stroke him, and as you moved to hover over him, you asked, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he replied, and he crashed his mouth to yours as you slowly lowered onto him.

Saints, this was better than your hand. You were extraordinary. Mouths moving against one another, bodies joined in a way that was so intimate, nothing would ever take its place. This was heaven, and Kaz would never be the same after this.

You moved, sliding your hips away from his before returning back to him. Every stroke of you around him made Kaz’s insides tighten until it felt like he was going to burst. He ran his hands over every inch of you he could reach, over your arms and shoulders, your waist, and following the movement of your hips.

The moans continued to leave your mouth even as you kissed him, and when you muttered that you were close, he felt you tighten around him, and that was his undoing.

Everything within Kaz shattered, as if something snapped within him. He held you against him, not wanting to let you go. When your breath returned, you slid off of him, the evidence of his release sticking to the insides of your thighs.

“Will you hand me my shirt?” You asked, collapsing beside him.

Kaz leaned over the side of the bed, grabbing the thin undershirt you had been wearing. You cleaned him off first, then yourself before throwing the shirt back to the floor. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Kaz held you close, and you tucked your head underneath his chin. Your legs were intertwined, and so were your fingers, the sweat making your bodies stick together.

This moment was perfection, Kaz thought, and he nuzzled your hair.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Your lips turned upwards in a smile as you pressed them lightly to his chest, eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.

“I love you, too.

#fanfic #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker smut #shadow and bone #six of crows #soc #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

Text

Yandere Demon x GN! Reader

Word count 2.3k

Warning for swearing

Needless to say, your new roommate was a pain in the neck. Less of a roommate and more of a demon waiting for the moment it can calm your soul, to be precise – but wasn’t much of a difference. A friend of yours had an interest in the dark arts. A bit too much of an interest; seeing as they showed up on your doorstep one day with a dusty, old book and babbling about how it could summon creatures of the damned and unknown. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the courage to try any of the spells on their on; which is why they called upon you to try it out.

You were skeptical, as most people would be, but the second your drop of blood hit your bedroom floor your expectations were shattered. The surface spilt in two as if the droplet were the hand of Moses; cries of the wicked fleeing the chasm like sirens although far from harmonious. An ebony skeleton reached through, gripping at your rub; flesh and muscle forming over its bones as it crawled outward. It had two sets of jaws; one where a mouth would normally be and the other diagonal down its face between where it’s eyes would be down to where its normal one was. Four, eyeless sockets fall on you; dual irises that filled each space studying your small frame.

The creature would stand to full height; inches from scraping your ceiling. Horns hindered its moving space further; two twisting masses that arched backwards against its skull. Swirls and other patterns covered its pinkish skin. Transform near complete; it lets out a loud screech – the flesh of its face creeping over its blackened tongue and sharp teeth. It brings two talons to its chin, cracking its neck to an ninety degree angle before it falls back in place. Despite its lack of lips, its chest exhales; finally finding words to speak.

“Ah… It’s been so long since I’ve been to the mortal realm..” It chuckles darkly as it turns to you. You had been sitting in the corner the whole time, trying not to fall into the now closed hole in your floor.

“And who might you be?....”

You remain silent.

“At a lost for words? I don’t blame you. Most people tend to doubt my existence, even when they summon me. Let’s not delay this encounter longer than we have to.”

It leans forward, offering a hand as its cheeks stretched in what you imagine to be a smile.

“Worry not, human. I shall lay you no harm, until the day of your demise. Upon death, your soul will be mine, but until then my power is yours. What is your first order, master?”

You stare at his hand. “…. Leave.”

“As you wi- wait, excuse me?”

“Can you just – leave? Like you said I didn’t expect this to work and I’m not even the one who wanted to see if you were real in the first place.”

“You’re telling me, you used an ancient book of knowledge to summon me.”

“Yes…”

“And that you don’t want me here.”

“Yes.”

“And the thought of unlimited wealth or power is meaningless to you?”

“Yes?.... Can you go now?”

No.”

Two weeks had passed since them. The demon tried everything to get you to use his power in any way from offering things mankind should never witness, to hiding your household items in hopes you’d ask for his assistance. He couldn’t deny that you were interesting, but your dismissal was like a slap in the face to him. He’d swore to make you acknowledge him eventually and in a way that day did come.

You had just come home from work; tired to all heck and aching for rest. Before you could get some much needed sleep, you had to fill your stomach first. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping and it was too late to order, so you’d just have to scrounge up whatever you could find. As you walked into the kitchen, you smelt something pleasant – like a mirage your overworked brain had conjured. One that blended with reality the further you entered the room.

Resting on the table was a plate of your favorite food; heat radiating as if it had just came out fresh. You eye it cautiously; known that demon was up to something- but you were too hungry to care. You take your seat and pick up the utensil; taking a bite. As if you had just opened the portal to hell once more, the demon appeared at the other end of your table.

“I see you’ve eaten the meal I made for you. If you just used my power, you could have a personal chef making finer meals for you every-"

“It’s good.”

“..Pardon?”

“You said you made this right? Like, no demon magic involved?”

“Well, of course. I’ve been a servant for mortals in the past and had to learn how to care for your kind – such as the ways of culinary arts.”

“It’s not bad, good job. Make sure you clean up before you leave though.”

The demon is at a lost for words. At this point he was loosing hope in gaining your attention, and he finally had it though briefly. Goosebumps raised his tuff skin. Why did it feel so different getting praise from you, and over something so small at that? He watches you eat your meal till you had your fill; one pair of eyes pointed at the silver passing your lips. He picks it up once you leave for bed, picking at the remains of your food. He takes a bite himself. It was good, as you stated. He knew it would be, but the utensil stayed at the roof of his mouth longer than needed not for the flavor.

After that day, he began doing more household chores for your favor. Cleaning, waking you up on time for work – even mending tears in your old clothes. The rules of the contract between you two required a verbal order from you for it to be pact, but he did all without asking no longer just to fulfill his role. The slouch in his back would straight for a while whenever you begrudgingly ate the food he made or took a clean shirt from his hands; standing tall with pride. He began following you when you left home too, claiming due to the contract he couldn’t be far. Fortunately, he was able to make himself invisible to others, but a seven foot tall demon in the corner of the room wasn’t the most pleasant thing to great customers in front of.

He made his affections known for you at the stroke of midnight one cool summer night; whispering words of loyalty to you while he thought you were asleep.

All of this led to where you where today; sitting on your couch across from your bewildered friend as your oversized hound peeled fruit behind you with his talons. They watch in fearful awe as he hummed away, breaking the fruit off into pieces for you to eat. His large hands reach over the back of the couch to offer it to you; palm big enough to crush your head like a grape if he so pleased.

“Open wide, Y/n~ Every human likes apples and they’re good for you.”

“..I’m good.”

He lets out a creaky whine. “But I’m not making dinner for another two hours and I want to make sure you’ll be fine until then.”

You look over at your friend. “You seen what I’ve had to deal with for the past three months?”

The demon takes your lack of a response as an ultimate refusal. Disheartened, he opens his mouth; the skin covering his teeth tearing open as his jaw unhinged. Two lines of flesh remained intact on either side of his lips, giving him the appearance of having three mouths. He shovels the entire fruit down his throat without evening chewing; remaining complete eye contact with your friend the entire time. He pulls the core from his mouth with a grin.

“I- uh…I.” They stammered; too afraid of the glare they were beneath to speak – going pale as the demon runs his tongue over his jagged teeth. Of course they didn’t think believe you when you called them over to deal with the demon you summoned, but now that they were here they were seconds away from shitting bricks. The air had been hostile from the second they stepped foot in your home. Your demon guard didn’t take too kindly to guests. Though they’d never mention it publicly, they were sure he even growled at them while you were in the bathroom.

“Anyway.. I need your help to get rid of it.”

They freeze, eyes carefully shifting up to the demon. How could you be so bold right in front of him? He flinched. His eyes narrowed; hatred burning yet none of it directed towards you. His expression softens in an instance; followed by another displeased noise as he speaks.

“Baron. My name is Baron, Y/n. And stop talking about getting rid of me. I haven’t tried to take your soul in weeks.”

More of a recent feat, he had started going by the name Baron. He tried to get you to get him to give him one, but you refused. Good thing too, since it would only make your bond stronger.

“I’ll call you whatever I want.”

He perks up. “Does that mean you’ll give me a name?”

“…Moving on. Do you think you can help?”

“What happened to the book?”

“Got burnt up when I summoned him.” You point at the charred booklet on the table, wilted pages barely held together by its leather. There even seemed to be a few claw marks in it. Baron looks away.

“I.. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank God..” You relax as if a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders. The conversation doesn’t last much longer after that. You lead them to the door, Baron standing post behind the couch. You pull them into a hug, to their surprise.

“Thanks again. It’ll be nice to spend some time with you again.”

They slowly wrap their arms around you, blush tinting their face. “Yeah…”

What could have been a calm moment between friends becomes a horror filled nightmare for one as they look over your shoulder. Drilling rage in the form of a medusa like stare; freezing them into place. If looks could kill, your friend would be dead for several lifetimes. Baron lifts the core of the apple, crushing it to pulp in his hand. He licks its juices off his hand before pulling his digits into a shushing motion. They suddenly gain use of their legs again and run off.

You return to the couch, plopping down on it with a sigh. Baron continues to stare at the door, dark aura surrounding him. He suddenly snaps his head back to you, bubbly as can be.

“Hey, Y/n? Can we watch more of that show you were watching last night? I made sure to pause it after you fell asleep!”

The entire ride home your friend felt like something was watching them. In a state of paranoia, they had to make sure the front door was locked four times. In the confines of their room, they allow themself to relax slightly. They crawl under the blankets, cocooning within them in a need for safety. After a while, the comfort melts away. They couldn’t get over the feeling that something was watching, and – they were right.

In the corner of their room, Baron stood in silence, eyes glowing in the dark. Their ceiling was lower than yours; giving him an even taller silhouette and making the room feel small. They couldn’t even bring themself to scream; a frightened whimper escaping their throat.

“W...what are you doing here?”

“Do you take me for a cuck?”

“Wha…?”

“I said….” He steps forward, the diagonal mouth on his face visible and baring teeth with a growl. His voice stays low, teetering on aggressive. “Do you think I’m a fucking cuck?”

“N-no… I don’t.”

“Then why the fuck are you trying to steal my mate?!” He slams his hands on the bed frame with an emphasis on the word “fuck", drawing another yelp from your friend.

“I don’t like them like that! I…. I thought you couldn’t be away from them!”

“That was just a lie I told them so we wouldn’t be apart. They’re mine.”

“Ok.. ok. Please just… don’t hurt me.”

Baron chuckles. “You’re pathetic. If you had been my master I would have rung your neck on the first day.”

In an act of rebellion, your friend speaks up. “Why do you even want them so badly in the first place.”

“With age comes different needs. They’re that need I’ve awaited to quench for thousands of years. Stay away from Y/n or I swear I’ll drag you to hell by your tongue.”

Baron slips back into the darkness, leaving them shaking in fear for their life.

“Huh… Not answering again.”

You set your phone on the table, ending the call before voice-mail message could play; knowing it was already full. You were on the couch once more; trapped to the cushions by Baron. His head rested on your lap, horns against you chest and legs dangling off the side; trying not to pull all his weight on you. You reluctantly let him stay there due to said weight. You had been trying to call your friend for the past few days with no luck, even showing up to their vacant home when you began to worry.

Baron opens both left eyes. “Maybe they’re on vacation. Or got eaten by a bear. Who knows, who cares.”

“Did you have something to do with this?”

He gasps. “Y/n, I am offended…. But if you order me to answer, then I’ll have no choice but to.”

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eldritch-spouse · 3 months

Note

Now I want something. I want admin to spank Morell.

I know a regular piglet wouldn't even make him flinch BUT ADMIN, Admin is enhanced with Krulu's strength. So Admin could make Morell moan for sure.

[Fem reader.]

TW: Dubious consent to no consent; Abusive spanking; Blood; Humiliation; Physical and mental abuse.

You're not sure why your Lord approved of this idea so readily.

You wouldn't even call it a proper punishment plan for Morell's latest minor infraction, it was more of a vaguely intrusive thought that surfaced in your mind. To bend the large, proud monster over your knee and have him lose some of that attitude.

Krulu immediately gave you the greenlight to do it, with some manner of glee even, somewhere between genuine anticipation and humor.

You've come to learn your higher seems to sometimes prefer humiliating punishments over the physically painful ones. It leaves a much bigger imprint on the soul than the marring of flesh, he tells you.

Who are you to question his absolute wisdom?

Besides, it'd be lying to say that you aren't looking forward to Morell's reaction. For as rowdy and assertive as he can be with his coworkers, the chef has always had immense respect for you, being one of the first to pipe down and get in line with new directives or goals. It's something you admire in him.

So, surely, he's not going to flip out now is he?

The kitchen is quiet. Sterilized even. You had the bobbles take care of it before leaving. Part of you considered doing this in the warehouse, in front of the pigs he'll have to look in the eyes when the time to slaughter them comes. But that's already too much sadism for a slap on the wrist measure, isn't it?

No. You'll do it in the kitchen, a much more intimate environment.

Sitting on one of the restaurant chairs you dragged inside, you're roughly in the center of the large room itself, next to the main chopping block, legs crossed. Sharpened eyes study the previous work of the bobbles under Morell's hold. His training is efficient, you'll give him that.

It's taking him a while to come back in. Fact of the matter is he's not even in this floor, most likely. That's part of the problem, how often he's leaving the restaurant for extended periods of time. A frown slowly graces your features, nails tapping rhythmically on the iron legs of the chair. Tsk tsk.

You're considering additional punishment methods for his extended work post abandonment when the telltale squeak of boots on tiles hits your ears. He's in a hurry.

The kitchen doors blast open, Morell puffs with physical exertion and looks scratched in several areas, bits of... Gravel? Rock? Cling to his arms and apron, which he dusts off rapidly, opening his mouth to presumably start barking orders at his team of workers, except- He finally gathers enough wit to notice his actual surroundings.

Squinting, frowning, then finally spotting you. There's a short, vapid blink before he reacts.

" M- Admin, miss! " The shroom greets, nodding respectably before quickly closing the doors behind his large figure.

The monster looks aggravated, guilty. He obviously knows you'd never like seeing him deviating during work hours. You're willing to bet he's gulping behind that thick pink scarf. Morell scratches at his forearm and impulsively keeps dusting himself off, waiting. " Can I get'cha anythin' ta eat? "

" Morell. " You smile, sarcasm all but dripping off your words. " Pleasure seeing you here, for once. "

The mushrooms monster's hands rise immediately in a sort of placation attempt almost unbecoming of his large stature. " Ah know- I know it looks bad, miss, but it ain't like ah'm leavin' the floor ta screw 'round- "

" Did I ask for excuses? " You cut in.

Morell pipes down instantly. " No ma'am, ah'm sorry. "

And this is why he stands out to you. His obedience to authority figures. Morell has always been the kind of monster man who doesn't just bend for others at a whim. He's a stubborn bull of a guy, and all that's missing are the horns to furnish him. When with his coworkers, the shroom is rough and brutish, shooting them down the moment they attempt to mess with him, getting loud, in their faces, threatening them whenever they think they know better. When you first hired the chef, you wee already counting on having to use a sterner hand to keep him in line, and yet, since the very first day, he's regarded you with a courtesy and level of respect that's almost strikingly out of character compared to other sides of him.

Krulu shared this initial wonder too, finding it amusing that the shroom adapted extremely quickly to the roles he should play before you and your Lord. He knows better than to oppose you, sides with you, is very cooperative and available. Commendable qualities.

" I've always liked that about you. "

" ... Beg pardon? "

" How polite you are, without even having to be taught better. " Something you can't say for all.

In spite of the flattery, the chef doesn't relax. " Thank you, ma'am. "

Funnily enough, his accent sometimes takes a backseat in these moments too. Maybe because he's trying to speak like you? You could pick him apart all day, honestly.

" I don't want your apologies, I want you to know your punishment. "

He looks like he wants to desperately say something. Explain the situation, say that he's not at fault, that it can't be helped. You have an inkling of an idea of what might be wrong, more gargoyle shenanigans. Morell looks into your challenging hues and nods, bitterly swallowing any words. Fear flashes briefly in that dark canvas of a face.

It's not often he misbehaves enough to warrant punishments. The most he tends to get is a slap on the wrist for playing too much with the slaughter piglets.

" Of course, ma'am... "

Good boy.

" You're having issues dealing with the gargoyles again. "

Morell nods, hands over his chest and fingers tapping his elbows, the subject very quickly drawing a furious grimace from him.

" They're breaking in and taking meats, finished orders, body parts, sometimes even bobbles. "

Another nod.

" I would be angry too. But you know what I wouldn't do, Morell? Take it upon myself to go out there and hunt them down, when there's already someone who can do that, employed in these very grounds. "

The tapping turns into a tight grip.

" Why not come to Belo about this? A power such as him, who has wings to pursue them with flight, who holds a weapon capable of obliterating them with little effort, whose job is precisely to maintain order here. "

" Buh-! "

" Hush. " Your warning is heeded. " Don't step outside your role, Morell. Perhaps you have the strength to take one or two down, but your effectiveness lies here, in the restaurant. That- " You motion past the kitchen doors. " Does not concern you. "

He sighs quietly, rolling his shoulders. " You're right, ma'am. "

" Good. I'm glad we could get on the same page. " You grin, uncrossing your legs and patting a stocking clad thigh. " Now, for your punishment this time, I want you to bend over my knees. "

Oh. This is precious.

At first, the cook makes a face like he's certain he didn't really hear right, giving himself a few seconds to see if he can decipher what you really must have said. And then, slowly, it starts to sink in, the realization isn't the only thing that sinks however, that expression falling into a somber and wide-eyed look, questioning you. Wounded even.

And hat's how you know it's going to be effective.

" Ah... Come again? "

Oh, the hopelessness.

" You heard me, Morell. " There's no doubt he did.

Another few stunted seconds pass where he seems to be mourning his dignity, presumably. Your eyes glint with cruel anticipation.

" ... Do I hav'ta, miss? "

So polite. Adorable, even. He's smart enough to understand he doesn't really have a choice, somewhere between bargaining and pleading.

Suffocating the urge to giggle and kick your legs, you offer Morell an almost mocking solemn nod, as if it pained you too to be doing this. An open palm claps gently in your thigh, hurrying him.

The chef's face scrunches again, and if the skin directly under his cap weren't so dark, you would probably be able to spot the stress creases forming on his forehead. He shuts his eyes and takes a silent deep breath, reaching back to undo his apron. Morell takes his sweet time getting ready, and because he's been obedient thus far, you allow him those precious moments of peace. The desperation is such so that he even takes the time to fold his dirtied butcher's apron.

Finally, wearing only pants and boots, the monster stands before you, defeated before you've laid but a single finger upon him. Brilliant work.

" Knee. " You insist.

Slightly luminescent eyes scroll from his own massive figure to your much smaller one. " Ma'am... Ain't it gonna hurt? "

He knows better. He's seen better. The force and resilience bestowed upon you by your Lord knows hardly a limit. Morell could throw himself onto you, where as a normal human's bones would creak and shatter, you'd merely wonder how to best castigate him.

" I don't stutter, Morell. "

Boy, does that get him moving.

Somewhat awkwardly, the cook sinks to his knees. If his peculiar skin allowed it, you know he'd be covered in goosebumps when he angles himself across your legs. A tremor wracks his body, though you're quick to lower a hand on his broad back, encouraging the shroom to let his weight settle on your thighs.

A few seconds pass in that stillness. That delicious silence, the walls dripping anticipation and Morell radiating a level of mortification that has the spectator behind your eyes grinning with glee.

And then, as if gouging the right moment to lunge, you yank his pants and underwear down. The way Morell jumps could almost be compared to a frightened cat's leap, a tremor followed by this choked noise of embarrassment that all his coworkers would surely mock him over for eternity. The chef's rump perfectly fits his worked physique, yet there's an unmistakable softness there, an appealing shape, something Santi has openly admired before- To his own detriment, as such was quickly followed by a wooden spoon to the top of his head.

It's a nice ass, you'll admit. Shame he doesn't let anyone touch it.

Snickering at his panic, you soothingly rub a hand over his backside, feeling the give of his bizarre anatomy. Shroom monsters don't have the same type of skeletal structure humans do, their bodies are spongier in nature, yet by no means does that mean they're less sturdy. Humming peacefully, you take the time to squeeze over the spots that cover his blue hide, fondling the grown monster currently surrendered to you in thought.

Your forearm begins to sprout blackened veins, lovingly possessive growths that curl over your limb and encompass it, appropriate it. In a matter of seconds, Lord Krulu has transformed your hand into one of his, dark and deftly long fingers furnished with the claws of an apex predator. You raise it in the air with nothing but pride and adoration.

And oh, if Morell had any hope that your spankings would be tame, then it'd be a compliment to call him a fool.

Because when that same hand crashes down, the muted force of your god thunders across his entire body.

And he squeals.

Nicely done.

Both of you freeze. Your hand doesn't sting minimally, but the imprint immediately left on Morell's asscheek is a testament to the level of strength that was so effortlessly doled out.

No one moves for a second, the shock of that bizarre bleat being processed. You'd never guess a sizable monster like Morell could make such a noise, like a confused animal in pain.

The grin that crawls up your cheeks is sickening.

" What was that, Mori? Did one of your pigs escape? "

He's panting, quietly, but not subtly enough to miss.

" ... No. "

" No? "

" N-No miss. "

You snicker. " Alright, must have been my imagination. "

A tune is hummed serenely when your hand rises off his already overheated flesh, and the way the chef sucks in a desperate lungful of air is as riveting as it gets. But like Hell you'll give him the privilege of certainty, lowering said palm again with a deceitful gentleness, petting him, resting.

The next whack has spittle flying past grit teeth. He muffles part of the humiliating noise, at the cost of drooling on himself like a beast. Morell shivers atop you like a stuttering car engine. Krulu laughs.

" Honestly, I'm almost sad to be bruising a rump this pretty, Morell... " You muse, watching his cerulean hue steadily bleed into navy bruises that muddle his naturally glowing spots. " But it does make for an interesting sight. "

He stays quiet, and, in retaliation, you let that very same hand wander a little. Krulu's features recede to allow your human softness to brush over his skin, moving between the chef's legs. Instantly, there's a sudden tension in his entire body, more so than when he feared the spanking, and although you only teasingly feather over his asshole, Morell squirms in endless discomfort as if you had stuck pins and needles on him. Pressure against his perineum rips a grunt out of him, though reaching past the butcher's balls reveals the expected, he's entirely limp.

Something easily fixed.

" Part your legs a little. "

The shroom monster gulps, voice only a tad hoarse. " Admin, miss... "

Be it with the sharpest claws or bluntest nails, most men don't enjoy having their family jewels crushed. " Part. Your. Legs. "

He does, arms flexing in suffering until you relent. You don't need to warn him not to make you repeat yourself again. His reward is a much softer grasp around his manhood. And, with no pain to distract him, it's easy to get Morell to twitch in response, even if his fear is still palpable.

You stroke him until he hardens in your hand, something easy to achieve considering this sick fuck loves making his terrified little piggies worship his cock before he guts them into a dish. There's nothing like a human's touch to many of the workers here, and he's no exception. You can't help lick your lips when he starts silently rocking the slightest amount into your motions, soft sighs leaving his slowly relaxing form. Goading him further into this state of mindless pleasure, you offer him slightly faster friction, until he's properly bucking into your hand, ruffling groans of enjoyment.

He could never have spotted the spare arm sprouting from your back, could never see its dark length extend in the air-

Before it slammed down with enough force to rattle the skeleton out of anyone.

" HHHRK- "

You laugh, loud and jovial, this childish cackle ringing through the kitchen at your Master's impatient and cruel swat. Poor little Morell jolts and groans openly, the growing wave of pleasure interrupted and now intermingled with shock. His confused mind struggles to process the difference between pleasure and pain, lumping both together in a way that has him throbbing.

He seems to still at his own body's response.

Perfection.

You don't cease pumping his cock when the third arm lifts again, forcing the chef to experience both extremes of sensation when he's spanked again. He spasms uselessly, you bet his eyes are bulging by now.

Time to force him to think.

Whack

" What area of The Clergy's Eye have you been assigned to? "

" Tha- Kitchen! " He struggles, huffing.

Whack

" Where shall you stay when working then? "

More confused twitching in your hand. " Kh- Kitchen! "

SMACK

" Are you going to leave it again to do things that don't concern your station? "

" NnNO! "

The pace of your hand quickens, yet so does the your Master's rightful penance. Morell's bruised, indigo-tinted behind starts blooming into shades of abused purple. Tattoos of Krulu's divine hand furnish it nicely. You have no doubt this monster will sleep on his stomach for the following week.

Thwack thwack THWACK

" Will I have to do this again, Morell? "

He sobs, a real ugly sob that he quickly tries to suck back in, making you swiftly lean down to spot... Ah, the first few tears falling on the tiles. Good.

" No- No please- " And yet he still leaks precum like a faucet. What's going through that head right now?

Pleasure, pain, fear, regret, shame that reaches the skies.

Your Lord generously offers.

" You learn fast, I'm sure I won't have to discipline you again, right? "

The chef shakes like a leaf, yet there's no denying he's close to orgasm. His legs flex from more than just pain now. " Y- Yes, ma'am! "

CRACK

" Though I'd say you're enjoying it if I didn't know better. "

He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a blubbered wail. " No- 'M not, please- " It's the most pathetic thing you've ever heard coming from him.

" Mhm, okay then, I believe you. "

The next set of unrelenting spanks makes even you cringe, Krulu's force jostling not just the fully grown monster but yourself as well. It's actually a little exciting to witness. Spots where Krulu's claws intentionally caught onto the tender flesh turn into depraved welts, droplets of blood flying out with each merciless motion, spraying the snow-tiled ground and even yourself.

Morell screams, wails, shrieks like his arms are getting ripped out their sockets. It's a symphony of panicking pain that hardly lets him breathe in between each tormenting snap and quick pump. He makes the mistake of sucking too much air into his lungs at a time, then starts coughing and hiccupping hopelessly.

The moment your Lord halts is when your fervent motions take the stage, and Morell, tortured, oversensitive and disoriented, lasts less than five seconds before throbbing hard and shooting ropes all over your fingers. You pump his cock throughout the entire orgasm, milking it, making a mess that you then wipe on the inside of his thigh, letting his cum-soaked length rest.

Another pause stretches for a long few moments where everyone is winding down. And, as adrenaline seeps out the mushroom monster's pores, he breaks.

Totally limp upon you, Morell attempts to fruitlessly hide his face behind broad arms while his sniffling and gasping escalates into the most defeated, utterly humiliated sobbing there is. He struggles with breathing properly, scratching his own throat as tears splatter steadily on the ground, keening whines bubbling out of the still shaking man. In his despair, he tries to huddle closer to you, tries to fold himself into a ball even with your legs in the way.

You don't know if it's your Lord's enjoyment or your own, but the view sends a pulse of arousal straight up your cunt, cheeks heating.

" There there... " You murmur, rubbing a comparatively cool hand around the edges of his punished skin. The way he tenses and tries to push his sobbing behind a tightened jaw is adorable. " It's all over now. "

The trembling doesn't stop, but the butcher manages to quiet his own wailing within a few minutes. Tears still drip onto the ground.

A few taps get him to move off your legs, but Morell quickly finds out changing positions is torturous, sharp burning stings eliciting choked grunts and heaves from the monster. He settles, embarrassingly, for laying almost on his stomach, prostrated before you on the ground.

Grinning, so wet you can feel your panties soaking, you push the chair away and sit on the ground next to the recovering monster, pulling his face onto your lap and petting that large cap of his.

Morell chokes, clinging onto your clothes. You didn't think he'd break this hard, but it's a lovely reaction.

" 'M sorry... 'M-... Sorry... "

And, as you study his sorry state, you can't help but smile warmly. Bruised ass darker than night, blood still spilling, half-hard cum-coated dick out, arms and face wet with tears, grasping onto you for dear life...

You wouldn't mind doing this more often.

#Morell oc #mellsfern #terato #monsterfucker #terato tag #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster x human #not sfw #minors dni

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actuallysaiyan · 1 month

Text

Ecstasy Has Meaning Again(Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, size kink, belly/tummy bulge kink, Kenpachi is fucking HUGE, some mentions of sparring, squirting, unprotected sex

word count: 1.3k

pairings: Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Reader

summary: you asked to be Kenpachi's sparring partner, and while you two did spar, he had another...technique in mind.

a/n: for the lovely Vero(@yeowangies) <3

You’re panting and gasping for air as you throw your hands up in defeat. There was absolutely no way you’d be able to beat Kenpachi, but you had no intentions of beating him. You had only wanted to spar with him to improve your own skills in battle.

“S’that all you got?!” Kenpachi hollers before he approaches you. His hand extends to help you up.

“Y-yeah, that's all I’ve got.”

You look down in shame, but you still take the help to stand up. Your legs feel like jelly as you try to walk away, but his strong grip on your wrist helps steady you. He smirks as he looks at you, eyeing you up and down.

“You’re stronger than you let on,” he praises you, which comes as a surprise.

“You think so?!” You ask, your heart racing.

He smirks at you, and you can see the fire in his eyes. He doesn’t just tell anyone that they are strong, so you know you’ve got to believe it. Kenpachi purposefully approaches the strong so he can fight them. You’ve heard all kinds of crazy stories about this man.

“I think so. But there is another technique we can try,”

There’s a glint in his eyes that’s new to you. It’s a mischievous one that you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen in his eyes before. You’re wondering what he has in mind, but to learn any kind of technique from Kenpachi is an honor. So you accept to learn something else from him without really knowing what it is.

“Follow me, little one.”

When you asked Kenpachi to be his sparring partner, you had no idea it would end up like this…

“Hold your legs open for me, little one.” Kenpachi asserts, his voice is commanding and authoritative.

You whine as you try to hide yourself. He somehow got you on a bed, clothes strewn about the room and your glistening cunt on display for him. Though you aren’t a virgin, you’ve just never had too many partners leaving you a bit more on the inexperienced side.

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had a woman like you naked for me?” Kenpachi asks, leaning in to press soft kisses on your neck. “It’s been much too long. When you ask to be my sparring partner today…”

You squeal when he bites down on the tender flesh of your neck. Your hands come flying up, fingers burying themselves into his spiky hair to keep you grounded.

“Mmm I knew I had to get a taste.” He laughs, eyeballing you as he pulls away.

Then before you know it, he’s got both of his large hands pushing against the backs of your thighs and he begins lapping at you. His tongue is so warm and velvety, you’re beginning to gush on it already. You’re letting out the most pathetic mewls and whimpers; Kenpachi grows more and more turned on as he listens to you.

“I just knew you tasted sweet,” he grunts between long, languid licks.

Your eyes roll back in your skull and you desperately try to hump his face as he sucks on your clit. Another pathetic mewl escapes you as one of his long fingers slips into you. His eyes are so dark with lust as his gaze snaps up to watch your cute little reactions to all of this. You’re acting like you’ve never had your pussy licked before, and it’s so sexy for him to be able to witness this.

“Making my cock so hard,”

You whine pathetically again, and Kenpachi laughs before leaning back in to suck on your clit. His finger bullies its way into you, stretching you out. Even just his finger is so thick, and he curls it against your sweet spot with expertise. It’s like he knows exactly how to work your body and you can feel the coil in your tummy already about to snap. You clench the sheets below you in your fists, tears begin to sting your eyes from the intense pleasure.

“Ken–Kenpachi! I’m gonna cum!”

But before the dam breaks and you have your orgasm, Kenpachi is pulling away completely. He sucks the juices off his fingers, enjoying the way you still taste so sweet even on his skin. He’s looking at you like you’re a piece of meat and he’s a wild beast who’s hungry.

“No, no…this isn’t the technique.”

He then pulls off his clothes. Your eyes widen when you catch a glimpse at the heavy cock that hangs between his legs. How was that even going to fit inside of you? Your cunt continues to clench and pulse in protest from being edged like that, but the excitement of being stretched by such a monster cock was making you even more aroused.

He grasps his big cock, slapping it against your swollen clit. You let out a cute little moan, making him twitch against you. Then Kenpachi leans in to kiss you hungrily, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

“You drive me wild, woman.” He purrs, his voice taking on such a husky and gravelly tone.

You feel just how girthy he is while he slides his erection up and down your wet folds. He teases you a few times; pressing his cock to your hole and sliding just a bit in before pulling out completely.

“Kenpachi, please!” you beg, which makes him chuckle darkly again.

“Oh how I love the sound of that!”

He spreads your legs further and you watch as he spits onto your already soaked cunt. Your eyes are wide open as he slides that monster cock into you, having to stop halfway because you’re begging him to slow down. It’s only halfway in but you can feel him already in your tummy. It’s so big, so long. You knew it would be, but you could never properly imagine just how much this would be.

“Such a tight little pussy,” he teases you. Your cheeks heat up as you look up at him. He looks like he could eat you up.

With determination written all over his face, he begins rocking his hips and driving his cock into you even further. The minute he’s bottomed out, you swear you see stars. You’re drooling at this point, your brain is mush from taking this much cock. His tip is pressed against your cervix, and you place a hand on your tummy.

“Yes,” Kenpachi goads you on. “I’m that deep inside you.”

He thrusts gently a few times, and without warning, your orgasm comes crashing down on you. You cry out, your legs shaking and trembling as you begin soaking him in your juices. Kenpachi’s eyes widen, a wicked smirk on his face as he realizes what’s just happened.

“You just came? Just from…that?” He asks you, leaning in to shield you with his big body.

“Your…your cock’s so big.”

He begins to laugh again, and then he grips your thighs so they are stuck together and leaning against his chest. His hips begin smacking against your ass as he fucks into you harder and deeper, wanting more of your juices to coat him.

As Kenpachi ruts into you like an animal in heat, you desperately try to hold on. The way his cockhead keeps bumping against your sweet spot has you cumming over and over, soaking his big broad frame. The more you cum, the dumber you get. You can barely keep your eyes open when you hear him grunting and warning you he’s about to cum.

Ropes of thick, hot cum begin to coat your insides. It’s so much of it, it begins to leak out of you. Your belly is a bit distended from being so full of cum. You’re sure he’s going to give you a break now. But you’re so wrong. He begins rutting into you even harder and deeper now.

“Now, now…did you really think the training session was over?”

#bacon.writes #kenpachi x reader #kenpachi x you #kenpachi x y/n #kenpachi smut #kenpachi zaraki smut #kenpachi zaraki x you #kenpachi zaraki x reader #bleach #bleach x reader

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