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embossross · 2 years

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A Labor of Love

part of the In the Belly of the Beast fic universe

✣ Pairing: Kakucho x AFAB fem!Reader; +Mikey/reader; Ran/reader; Rindou/reader; Sanzu/reader; Mochi/reader

✣ Warning: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI

✣ Synopsis: You want your relationship with Kakucho to work, enough that you’re willing to sacrifice something precious to you to his colleagues. Your body. Or BONTEN GANGBANG (fun time is had by all)

✣ Series: stand alone; part of the In the Belly of the Beast fic universe

✣ TWs: Dubious consent (active consent given but some coercive context, boundary pushing & reader is rolling throughout); drug use; GANGBANG – double penetration, ptv, pta, blowjobs (+rough), CHOKING (dubious consent), degradation, praise, cucking (sorta), rough sex, double penetration, filming.

✣ Word Count: ~10k

The day Kakucho walked into your gym, you had a black eye and a recently ruptured spleen. Your coach told you to throw a fight, and enraged, humiliated, heartbroken…you did. The bitch could have at least pulled that last body shot to spare your fucking ribs.

But those were just the breaks when you battled in the merciless rings of underground MMA.

All that to say, you noticed Kakucho immediately for looking even worse for wear than you did that day. The pale, angry scar that started in his hairline and cut a jagged path through the corner of his glassy eye drew the eye of everyone he passed, but on that day, it was exaggerated and worsened by the swollen lip, the angry red fingerprints like a collar on his neck, the limp. Looked like he had lost a fight, too.

You shared a look of mutual understanding. The look said that you had lost, had hurt, but you were back on your feet again.

Kakucho came by your gym a lot after that day, watching the fighters as they practiced their footwork or sparred their gym mates, as if you were all prized roosters. After a few weeks, he started hitting the machines himself. You remember double-checking his numbers on the leg press, unable to believe anyone but a giant could move that much weight.

Eventually, you got to talking. Nothing crazy at first, just an ask for the occasional spot or comment on your form in a practice match.

He loved the sport, you realized, and soon you were talking for thirty minutes at a time about the Rizin FF and the international leagues. You thought he would have made a hell of a mid-weight champ himself if he ever thought to get in the ring.

(He definitely had the abs for it.)

There was always something shady about Kakucho. Your coaches were too deferential to him when normally they chased groupies out of the gym. When he would leave the gym at the same time, you would spot at least four guys just waiting for him out on the curb, like an unwelcome entourage. Despite never joining in the practice spars, he sometimes showed up with bloody knuckles.

You knew he was shady. And, yet, when he asked you to grab a beer, you said yes. Maybe if he didn’t look so fucking good with his shirt off and sweat pooling in the creases of his abs, you would have told him to fuck off.

You got that beer, and then the next. And then, you were giving him a key to your rathole of an apartment, and he was buying you a new mattress after breaking the previous one.

You fucking love him.

Learning the truth behind his suspicious background didn’t do much to diminish that love. Yeah, it was fucking infuriating to learn that he was part of the Bonten – the organization that sometimes demanded you throw your matches or break a kneecap for the betrayal – but that wasn’t Kakucho’s fault per se. Pretty quickly after you sucked his dick for the first time, you were told you would win your next match. You haven’t been asked to throw one in the months since either.

So, you love him, and the love is turning you into an ooey, gooey cherry pie of a woman. Love makes you wait up for a text from him before you can fall asleep, to shave your legs, to spill your guts about your estrangement from your family back in Fukushima and let Kakucho stroke your neck as you cry.

In return, Kakucho has proven a near perfect boyfriend. He doesn’t scare off the guys you work with at the gym, brings you protein shakes after workouts, and shares his own harsh past as just another Tokyo orphan.

The only obstacle to your love story – and man, you could punch yourself for even thinking the words ‘love story’ – is that you don’t know a thing about what he does in the day. Your relationship exists within the limits of the gym and your apartment. His life outside those sanctuaries is a mystery to you.

He can’t tell you even vague details about his work in Bonten because you are uninitiated, and the knowledge could cost your life.

You did not leave behind a farm and six betrayed siblings to move to Tokyo with nothing but a dream because you are a cautious person. You want to know your boyfriend, your lover, and that just means you need to get initiated.

Fresh from the shower, Kakucho joins you in the locker room. A few words and a flick of the lock, and you are alone. You recently cut almost all your hair off – an undercut is less bother in the ring – so you don’t bother with a towel, little droplets spilling out onto your clavicles as you dress. Kakucho stands to the side, shifting his weight around, watching as you change.

“We can just forget about this whole thing,” Kakucho says.

You scowl at him as you lace up your boots. “Fuck that. Either I get read into your little gang or we break up. I’m done with this secretive shit. Never know where you are or who you’re with. It’s driving me crazy!”

“Even if you get in, there’ll still be secrets,” Kakucho protests.

A week of arguing, and he is still trying to change your mind. When he gets on this, you just tune him out. You developed a neat skill during your years of exercise; you can play a song in your head and hear it as clearly as if it blasted through your headphones. Internally, you listen to the square synth leading into a Gurugamesh headbanger as Kakucho whines about why this is a bad idea.

“I’m going home. If you don’t initiate me, I’m dumping you. If you are, come home with me, and I’ll ride your cock until you cry. Hell, I’ll even share my dinner. I’m making chicken,” you say, cutting him off. Bag packed, there is no reason to linger.

Kakucho sighs. “I want to initiate you. I just…we have to talk about what that means.”

“Ok, tell me.”

You sit down on a bench and gesture for Kakucho to do the same. He stays standing. He looks angry, but that is just Kakucho’s face. Hard to say how he feels.

“There are usually two ways for new guys to get initiated,” Kakucho says through gritted teeth. “We have to be careful, babe. We have to be sure that we aren’t sharing intel on our activities with undercovers. That means we have to have a trial of sorts that no undercover would ever pass.”

Made sense so far.

“The first option is…shit, I’ll just come out and say it. You would need to kill someone. And we’d need to tape it.”

The walls of the room pulse, shrink in close, until you are bracing your fist against the wooden bench for support. You knew what he did, and yet…

“I can’t do that, Kakucho!”

“I know. I know. I’m not asking you to do that,” Kakucho reassures you. He moves forward, palms wide as if you are a bucking horse in need of a gentle touch. “I’m just telling you your choices.”

“Well, that’s fucked,” you hiss.

You are no saint. You have stolen from people who have been generous to you, wronged your family, hell, for enough money, you might break a man’s legs in four places. But to murder someone? Your worst enemy walked away from you with nothing worse than a bruised rib and a bloody nose. You are not a killer.

“I know it’s fucked. But, undercovers can’t kill a person even with clearance, so that’s how we can be sure an initiate is not a narc. And, then, we can hold the video over them if they ever try to turn,” Kakucho explains. “But there are other options.”

“Well, what’s option two?”

You are immediately nervous when Kakucho shoves his hands guiltily into the pockets of his too expensive jeans. What could be worse than murder?

“For some guys, they submit to a public beating,” Kakucho says.

“That one! I choose that one!”

There are MMA fighters with better technique, more versatility, more power behind their punches. But, there are none who can take a beating better than you. Every time you fall in the ring, you grind your teeth through the pain and pull through, keep punching. A little beat down would be just another Wednesday to you.

Kakucho shakes his head, though.

“No, you don’t understand. I don’t mean a couple punches. I mean, ten guys beating you for a half hour. Almost no one chooses this option because it means hospital for a month at least.”

“I’m not afraid,” you argue. “And it’s not like I can kill someone!”

“I could not stand there and watch them beat the shit out of you,” Kakucho growls, and you realize he really would kill his own subordinates before withstanding that. “Besides, you might never fight again after a beating like that. You can’t just throw away your dreams.”

Is this what your father meant when he would caution about the devil tempting you into the fall? You always scoffed at his arrogant ministries, running through your family’s fields to escape from being shipped off to church on Sundays. Yet, here, your boyfriend stands, putting a price on the last piece of morality you have left. Your dreams or your soul?

Because you do dream. Dream of leaving Bonten’s fixed fights for a couple hundred degenerates and making your way through the Shooto league, getting some mainstream attention, and then, ultimately debuting in the Rizin FF. Just to fight in that league! You don’t even dare to dream of then winning the Women’s Super Atomic Championship, of overtaking Ayaka Hamasaki. Don’t dare to dream of it, yet you’ve practiced your victory speech in the shower.

These are pipe dreams for a country girl, but in the last few months, with Kakucho’s support and connections, they have started to feel a little closer.

“I ca-can’t kill someone,” you repeat shakily.

“I know,” Kakucho says, this time disappointed. “Which is why, for you, we have to talk about option three.”

“I thought there were only two?”

“Normally there are, but you are a woman…”

“Go on,” you say tightly. If Kakucho is not careful with what he says next, you are going to punch him in the mouth. Bonten has good dental.

“Because I’m so high in the organization, it would just be the top execs. But uh…shit, this is hard. It would be a one-time thing, ok. Just the once. They would just uh, fuck you, and then it would be done.”

Yeah, you are going to kick his teeth out.

Sensing the rising violence in your tensed muscles, Kakucho takes a few hurried steps back and adds, “It’s not like this is my idea or even Bonten’s. This is just standard practice in most syndicates. Undercovers won’t submit to being–”

“Gang raped?” you bite out.

“It wouldn’t be rape,” Kakucho says. “It would be your decision.”

His shoulders deflate, all helpless. You remember why you are discussing this in the first place. Kakucho has done everything he can to warn you away from this path, but you declared you would not stay in a relationship separated by secrets. This is your choice. Not his fault – not his job – to protect you from your own choices.

If you love this man, you will consider this.

“How many men are we talking about?” you ask.

“Um, seven guys other than me,” Kakucho says, and you whip your head up in shock. Seven! “But, uh, not all of them will do it, probably. Takeokmi and Kokonoi don’t cheat on their girls, and Mikey and Sanzu usually just watch.”

“Usually? How often do you do this?”

“Not often,” Kakucho rushes to say. “I just know these guys.”

“So, three guys…wait, you said Takeomi. Do I know these guys?”

“Err, yeah, some of them. You met Mochi before…”

The blonde guy with the resting bitch face. You remember him. Kakucho took you to watch an official match once, and the VIP section was filled with his buddies. You sat beside Kakucho, and on his other side sat Mochi, and not one, but two pretty pieces of arm candy he brought to seemingly ignore the match in favor of their phones. You didn’t much like the guy, but you got a little soft hearted seeing how Kakucho smiled and cracked dumb jokes with his old friend.

“How am I supposed to face these guys again – your friends – if they fuck me?” you ask.

“You wouldn’t be the first girlfriend to choose this. They’ll be understanding,” Kakucho says.

“Who else?”

“You met him, too – Benkei – his fiancé did it. Everyone’s real nice to her still. And, Benkei didn’t see her any differently…after,” Kakucho stumbles.

He has never been good with words, but you think the struggle this time is not him but the limitations of the Japanese language. No earthly language was built for this kind of proposition.

You for one don’t say anything.

Kneeling, Kakucho takes your hand in his. It puts him below you for once, when normally he towers above you. A humbling.

“It doesn’t have to be bad. It could maybe even be good. I mean, I can give you some pills that make you feel really good, so you’re almost not even there. Then, it’ll just be an hour, where you have to do what you’re told. And, I’ll be there the entire time to hold your hand through it or whatever you need. They aren’t bad guys, or well, they are, but not when it comes to this. They can make it good for you.”

Bile fills your mouth. You have to swallow to ask your next question, and it burns.

“How can you ask me to do this?”

And here, now, Kakucho looks at you and despite his harsh black eyebrows and menacing scar, he looks like a scared boy. The little orphan boy afraid to be left alone in the dark.

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”

You curl your fingers through his, cling onto the strength of him. You really don’t want to lose him either.

---

Every bite of food and sip of drink in the past twelve hours was a mistake. Your stomach gurgles and turns over threateningly with each step toward your fate.

True to his word, Kakucho has done everything he could to prepare you for this encounter. All day you limped around with an anal plug in case someone decided to use that hole. The afternoon was spent teetering on the edge as Kakucho worked your pussy up over and over. Under normal circumstances, you’d strangle him, but it had the desired effect of leaving you wanting and achy.

Your holes are prepped. Thoroughly. Mentally, you feel less fortified.

Half an hour earlier, you took a few pills of molly and Xanax, but you swear you don’t feel the side effects. You are just as nervous now as ever.

Safe Heaven – you scoff at the cheesy name – appears to be a gentleman’s club. Red satin couch cushions, a well-stocked bar, and well-dressed patrons greet you and Kakucho when you first enter. Women exist to serve here, strutting around on sky-high platform heels or twirling around a pole on the center stage.

Kakucho leads you further inside with a hand pressed to the small of your back. He whispers in your ear as you walk that the club is one of many that belongs to Bonten but is special as a regular base of operations for its senior executives.

You trip a little as you enter a massive office. Said senior executives are already there. Waiting.

A sectional couch, built into the wall itself, wraps around two sides of the room. Against another is a large desk, stacked with paperwork, a TV mounted beside it and turned to the local news. There is a bar cart and a rack of designer suits. The walls are decorated in paintings. You are no critic, but you can tell they are expensive, rare. They, along with the furniture, clearly reflect the taste of a single person, someone who favors gold brocade and violent bursts of color.

The top men of Bonten are seated on the sectional. They appear at ease with each other; some don’t even glance up when you stumble into the room at Kakucho’s side. Cigarette smoke clogs the air above their heads. It is oppressive.

“Close the door,” one of the men says.

You remember what Kakucho told you, that it is not enough to simply get fucked but you must also follow every order during your time in this place. You close the door.

Some of the men sprawled across the couch look less like yakuza than flashy account executives if you ignore the dyed hair and tattoos that peak through their suit jackets. Kakucho wears his upbringing on his face, always looking somewhat rugged even in designer jeans. You can simply tell he knows how to fight. These men are less intimidating, polished, even as their own scars stretch across their cheeks.

You recognize Mochi cuddled up with the women from the prize fight. The women’s respective blonde and pink dyed hair don’t stand out among this motley crew, but their scraps of clothing do. They are all tits and smooth stomach and ass, and in case you weren’t already looking, Mochi has a firm handful of each woman to make sure you don’t miss it.

By his side are Rindou and Ran – you think – and there, that must be Sanzu and Mikey. Kakucho drilled you on the various executives to prepare you for tonight, so you could at least put a name to the cock inside you at any given time. You have met Takeomi before in passing, which means the last man must be Kokonoi. As you assess them carefully, most of the men remain fixated on their phones or the TV news.

It is the single most awkward moment of your life.

You have never been one to crumble when things get weird. No, if anything, you get pissed.

“Well, I’m here. Are we going to fucking do this?” you bark.

“Everyone, this is [y/n],” Kakucho says, a proprietary hand on your shoulder. Now, every head turns to you, which is frankly better than being ignored.

Takeomi rises from the couch. “Well, that’s my cue to leave. Sanzu, I’ll send you the details on the Tsumigumi thing tomorrow.”

Sanzu scowls. “Shut it! There are outsiders listening.”

A genuine smile as Takeomi regards you. “Not for long.” He shakes Kakucho’s hand and then, oddly, yours. “We should have dinner sometime. I’d love to get to know you better.”

It’s a nice offer, like you are just the girlfriend of a friend and not about to get dicked down by a room of men. Still, you watch him go with relief. One down, six left.

Kokonoi is about to follow Takeomi out of the room when a voice stops him.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Sanzu says.

“Back to the office. NASDAQ is going to open soon.”

“Oh, I bet that’s the only reason,” the man called Rindou snickers.

“Yeah, okay, and what of it? Yumi will have my balls if I stay here,” Kokonoi protests. “I know your girl is sweet and understanding, but mine is not. She will kill me.”

“Yumi will remember who she works for,” Mikey says.

With Mikey in the center of the sectional and his men spread out beside him, he looks like a perversion of the Jesus in the Last Supper. He is a wraith, so thin in a black tee shirt that swallows him whole, dead eyes, deader black circles under them. A talking corpse.

A few words and you know he is the leader. Kokonoi does not argue back, immediately looks to Mikey for permission instead. Permission that Mikey does not grant.

“Sit down,” he says coldly.

Defeated, Kokonoi does, but he continues to look to Mikey with pleading eyes. “I was exaggerating about Yumi. She would understand, Mikey. But I would prefer to get back to work.”

Mikey is unmoved, and you think the night is about to get very weird if one of these men wants nothing to do with you, but then, he shrugs. “We need someone to hold the camera. Just watch.”

Kokonoi is as excited about your porn debut as you are, but he gladly sits down on the far side of the couch and pulls out his phone. Gonzo-style camera phone porn? Great.

Two down, five left.

None of the other men throw a fit about having to fuck you, but they don’t look particularly eager to jump you either. The situation is so fucked, but you are actually feeling insecure as they size you up.

Femininity is a sore subject. Never soft or pretty enough for your traditional family. Overlooked by guys for your three sisters, who all worried about their clothes and practiced giggling in the mirror. Your idea of dressing up for a date is jeans and washing your hair.

These ageless insecurities disappeared with Kakucho. Even standing drenched in sweat after a workout, a bruise purpling your chin, he has never made you feel anything less than beautiful.

These men are different.

The two women dangling off Mochi are what you imagine they would prefer. Smiley, smokey-eyed, lips and tits so pert they can’t be natural. At Kakucho’s suggestion, you actually tried to dress up a little, donning what constitutes a face-full of makeup by your standards, a little effort at appealing to these men, and still they barely look.

You expected humiliation tonight, but not this. It’s infuriating! These dickheads should be salivating at the thought of your pussy!

“Would you like a drink?” Ran offers, striding towards the bar cart. The acknowledgement is a relief, and you thankfully begin to accept.

“She can’t. She’s rolling,” Kakucho interrupts.

Ran nods to him, your drink forgotten, and then at the two women with Mochi. “Girls, why don’t you hit the floor? Mochi will be done in an hour.”

“Yes, Mr. Haitani,” they intone.

A whiff of strong perfume assaults you as they breeze past. You are wildly jealous as they leave the room behind and the door closes for good, trapping you with these men.

“My name is Ran,” the tall man says, and you realize he is going to be the leader in what happens next. “Why don’t you take your clothes off? Give us a little show. Okay, baby?”

Ran stands off to the side to give you space and gestures for Kakucho to do the same. You immediately miss the warmth of him at your back, but you signed up for this. Time to be a big girl.

Moving to the center of the room, you strip. You kick off your sneakers and shimmy out of your skinny jeans. Most of the men are watching you now. Ran asked for a show, and you don’t want to pussy out already, so you turn around before bending over to strip off your socks. Every one of them should have a perfect view of your ass and covered pussy. The tee-shirt comes next, no bra today, so your tits bounce free immediately. Panties last, and then you are naked.

“Beautiful,” Ran purrs.

He moves close and strokes the skin of your arms. Your body reacts, each nerve delicate and primed. The molly is kicking in. The anxiety that should be shattering your psyche is trapped somewhere in the back of your brain, unable to harm you.

The long line of Ran’s body presses tight to your back. He is much slimmer than Kakucho, but just as tall. His fingers tickle a line along your neck. He blows a puff of hot air along the shell of your ear.

You remember suddenly how Kakucho described Ran – a lover of women, a man who liked women not just for their bodies but as people, as company. The kind of man that women recall fondly years after leaving his side. A great seducer.

Whether it’s Ran’s experience or the molly, your body happily embraces his attentions, and your thighs rub together in anticipation. You no longer question if you are attractive enough for the men in this room, not with Ran caressing you like a prized pet.

“Such a beautiful girl,” Ran repeats as his hands mold around your tits. He weighs them, pushing them together to create cleavage, and then releases, again and again.

Your eyes flutter closed, but you can see the men watching the shape of you as Ran toys with your body. Rindou bends forward, elbows to his knees in rapt attention. You recall that Kakucho said he is a big fan of MMA, has seen you fight before. A fan of sorts. Maybe someone you can look to for support during this ordeal?

An embarrassing moan escapes you when Ran pinches your nipples. Pleased, he does the same thing over and over again, until they are inflamed, and you are fucking furious at the teasing. You grind your ass back intentionally, dragging along Ran’s thighs and dick. He grunts, a hand flying to take your hips and guide your motions.

“Take your pants off,” you order.

Ran laughs. “Bossy!”

“She speaks her mind,” Kakucho says proudly, and you turn your head to share a smile with him.

You didn’t think you would be able to bear to look at him during this ordeal, but you don’t know why you were so worried. He is your Kakucho, even in these strange circumstances. There is no judgment or jealousy in his eyes. Even now, you can see he wants to protect you, but also knows you don’t need his protection in the first place. All of this is for him, and he is grateful.

A large hand bends you in half. Your gym routine involves daily intense stretching, so your pliant body happily follows the direction. Your tits press tight to your knees, and you grip your own ankles for support.

The pressure on your hips makes it difficult to maintain your balance even with hands holding you in place. You wonder what the others are doing, but you can’t see through the hair fallen over your face.

Hot, hard, and twitching, you groan at the feeling of Ran’s cock gliding through your pussy lips. It disappears for a moment, then you feel a glob of spit land on your exposed hole.

Seconds later, he pushes in.

He is gentle abut it, but the intrusion still startles a shriek from you. Your body feels too small to accept the cock bullying its way inside you. It’s the angle, but Ran doesn’t adjust to accommodate either of you. If anything, he likes it.

“So good, so fucking good,” Ran coos sweetly. He uses his grip on both your hips to start thrusting into your tight hole. You aren’t very wet, so there is a mild burn to each thrust at first, but Ran doesn’t let that stop him either. He keeps telling you how good you feel until your pussy lubricates, and then he fucks you harder.

“Ah, shit,” you gasp.

A groan. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” That is Kakucho, not Ran.

Kakucho who can’t take his eyes from your tensed thighs, from your shaking calves. Kakucho who loves you.

Euphoria makes your brain go a little hazy. So much easier to just focus on the sensation of a cock stretching your cunt, of how deep and powerful Kakucho sounds when he tells you he wants you.

“Ah, fuck, fuck, keep talking to her, Kakucho,” Ran moans obscenely. “She tightens up like you wouldn’t believe. Shit.”

“Oh, I believe it,” Kakucho obliges. “My girl has such a tight pussy, and she knows how to use it. My fierce, beautiful girl. Love you so fucking much. Love watching you get fucked, just because I love to see you fall apart for me.”

The shakes start in your strained thighs and spread in every direction. You can barely keep your balance. Every time Ran thrusts, you worry you are going to collapse, but that worry is practically nothing to you. Even the fiery stretch doesn’t really hurt. You feel so close to Kakucho even as you are broken open on another man’s cock.

Ah, but the stretch really does burn.

Your legs buckle and you start to fall.

Before you can collapse and possibly break Ran’s dick in the process, a hand covered in rings is there, scooping up both your legs. A moment of vertigo as you are manhandled, and then you are in a new position: full body suspended upright and backwards on Ran’s cock, legs spread wide as he bounces you up and down. It is Rindou who supports you with his hands under your ass as his brother continues to thrust up into you.

“There you go, slut. Take that cock all the way,” Rindou murmurs, eyes trained to where your pussy is spread open.

At first, he appears less handsome than his brother, but you realize that is an illusion. Both men are equally attractive, just Rindou’s good looks are easy to miss when he is slouched and tired-eyed and bored by everything. He doesn’t look bored now as he licks his own fingers and brings them to your aching clit.

Instantly, your body starts seizing. It is like the barest touch has returned you to the last edge Kakucho gave you that afternoon, when he tapped your clit with his tongue until you wailed and then left you wanting. Your arms flail a bit, and then you are gripping the short hairs at Ran’s neck in a death grip and clutching Rindou’s shoulder just as desperately.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”

“That’s it, slut, squeeze that cock,” Rindou hisses. “Cum all over that dick.”

“Good girl, good girl. Just keep taking it, just like that,” Ran groans.

“You look so fucking perfect. So fucking beautiful,” Kakucho calls.

All those voices singing your praises, the messy fingers on your clit, the fat cock drilling you, it is too much. You feel so connected to them all, so wanted, so full. You are cumming and you are cumming and you are cumming. Your whole body shakes, head whips back and forth wildly.

“Ah shit, I can’t –”

Ran pulls out of you abruptly, and you are falling, trembling, into Rindou’s supportive arms. Your feet touch the floor, but your legs are too weak to support you. Rindou’s solid chest is the only thing keeping you off the ground. Still, your pussy continues to spasm, and you pant at the brilliant aftershocks.

“Pretty girl! Got so tight you pushed me right out,” Ran laughs, hard dick in his hand.

There is a creak as Mochi rises from the couch. He straightens his suit jacket as he takes measured steps closer to your limp body. Knowing he is one of Kakucho’s closest friends, you were most nervous about him, but you can’t quite summon the care anymore. If anything, his angrily arched eyebrows are your biggest worry. He looks perpetually annoyed, and right now he’s looking at you.

“Want to try that mouth,” he says, speaking more to Rindou.

One of his meaty palms gropes your side, fondling a tit and pressing the soft flesh of your belly. Clipped short nails scrape a little pattern into your skin.

“Which hole you want, Rin?” Ran asks, returning to your back. He props his chin directly on the curve where your neck and shoulder meet. “You can choose whichever. I’ll make it work.”

Rindou groans. He runs a finger through the slippery lips of your pussy, and then, licks his finger clean.

After a long moment where he savors the taste, he grunts, “Can’t.”

“Oh, come on! You’re already here. What’s the harm?”

Through your haze, you think to yourself that there is a lot of peer pressure going on between the men of Bonten.

“It’s not cheating until I get my dick wet. I’ll pass,” Rindou insists. As he argues, he returns his fingers to your dripping hole and teases you open a little. You are still a little numb from the last orgasm, but the play is surprisingly gentle and nice. A little apology from Rindou for not using your properly.

“And whose convenient rule is that?” Mochi laughs.

“Yasuko’s,” Rindou says, defensive, definitive.

“Rindou can watch,” Mikey says from his seat on the couch.

And with that, the argument is over. Despite his victory, Rindou doesn’t retreat very far, lingering by your side. His definition of watch is quite…active.

“Why don’t you sit on my cock?” Ran suggests, breath tickling your ear.

He settles on the floor and spreads his legs in front of him. You see now that he never fully removed his pants, and the pinstriped monstrosity and his boxers scrunch at the knees. Your first eyeful of his cock is intimidating, not bigger than Kakucho, but longer, unfamiliar even if it was punching a hole in your gut only a minute earlier.

The three men all have hands on your body as they manhandle you into their preferred position, hovering over Ran’s cock and facing away towards the couch and your audience. You see Kakucho smile, and you wave at him like an idiot. He disappears from your sight as Mochi drops his dick into your line of vision. He is hairy and smells strongly, not bad, just strong. When you look up at him from this position, he looks like a giant.

Ran lifts your ass and hips high, so that you are level with Mochi’s groin and slides himself back inside your warm body from below. All you have to do is stay still and take it as his powerful hips thrust upwards.

You hum a little, relieved that this position will spare your aching clit for a while, relieved to be filled again.

There is still Mochi’s cock to contend with as he stands a bit to your left, and you don’t wait for some degrading order to take him in hand. The man shuffles forward so you can wrap your lips around the head of him. He isn’t fully had at first, but the seal of your lips quickly solves that.

The mildly salty taste is strangely delicious. You lap at the tip aggressively to earn more of it. A frantic flickering back and forth, and then a glob of spit right on the shaft, and your hand stroking the rest of him.

You hear a groan you recognize as Kakucho’s. “I love when you do that. Fuck.”

Mochi is less demonstrative in his appreciation, but he doesn’t try to instruct you, keeps his hands by his side as he peers down with those angry brown eyes. You match his gaze with a fury of your own and slurp your way up the side of him.

Somehow, proving your skills as a cock sucker has become a point of pride, and you barely think about the slow but steady thrusts into your body. They’re like a low hum of pleasure cheering you on, rather than a focal point. Tracing little patterns around the sensitive underside of Mochi’s cock takes all your concentration.

It feels like a victory when his eyes close on a sigh.

Your left side is suddenly crowded, and you pull off Mochi’s dick to see which man wants a piece of you now. Only, it is Kokonoi with his phone in your face. The angle captures the obscene stretch of your lips as they part to take cock, the fire in your eyes.

Furious, you flip the camera off.

In the tangle of limbs and hormones, you completely forgot that Kokonoi would be filming all of this. Maybe he has been filming the whole time. Only now he has invaded your debauchery, made himself obtrusive. He is unwelcome.

You open your mouth to tell whoever someday watches this video exactly what you think of them, but Mochi’s cock shoving back inside silences you. Rindou is there, holding your head down, forcing you to accept Mochi’s dick all the way to the back of your mouth. And the camera is there, too, centimeters from your face to capture it.

“There we go, just like that,” Mochi says quietly as Rindou draws you back by the hair. Spit connects you both even as you gasp for breath.

“Smile pretty for the camera, slut. Kakucho’s going to want to watch this later,” Rindou coos.

He forces your head back down again. Hard this time. So hard, that you cough around the intrusion. Your throat is a closed door, and Mochi’s cock a merciless battering ram against it. Tearing up, you forget all about the camera so close to your face.

“What the fuck, Kakucho? Never trained your girl’s throat before?” Rindou demands. No matter how hard he pushes, your throat does not budge, and you just choke uselessly.

Displeased by your pointless gagging, Rindou yanks your head back slightly, so Mochi’s cock lays heavy on your tongue but doesn’t choke you, and then he starts to push. Back and forth, fast and shallow on it. You can barely breathe. Your scalp stings from the not-so-gentle hair pulling. Slobber leaks from the side of your mouth. It’s better than gagging, but not by much.

“Ignore him,” Kakucho says, which is impossible when Rindou is treating you like a defective bobble head doll. “You suck my cock so good, babe.”

Well, that’s nice at least.

Your vision starts to go dotty as brain and blood slosh around your abused skull. Feeling the strength of these men, you know every one of them would be deadly in a fight. You have faith in your skills, maybe enough to survive them one-on-one, but the way they come together, relying on numbers to completely subdue you, it galls. And it frightens you just a little.

Helpless, you slap a hand on Mochi’s thigh in the hope he’ll ease up.

Rindou forces your head up and down a few more times as if to prove he can, hand gripping your chin and digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. Then, finally, he draws you back to waiting oxygen. Strands of messy hair fall in every direction, and you cough delicately a few times.

Pretty quickly, you are forced back under, though this time pointed to Mochi’s balls. This is something you can do, so you eagerly begin to lap and suck at them as Mochi jerks his own dick above your face.

“Not bad,” Mochi grunts. “Just try to look happier about it. I like a woman who looks happy in her place.”

You might have some choice words for that, but Ran speaks for you, “Oh, I’ll make her happy.”

The easy pace he has favored until now accelerates. His hips rise fast and hard to meet your raised ones. There is nowhere to escape with his hands holding your waist in place. The impact makes every soft bit of you jiggle. It also forces pathetic gasps from your lips as those hips grind so perfectly to ensure every one of your sweet spots is caressed.

“Fuck, look at that ass bounce,” Ran moans. “What a fucking view. Just beautiful.”

You decide you like Ran. It feels so nice to be complimented and wanted. Pleased you gurgle all over Mochi’s balls, bubbles of spit that you smear up the underside of his shaft with your nose. Now, he is moaning, too.

Someone pets your hair, and you glance to the side expecting Rindou, but it’s Kakucho. He’s risen from his seat for the first time to crouch beside you.

You are unprepared for the rush of love that expands your chest cavity. Your beautiful, caring man. Yours. You smile at him messily, and he smiles back.

“Think you can cum again, babe?” Kakucho asks in his deep growling voice.

Now that he mentions it…you can feel that little bubble of rising pleasure. Yeah, just there whenever Ran pierces through to your deepest parts. Each thrust is like a punch that knocks the air out of you and leaves you feeling a little lighter.

“Squeeze him tight. Hard as you can. Make it hurt to pull out of your hot cunt,” Kakucho orders.

“Assho–”

Ran descends into a muted mumble, his curse obliterated, as you obediently clench every muscle in your body. Your already tight pussy grips down like a submission hold around him. It makes it harder for him to thrust, so his cock lingers deep and heavy. It makes him feel bigger inside you.

You catch a glimpse of the camera as Kokonoi angles it over Mochi’s shoulder. You moan and gurgle around Mochi’s balls without a care in the world. The expression on your face is content, euphoric even, and you hold steady eye contact with the camera.

A smarting pinch to your nipple makes you gasp. There is Rindou to grope and squeeze with one hand as his other abuses his hard cock fast and rough.

All of these men around you, using you, pleasuring you. It’s too much. You start to cum again with pathetic little spasms of your hips and stomach.

You pop off Mochi’s balls so that you can screech and stammer through a litany of curses. “Fuck, yes, fuck, fuck. Harder, fuck me harder. Fuck!” A little slap to Ran’s lunging thighs to encourage him, and he speeds up even more.

You are filled with love and joy as you cum, like your body is made up of yellow light, a garden to grow and nurture every good feeling in the universe. You press pretty little kisses along Mochi’s tip to share this pleasure until he hisses and pulls away.

“Oh fuck, that’s it for me,” Mochi groans. A harsh yank of your hair, and he is cumming all over your face. The milky fluid smears across your cheeks and chin, some landing on your parted lips as you moan obscenely through your own orgasm.

“Sexy little girl,” Ran moans from beneath you.

His cock is gone seconds later, though his hands keep you firmly in place. You feel a stream of hot liquid splatter your back and then a second. Collapsing backwards finally, Ran drops your hips, and you fall backwards onto his prone body.

“Look at you making all the men cum. You are so fucking hot like this,” Kakucho praises from where he peers down at you.

“Yeah, slut can take a cock,” Rindou agrees. There is a sheen of sweat decorating his brown, intense concentration in his eyes.

It is odd, but you swear you can feel how desperately Rindou needs to cum. He has been so generous, to join you in this, to hold you steady and rub you to orgasm, when he himself can’t take any direct pleasure from you. You want to care for him in turn, wish you could do more, take his cock in hand or down your throat the way you know he likes.

“Cum all over me,” you urge, canting your hips up in invitation. “Cover me with it. Paint me white.” You mold your tits together in your hands to make an inviting cleavage, worry your lip provocatively.

Rindou jerks his cock faster, aiming down at your stomach. You are abruptly pushed aside as Ran, who has been lying beneath you, rolls out of the way. Bare and dirty on the floor, you pose your body until Rindou starts to grunt and his cum splatters down erratically. Some misses the mark, landing on the floor, but most collects in the pool of your naval and the divots of your hips.

Blissed out of your mind, you giggle up at the ceiling. Heartbeat thundering in your ears, you barely hear the sound of your own laughter. Your mouth is a bit dry, but that is the only complaint. Feels so good just to lie there, wet and satiated until your breathing slows.

Kakucho is there, too, sweetheart that he is. He sits on his butt, and strokes the ticklish skin of your inner arms, curls the short hairs at the nape of your neck, and peppers kisses through your hairline.

“You did so good, champ,” he says. “My fucking fighter. You did so good.”

You smile dreamily up at him. He is so lovely like this, pride in his milky white eye, love in his constant black eye. The juxtaposition and depth of his feeling as he regards you! This is how he looks at you after a fight. Never worried about the bruises that will heal in time but focused on your achievement.

“I love you so much, babe,” you murmur huskily.

“I love you, too.”

“Would do anything for you.”

“I know.”

Caught up in the depth of your love for each other, you could completely forget that there are still other men in the room, watching or cleaning up. That is, you could until someone calls out Kakucho’s name.

You turn your head and meet the fathomless eyes of Mikey, the leader. He is watching your interaction intensely. What is it you can see on his face? Boredom? Fury? Envy? You feel so close to Kakucho, to Rindou, to Mochi even, but Mikey feels like he lives on a separate planet.

“Clean her up, and then bring her here,” Mikey orders.

Kakucho stiffens a little, then nods. Glancing around, you see surprise on several faces. You scramble to follow what is happening, why Ran is now passing Kakucho a napkin from the bar cart, why Kakucho is wiping down your face and belly until you are almost clean again except for the sweat.

You stumble on shaky legs. If not for your experience taking punches and staying on two feet, you would probably collapse. Kakucho guides you over to the couch, over to Mikey.

Mikey sits in the center of the couch with Sanzu at his right-hand. The others are scattered around as well – Ran mopping his sweaty brow, Mochi checking his messages, and Rindou tucking his cock away – but all give Mikey a wide berth.

“Sit here,” Mikey says, patting his narrow knee. The man is smaller than the others, smaller than you even, but you feel the strength of his tensed thigh as you sit your bare ass there delicately. You try to keep some of your weight off him, coiled to flee. “You really love him?”

You look to where Kakucho hovers to the side, newly anxious. “Yes, I really love him.”

“And you would do anything for him?”

“Yes.”

Mikey nods. “Good. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

The whole exchange is bizarre, and you rise but are stopped by Mikey’s solid grip on your waist. The fingers of his free hand sweep between your thighs to play at the entrance of your pussy.

Kakucho said Mikey wouldn’t join in…

You are sucked deep into the vortex of Mikey’s gaze, unable to look away from how oddly colorless they are. He strikes you as the saddest boy in the world, and you want to kiss him. Beneath you, his hands are moving, but you don’t register much of anything. It is easy to be pliant in his hold, to drift off.

Until he drops you right onto his cock.

The sudden piercing against your cervix warrants a shriek of pain. He is so deep, too deep inside your swollen cunt, and you feel your walls trying to reject him. There is no room to slip away though, so you whimper instead, begging him for mercy with your eyes. Mikey ignores you.

Staring down at where you’re joined through blurry eyes, you see he didn’t even lower his pants, cock jutting out through the parted flaps at the top. No one has undressed for you tonight, but this is different; here, you feel more naked than ever before.

“Tell Kakucho how much you love him,” Mikey says tonelessly.

You start to turn your head, but Mikey grips your chin preventing you. It is while staring straight into Mikey’s empty eyes that you say, “Kakucho, baby, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he parrots back.

Despite everything, it feels nice. Just the sound of his voice brings you back to that euphoric place of peace. You squirm a little on the big cock inside you. It doesn’t feel half bad actually.

“Ride my cock. Hard. Hard as you love your boyfriend,” Mikey says.

The command paired with the impossible power of his stare has a hypnotic effect on your body. What he says simply makes sense. The harder and faster you buck your hips, the greater your love for Kakucho. He’ll be able to see it.

Confidently, you place your hands on Mikey’s waif-like shoulders for support. He doesn’t stop you as you put all your weight on him. Doesn’t stop you when you flex your powerful thighs to rise up high and then drop all that weight down again. A little umf of air escapes him at the impact. You are going to beat up his dick, and then Kakucho will know you really do love him.

Fast, fast, faster, you bounce up and down on the cock inside you. The feeling of it scraping your upper walls is fucking delicious, so good that it makes you bounce even harder, chasing more of that feeling. Your gummy walls are sore, and if you could catch sight of your face in a mirror, it would probably be split in a rictus of pain, but none of that matters when your clit catches against Mikey’s hard stomach.

The frantic bouncing in his lap puts your tits directly in Mikey’s line of vision, though he stays focused on your face. His tongue laps out and teases your nipples as they fly by impossibly fast. A hand gropes one and brings it more fully to his mouth. He sucks hard and mean.

It feels impossibly good. So good that you cry out, “I love you, Kakucho. Baby, I love you.”

Mikey smiles a little, toothy, and sucks harder. You keep calling out your love for your boyfriend. Your high is peaking, the room a little blurry as your eyes can’t adjust to your feverish movements. You are on fire, and you are glad to self-immolate.

Scooching across the couch comes Sanzu. His eyes keep flitting up and down to the cock swallowed up over and over again to…not your face but Mikey’s. Sanzu wasn’t supposed to want to join either, but apparently all of Kakucho’s predictions are out the window.

Looking at Sanzu is quite pleasant. He is like a cherry blossom in bloom, like bubble gum and strawberry candy with that pretty pink hair of his and the pretty pink scars that widen his also pretty pink mouth. Unable to resist your impulses, you card your fingers through his long bangs.

Lightning fast, Sanzu grasps your hand and pulls it away from his hair. Instead of pushing it away from him altogether, he brings the flat of your hand to lay across his throat. He presses your fingers to curl down around the edges of him.

“Squeeze,” he says, and then smiles brightly.

You hesitate, so Sanzu tightens his own fingers over yours until you submit to the momentum. As you use your free arm for leverage to keep up your murderous pace on Mikey’s cock, you choke Sanzu hard. Blood rushes beneath your fingers, a little fluttering.

“Not bad,” he rasps.

Then, Sanzu is wrapping both of his hands around your throat. You try to cry out a little in protest, but the noise withers to nothing as he squeezes down hard on your vocal chords. Most of the pressure is on the sides of your throat, restricting air but not denying it completely.

Your legs and pace stutter a little. It is difficult to continue to ride Mikey when a stranger has your throat – your life – in his hands. Two little swats that hardly hurt to your thighs from Mikey. He won’t accept second place. Even as air becomes sparser and tears enter your eyes, you force yourself to keep bouncing.

Sanzu smiles evilly.

Fuck that.

You adjust your grip on Sanzu’s throat to better cut-off blood flow and squeeze with all your strength. These fuckers forget who you are. You have years of experience with choke holds, the triangle, the guillotine, the gator roll. Maybe Sanzu is a killer, maybe he’s choked the life from a man’s eyes, who’s to say? But he is going to tap out first. You’ll make damn sure of it.

Your legs burn. Sweat slides between your breasts and down your sticky back. A gurgled moan echoes through Sanzu’s tightening hands. The lack of oxygen makes the strain worse. Worse yet delicious. Yes, like a tasty piece of namagashi fruit jelly melting on the tongue.

A crease appears between Sanzu’s eyebrows, concentration. Then, a starry faraway look enters his eyes. He looks like he’s the one rolling now. If you can just keep your body moving for a few minutes longer, keep going up and down, then he’ll…he’ll…

Red-faced and gasping, Sanzu knocks your arms away from his neck. Sanzu doesn’t cum, but he doesn’t reach for you again either. He slumps on the couch and just watches you. He is transfixed on the way your bodies move together. The look of an acolyte graced by God’s presence.

Released from his strangle-hold, a beautiful rush of oxygen enters your lungs. Your head spins. Mikey quickly grabs your hips as you start to tilt to the side in a rush of dizziness.

This is bliss.

Mikey’s cock is so good, and when you bounce just right, you can rub your fat clit all over his abs, through the thin cotton of his shirt. Feels so good. But you do wish it was Kakucho’s dick inside you now. Or better yet, Mikey and Kakucho. Yes, now that would make you cum again. You’re sure of it.

“Lub yew Kakuchooo,” you gargle out, giggling.

“Kakucho, she wants you,” Mikey says, voice unbelievably steady given the pace you are setting on his dick. “Why don’t you show her how much you love her, too? Fill her ass.”

You marvel that Mikey is a mindreader.

Kakucho undresses behind you. While he does, Mikey spits on his fingers and teases his way into your asshole. You are thankfully stretched from the plug you wore earlier that day, but the passage feels impossibly tight with Mikey’s big dick taking up all the space on the other side. Such an odd, intrusive feeling, but the couple fingers don’t burn as they fingerfuck their way inside you.

A moment of emptiness, and then you feel a lubed dick pushing against the ring of muscles. There is only one moment of rejection, where your body refuses to house both men at once, but then Kakucho’s insistence pays off, and he is fully seated inside you.

Full, full, full. Full.

How to describe the feeling? How to survive the feeling?

“Baby!” you keen.

No powers in the universe could compel you to keep riding now when you are stuffed fuller than festival yakisobapan. Your arms scramble backwards, wrap around Kakucho’s neck to keep yourself upright. Shirtless, your back molds into the firm, bared muscles there. The skin-to-skin contact denied you all night sends tingles erupting down your shoulder-blades. Kakucho presses kisses up and down your neck, dancing around the little bruises left by Sanzu’s fingers, sucking his own hickeys into the tender flesh.

“Fuck, you are tight. Too fucking tight,” Kakucho grunts.

“All for you baby,” you smile.

You kiss in a sloppy tangle of tongues, open-mouthed and hungry. All of these cocks have been an appetizer, and now you are ravenous for the main meal.

You feel so connected to Kakucho. You start to cry tears of joy.

Kakucho starts to thrust into your tight hole. It is the dirtiest feeling imaginable, and you stretch and burn around the hot cock. The best part of each thrust is how it pushes you back down onto Mikey’s cock, now pressed tightly to your upper walls and rubbing your g-spot cruelly.

Back-and-forth they penetrate you, and you, weakly, take it. Sometimes Mikey thrusts his own hips up as Kakucho moves forward, and they meet in the middle, where your walls separate them, and it is so earth-shatteringly much, that you feel your brains drooling out of your ears. You swear you do.

Mostly, Mikey stays still and lets Kakucho do the work of bouncing you up and down with his piercing thrusts. So much power behind each that your pussy milks the cock inside it greedily. Meanwhile, Mikey abuses your tits, pinching, plucking, and slapping as the mood strikes him. There are too many points of pleasure at once. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus.

Mikey looks deep into your eyes, into your soul. “If you love him, then cum. Cum all around my cock. Soak me with it.”

Here is what makes him a leader. The charisma to issue an order and know with certainty it won’t be disobeyed. A rip tears through your exhausted body as it forces up the orgasm required of it. Too soon, too fast.

The rush of pleasure is painful in its intensity, a bubbling as you start to squirt a little around the dick holding you wide open. Your pussy clenches tight, and the rest of your body spasms sympathetically, which tightens you around Kakucho in turn. Starbursts behind your closed eyes, flares, and signal lanterns; a cacophony of color, a symphony of light.

Kakucho mumbles something loving in your ear. The words don’t matter. You can feel through the thread of love that connects you that it is something sexy and beautiful. Your asshole becomes even hotter as he cums deep inside you. You shiver desperately.

Then, Mikey is pulling out of your clenching pussy, and cumming himself. Fat globs of cum land on your thighs and the top of your mound. You see his cock clearly for the first time, so unnaturally large on his small figure. It quickly wilts after emptying all over you.

Your own orgasm quivers through you for a few seconds more, elongated by the softening length of Kakucho still in your ass. Then, you too are returned to earth.

Everything is too bright, too harsh. Gingerly as you can, you lift yourself off Mikey’s lap. The motion causes Kakucho to slip out of you. The couch is there to catch your limp body as you sink into exhaustion.

You look up and see Kokonoi there, still with the camera trained at you. No, trained to your lower body. Cum oozes out of your asshole to stain the couch, and he captures the whole thing.

Fucking filthy. And you love it.

Kakucho folds right beside you on the couch. The sticky side of him presses against yours. He looks like he’s just finished up at the gym. If the gym kicked his ass.

“Well, then,” Mochi says from his own seat.

Everyone looks to Mikey, still slumped with his soft dick out. Already he looks bored again, like gangbangs are a regular occurrence for him.

Ran strikes a cigarette.

“Welcome to the family, [y/n],” Mikey says. The others are quick to chime in their agreement.

The family, huh? The strangest fucking family you’ve ever seen.

Still, you can’t help but think they have their uses.

As your eyes flutter closed for a well-deserved nap, you remind yourself that you’ll need to ask Kokonoi for a copy of that tape.

It just might have its uses, too.

#tokyo revengers smut #kakucho x reader #kakucho smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #ran x reader #ran smut #rindou x reader #rindou smut #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #mochi x reader #mochi smut #in the belly of the beast #heed the warnings please

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mochiwritesstuff · 4 months

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"I'll fuck you later cuddles come first"

Cuddles...Or me railing the fuck out of you"

Sir please, i promise I'll be a good girl for you

#mochi smut

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0rchard · 2 years

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The question is does Mochi have a big dick (I'm thinking horse size to be honest)

That's a good question anon 🤭 I dont think he fits the 'horsecock' criteria, but he's still above average. He is a bit longer but mostly really girthy, and also quite veiny.

Dont get me wrong tho, Mochi is a gentleman and will be sure you're prepared enough (he mastered fingering for that reason), and trust me, you come to love those veins (especially the one on the right). f

Dick game-wise, well, he still has room for improvement but that probs come from his lack of sexual partner (he is not that fond of one-night stands).

If I had to add him to my top of biggest dick tr characters, he would be 7th, right behind Benkei!

#i really like mochi and im sad he dont get so much content tbh #🧃.apple juice #tr smut #tokyo revengers smut #tr mochi #tokyo revengers mochi #kanji mochizuke #mochi smut

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mochinomnoms · 3 months

Note

The second morning Yuu wakes up after becoming Floyd's mate, they yawn, as usual. Floyd interprets that as "I'm horny," as morays do, and, when Yuu tries to go about their daily routine, Floyd does NOT allow it. In his eyes, that would be letting his mate spend all day pent-up and needing to cum, which would be what a bad mate would do. Floyd won't let himself be a bad mate.

One problem: he doesn't have the energy to bang right off the bat, nor the time to let himself gain that energy before fulfilling his mate.

One solution: eating Yuu out first thing in the morning. And then they're panting with their mouth wide open, so back in he dives! Again, and again, until Yuu is too tired to open their mouth that far. Then, of course, like a good mate, he makes them breakfast, feeds them in bed, and carries them to the bathroom to brush their hair and such. Rinse and repeat for a few days.

One morning, Floyd wakes first (as usual) and smells something unusual. His mate wakes up slowly, from the pain, and doesn't yawn. That's odd. Normally, he'd eat them out a few times to satiate them before facing the day.

So, he does the moray thing and sniffs Yuu, because something smells...off. A little like... blood? So, he starts at the neck and moves down to the collarbone, then the chest, then the tummy, then the crotch, where he stuffs his nose RIGHT against his mate's hole- underwear in the way- and freaks the hell out, because his precious Kokoroebi-chan is bleeding. From there, still panicking, he wraps them in the blanket like a burrito and it's away to the nurse!

Screw the door to the infirmary, it's in his way, and now the nurse has to explain periods to a moray on the brink of tears- nope, wait, he's crying. What do you mean, "every month?!" What do you mean, you, "can't just end them?!" What do you mean, "they're natural?!" He doesn't care! His mate's in pain! They're hurting! Do something, bitch! Wha- detention?! Shut the fuck up and help them!

Meanwhile, Yuu is just now realizing that of course Floyd doesn't know what that is, he's a fish.

After that chaos, Floyd tends near obsessively to his mate, doing everything they ask and everything they don't but need anyway, like food. Yuu decides morays are way better than moray for the simple reason of no human male would be this doting and helpful.

-nightshade anon

GOD YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG IT HAS SO MANY FOLDS I have so many thoughts about this that i simply do not have the time to put INTO WORDS AAAAAAA

*slams fit into table* the urge, THE URRRRGE to write a fic this!!!!

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech smut #if i dont do it someone else who does tag me in it #nightshade anon

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mochimooon · 2 months

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handsy - jean kirstein x reader 18+

Jean really likes to finger-fuck you. 'Nuff said. notes - established relationship. this came to me suddenly one morning and possessed me to write this on the fly. Zero plot, barely edited, minor POV switch, just filth :) warnings - explicit content, vaginal fingering, pervy! jean word count - 1800+

Jean is a handsy man. Or rather he’s a shameless perv – your words not his.

Then again, it’s hard for Jean to deny that. He can’t help it, never with you, not with the body you have. Moreso, he loves touching you.

The feel of your body, molding into his touch. The softness of your flesh, the roundness of your tits so fun to grope and pert nipples, too cute to not pinch. And then there’s that neck of yours, always adorned with a chain or necklace that calls his attention, a vampire that needs to sink his teeth into. He can’t forget those legs of yours. How they bend and stretch, looking so pretty wrapped around his waist and neck.

It's no secret, Jean loves to touch you in the most lewd ways. He calls it worship, you call it shameless.

To-may-to, to-mah-to. Because despite your bravado, you enjoy being spoiled by him, fending him off with lighthearted attempts.

But there is a line that you’ve been forced to draw, one that Jean crosses again and again and again.

It’s just not fair, he thinks. Of course, he’s more than thrilled to have you in any way that he can, but he wants to draw his own line that crosses over yours. Because pray tell, why it’s such an issue that Jean, more than anything else, fucking loves to finger you.

After you had swatted his hand away for the nth time during a dinner date, you demanded to know why he wanted to finger you constantly.

It was the first time, Jean had to think about it. There’s just something so naughty about sneaking his hand where it shouldn’t go. It’s perverted, he acknowledges that, and that’s what makes it the most fun. Something everyone’s taught— keep your hands to yourself. Jean likes doing the opposite with you.

The feel of your pussy pulsing around his digits, walls clamping down on his knuckles, it makes Jean delirious.

Jean’s a glutton for every single response you make. From the various ways you utter his name.

With a surprised gasp, “Jean!”

An annoyed, click of your tongue. “Jean…”

A hushed tone. “Jean.”

When you’re cumming on his fingers, moaning out, “Jean!”

Annoyed, worried, aroused, Jean loved every bit of it. Seeing your face screwed with pleasure despite bad timing (again your words. There’s no such thing as bad timing for him), nothing you could say or do would deter him from not fingering you.

The cycle never ends. He slides a hand up your skirt or dips his fingers into your jeans, and his touch makes itself at home in your wet pussy, all while you try to bat him away.

Today is no different. At a party with close friends, Jean had been extra touchy-feely with you, forecasting his habit. He managed to stave off for a few hours as you mingled with others, while he gave you some space only to resurface like an overactive puppy in desperate need of a walk.

But midway through, he snatched you up the stairs and into Connie’s bedroom, hands lifting the end of your dress.

You smack his chest. “Jean – no! Bad!”

He snorts, dropping his hands in feigned innocence. “Baby, I’m not a dog.”

“Yes, yes, you are. We’re at a party, just cool it for tonight or else.”

He dug his hands into his pockets, but you keep a close eye on them. “What do you mean or else?” His voice drips with curiosity, wiping away his impish grin.

“Or else, no touching for a while. No sex.” Jean’s mouth drops, but you cut him off. “I’m not messing around. You can’t just finger me with other people around.”

“Why can’t I finger you here then?” He sways on his heels, looking around to indicate how it’s empty. “I was on my best behavior. Didn’t slip my hand up your dress once tonight.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “No, but you were very touchy. Didn’t you hear Sasha tell us to get a hotel?”

He steps forward, hands still buried in his pockets. He’s being cautious, you can tell because you step back. “What’s wrong with wanting to touch my girlfriend?”

You clench your jaw to stop you from repeating the same thing. It’s a strategy that has worn you down in the past. Jean will beg, ‘but why not?’ on loop, using that charming smile of his to pepper kisses along your face, and your vestige would melt every time.

No, you tell yourself, watching him closely, ready to grab his hands when they leave his pockets.

He looms closer, gaze spilling onto your face. “I just want to touch you. I mean, look at you.” Light brown eyes rake you up and down. “You deserve an orgasm looking that good. Are you saying you don’t want one?”

It’s not fair how weak you are to the look he gives you. And the simple words of wanting to spoil you twists in your mind and curls down to your stomach, lighting that familiar spark.

No. You need to stand firm. This is good for the both of you. “It’s not going to work this time.”

“But – ”

“Uh-uh.” You shake your head. “It was cute the first couple of times, but I’m drawing a line.”

He pouts, a plea in his eyes.

You avert his gaze, unable to trust yourself, and it takes more restraint when Jean steps closer, kissing your hairline.

“Let me make you feel good. I just want my baby to relax.” He trails his lips to your forehead, down your nose in an innocent gesture, then finds your jaw. “C’mon. Say yes.”

You bite back a mewl, conflict only making you warmer. No matter how many times he’s touched you, Jean leaves you spellbound like the first time you met.

“Say yes…” he purrs into your lips.

The words steep into your mind, so close to reaching your tongue. But you catch the sound of others walking by, reminded of where you are. You blink, taking stock of the bedroom. Jean, however, doesn’t care about any of that, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Jean…”

“Uh-huh…” His voice trails towards victory.

“Not here.”

He pulls back, throwing his head back with a deep sigh, a look of defeat. You bristle with regret, yet stunned that Jean actually relented.

He lowers his head, a glimmer flashing in his gaze that sends a shudder down your spine.

It’s too late to stop his hands; they’ve freed themselves from his pockets and grab hold of your hips. You expect to be thrown on the bed, only for the floor to jostle in your sights.

Jean holds you securely over his shoulder, hooking an arm along the back of your knees. The other is on the move, lifting your dress and pulling your underwear off.

“Jean – ” You wriggle, though afraid you’ll fall.

Jean’s too strong to let that happen, even more determined to keep you in his clutches. Your panties are slipped past your ankles and tossed somewhere you can’t see. He pats your bare ass, giving the side a kiss.

Without preamble, you feel the drag of his finger along your slit, whining out.

“You’re soaking. You see, you just need an orgasm.” Jean’s tone is shadowed with lust.

“Jean, wait – ” you gasp, unable to negotiate, cut off with the push of two fingers. Your pussy flutters, stretching with a sting that sculpts around his knuckles. “Ah –”

“I’ll make you feel good.” Jean’s fingers pump into you deeply, the pad of his thumb reaching for your clit.

“Ah – ah – ” You’re already so dizzy, melting like clay at Jean’s deft fingers. It’s a first to be finger-fucked like this, but he’s skillful as always, you can’t blame this man for wanting to finger you. He’s a master at it. “Jean—”

He hums, pulling back his fingers until the tips tease your entrance. You miss the fullness of his touch already and you wriggle again, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “I’ll keep going, only if you say you love being fingered by me.”

You whimper, finding a way to grind down onto his fingers in the position you’re in. It feels impossible, only reaching the brush of his fingertips.

“Say it,” Jean says, pressing onto your clit. “Say, ‘I love it when you finger me’.”

You don’t know what it is about this time that hits different. On his lap, on your back, on your feet, Jean never fails to make you come undone on his hand. But over his shoulder, reliant on his hold, your stomach burns, your pussy dripping.

“Say it,” Jean repeats. “I want to touch you bad. But I want you tell me that you love getting fingered by me.”

You feel one finger plunge inside, nowhere near enough. “Jean, please, finger me.”

“Gladly, but that’s not what I want to hear. C’mon, don’t be stubborn. We don’t have all night. The party’s going to end in an hour, and Connie will need his bedroom at some point. Of course, I can always tell him that we’re busy.”

You scoff but it’s strained. Doing a sweep of your surroundings, you’re dizzy, voice lost.

“C’mon. You can do it. Just tell me you like how I finger you…”

You moan at the press of his fingertips teasing your hole. The moment drags out and you ache for reprieve. “I – I love – when you finger me – ”

“That’s my girl.” Triumph laces Jean’s murmur and he rewards you with three fingers, thrusting into you while his thumb rubs at your center. “You deserve an orgasm now.”

Your fingers claw Jean’s shirt, toes-curling as you’re struck with ecstasy. You moan out, wrinkling Jean’s shirt to stabilize you.

The moment passes, a crashing of a wave returning to the sleepy ocean. You fall limp, boneless and satisfied.

Jean slides you to your feet, keeping you steady. You peer up behind a lidded gaze, gratitude in your smile.

He strokes your face, taking his soaked fingers in his mouth. “I could finger-fuck you every second of every day.”

You smile weakly, leaning into his chest. The moment is short-lived. Your back sinks into the mattress with Jean crawling over your body, prying your thighs apart.

You give him a dumbfounded look, slow to realize what he’s already had in store.

He cups your pussy, teasing your entrance again. He flits a look up, mischief caught in his eyes. “Give me another one and I’ll keep my hands to myself for the rest of the night.” You’re too weak to argue, already bucking your hips at the renewed pleasure Jean pumps into you. His words evade you, as you and Jean both know that keeping his hands off you is a false promise. You swallow your pride, because he's not wrong, you wouldn't dream of him keeping his hands off you.

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bokutosmochi · 6 months

Text

kinktober day five: somnophilia!

ADRENALINE RUSH ♡ NANAMI KENTO

fem!reader x nanami kento

ingredients: nanami has some adrenaline he has to get rid off

what's it: smut

allergen warning/s: spit, unprotected sex, somnophilia

sugar level: 1.5k

regulars: @ventdavi154 @deobiforever @sugusshi @angelshub @eussstasss

parlor's note: can't do a kinktober without including nyanyamin!!

bon appetit!

fuck gojo, fuck that patchface curse, fuck the higher ups

those were the only thoughts that bounced around nanami's head.

it was no secret that the man hated going any minute overtime, now here he was going home at fucking ten in the evening. on top of that, because of the late hour, the things he was able to pick up from his favorite bakery were what ever was left over from the day -- though one would argue that he's lucky because said bakery was still open at the late hour. regardless, the fact remained: the pastries were no longer fresh, no longer fluffy and warm.

if it was any other day, he wouldn't have ate it on the subway ride home from work and instead saved it so he could reheat it once he's safely in the confines of his own home, but not today. he was too hungry, and quite frankly, running out of patience.

he sets down his dull blade in its rightful place by the door and tugs off the yellow patterned tie in an uncharacteristically pissed off manner. not only was he filled with negative emotions, but adrenaline from the fight he had against an unnamed, unregistered cursed spirit was still pumping in his veins. with a huff, he hangs it over his shoulder, before moving on to unbutton his blue button down shirt as he walks over to the bedroom.

this was the part of his day that he looked forward to the most. sure, it was the end of the day, but it was the part where he'd see you, hold you for more than two hours.

laid down in the large california king bed was you. thick, soft blankets tucked up to under your chin, hair he loved running his hands through fanned out around your face, and your face. you looked so angelic when you slept, so peaceful even during nights like this when he knew you weren't sleeping well because he wasn't there in the bed with you -- you confessed to him one time, you always get the best dreams, the most restful nights of sleep whenever he's there holding you.

you shifted in your sleep, turning to your other side making the blanket move further down your body. it exposed the thin shirt you were wearing; an old shirt of nanami's. the fabric was so worn down that the man could spot your nipples, hardened from the chilly autumn air, from under the shirt.

you mewled softly and it made nanami wonder what you were dreaming of; whether you were dreaming at all. aside from that, the sound also made his beige slacks tighten and he found a way to release all that pent up frustration and adrenaline from his system.

he pushes the dress pants down along with his boxers, then damn near trips trying to take his socks off and walk to you at the same time. he's just had such a rough day and needs some help from you.

a thought pushes itself into his mind the moment he crawls on top of you, one that's about morality and ethics. he's never done this before and it feels wrong to do it. second thoughts fill his mind, but he remembers the fact that you've had this discussion before. he's already asked for your permission prior. in return, you only asked one thing from him: if i had a long day, try not to wake me if you don't have or want to. and aside from that, you've always been such a nice and thoughtful girlfriend. there has never been a moment in the many years you've been together where you've lacked understanding with him. you're always so selfless, giving him whatever he wanted, so long as it's reasonable, and this is reasonable, right?

with those thoughts as a green light, he pushes the blanket away from your body, nudges you so you'd be lying on your back, and moves the crotch of your panties to the side so he can have his way with you.

always the caring boyfriend, he makes sure you're properly lubricated before he does pushes himself in. after all, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to his sweet, caring girlfriend.

getting you wet the way he usually does takes too long, and besides, he'd probably end up waking you up too, which is something you asked him not to do if he didn't have to. not to mention the fact that he always gets so into turning you on; it's what gets him aroused too. he'll get too handsy, too noisy.

it's not an option so he opts to spit on your pussy instead.

he enjoys the sight of his glob of drool dripping around your vulva for a moment before spreading it around. when he decides that you're not wet enough, he spits again and does the same thing.

the man may think that exerting minimal effort is all that's required for most of his day-to-day tasks, but that rule does not include you and it never will. he always makes sure to take care of you the way you take care of him.

when your lips are shiny with his spit, he backs away for a moment, lines the head of his cock with your slit then pushes in as softly and slowly as he could, trying his best not to jostle you.

he moans lowly as he sinks in your warm pussy. it's a sensation he can never get enough of, even if he makes love to you a million times. he adores it, the way you welcome him so easily. he only stops his motions when he was buried to the hilt, his pelvis flush against yours.

he looked down to where your bodies connected and involuntarily muttered a low shit under his breath. to him, the sight was a masterpiece that could easily top an expensive painting any day; it certainly made him feel more emotions than those.

with a deep breath sucked in through the mouth, he started moving, steadily thrusting in and out of your wet cunt. the movement was calculated, executed with maximum precision to ensure that you won't wake from your slumber.

how could you expect him to keep his composure completely under these circumstances? you're so tight, he's always said that your pussy was made for him, and he doesn't just say that to get you off; he truly means it, and then you combine your perfect pussy with your perfect face. he's a goner.

he tries to stifle his moans, tries to swallow them under his breaths, but a few still manage to escape. despite those, he continues to yearn to make this nice and quick. it's just to blow off some steam, after all.

the moment his attempts become futile comes when you stir, letting out noises that shoots blood steaming down to his already painfully hard dick, and flutter your eyes open.

when his eyes meets yours, his elbows buckle, though he's quick to straighten himself back up again; his motion was so fluid you didn't even notice it, only the slight twitch of his cock.

you yawn before acknowledging the situation. "kento?" your words are slurred due to the sleepiness that remains in your system. "what's goin' on?"

"sorry hun," he grunts, continuing to fuck you. "adrenaline rush. you can go back to sleep if you want."

you give him a hum though you didn't actually succumb to sleep. the feeling of kento's cock inside you wasn't something you could simply nap through, no matter how hard you try nor matter how hard he tries to not rouse you.

he might have thought you were asleep - you were so quiet, not making a noise other than the natural moans - if you didn't mutter an "i'm close" at the exact same moment he felt his orgasm nearing.

"i am too, hun." his movements become sloppier. he loses his rhythm to the pleasure and due to the lapse in concentration since he began to play with your clit to help you reach your high as well.

"ken," he recognizes what you need with the call of his name. one of your hands found their way to his back, currently running the nails down the hard muscle. the pain only added to nanami's delight.

"i'm right there, hun. you can let go."

the both of you come at the same time and the feeling was euphoric. despite wanting rest, you're glad you woke up.

"that was nice." you commented lamely. the word didn't sum up the experience, it was so much better than nice, but your tired brain couldn't think of anything else. apparently, nanami had the same sentiment.

"i think that's a bit of an understatement, darling. now come on and get some rest, you deserve it."

i get: reblog

you get: a california king bed with a nanami body pillow

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todomochi-uwu · 4 months

Text

Who. (4/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Green, blue and red lights light up the entire place, there´s so much noise you can barely hear Chan and Han over the music, and the smoke machines uncomfortably fill your lungs, but none of that is enough to keep your thoughts away from the ones your heart yearns for.

Yeah, the last couple of weeks had been better, you had stopped drowning in your tears and the insomnia that had accompanied you every night for the last weeks seemed to finally abandon your side, but their presence remained there, stuck to your head, leaching off your pain, as if it was determined to not let you forget. Were they okay? Had they moved on? Did they even care?

Your mind kept going back to simpler times, memories of what once had been the strongest relationship you had ever been in.

The bed was a mess, sheets ruffled next to the TV, clothes were scattered everywhere, pillows laid under your knees so you wouldn’t get hurt while you rode Mingi, hips moving up and down without rhythm, desperate to reach that sweet release, but every single time you were close Yunho grabbed your hips firmly stopping your movements.

“You are not allowed to cum baby, not until Mingi does first.” You tried to focus on the man in front of you, blush covering his cheeks, his mouth was barely opened, small moans and groans kept escaping out of his throat, eyes clouded with pleasure, his eyebrows furrowed every time you went down his cock, lips swollen and pink from all the kissing. Mingi was the most sinful image you had ever seen, and you were desperate to make him feel good.

“Please, please, Yunho, please let me cum.” You threw your head back, licking your lips, your knees were cramping, but stopping would be so much worse, “I’ve been a good girl.”

“No, I don’t care how good it feels, you are not allowed to cum.” His fingers traced a path down your body, caressing and massaging your neck, making their way through your breasts pinching your nipples and twisting them, next was your sternum, your stomach, till they finally ended in your core. Two of them framed Mingi’s cock while he was still inside you. “Come on, baby. You can do better than that, you are barely moving.” He took you by the chin with his other hand, straightening your view, “Don’t you want our Princess to feel good?”

Mingi’s eyes were covered in tears, his breathing heavy and his cheeks strawberry red, his hands grabbing your hips helping you move faster, “Please, love, please make me cum.” You couldn’t resist. No matter how much your thighs were crying, no matter how sore you’d be tomorrow, you were determined.

“Good job, baby. You are such a good girl.” Yunho whispered in your ear, while kissing your shoulders, leaving small bite marks on them.

And not so happy times.

Mingi’s phone was going crazy. Texts and calls from the office kept coming up, distracting him from the task he was currently performing. His head was in between your legs, his lips and tongue messily lapping up at your core, fingers hastily going and out of you; and physically he was there with you, mentally you knew he was only thinking about work. Your fiancé was usually so good at making you come with his mouth, but right now you barely even felt good, his tongue was not good enough knowing he wasn’t there with you.

“Mingi, please, they can wait for a little while.” You begged him, caressing his headlocks, trying to bring him back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just make this quick, I don’t want to piss off Jongho.” He was talking about it as if it was a chore, or another job, that did it for you.

You closed your legs and sat down immediately, pushing him away, “Never mind. Go and take care of whatever it is.” You put on your robe, leaving to go to the bathroom. He didn't even try to stop you.

There, you looked at yourself in the mirror, full-on makeup done, your hair styled and a set of lingerie (you had spent more than an hour trying to figure out how to put it on), you had outdone yourself so one of them would notice you, so one of them would want you like you wanted them, but of course, everything else was more important, more urgent. You felt your relationship hanging by a threat, and they had no clue.

You had been weak a couple of days ago, not being able to sleep, you decided to do something to appease the anxiety that had been running through your veins for hours.

“Hello?” A groggy voice responded from the other side.

You gulped down, already regretting your decision, “Hey, Hongjoong?”

You heard ruffling, and his voice got clearer, “Oh my god Y/n, is that you? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. Um… listen, um…” You couldn’t bring yourself to ask, too scared of the way he might react.

“You want to know how they are doing, don't you?”

You stayed quiet, the lump in your throat made it impossible for anything to come out.

“Well, it took almost a week for us to know you had left, neither of them said anything until Jongho went to your apartment wanting to know why Mingi wasn’t answering his phone or showing up to work. But the first time I saw them they were a wreck, the house was a complete mess, both of them sleeping in different rooms, Yunho barely came home and Mingi wouldn’t leave it. They looked so sick I almost didn’t recognize them, pale, heavy eyebags, and the smell, ugh the smell.” He chuckled sadly, shaking his head at the thought, “I had never seen them like that.”

“You must hate me.” You whispered tears threatening to slip out of your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them, you were just so tired of that.

“At first, I was confused, I didn’t know what was happening or why, but they explained everything and I couldn’t blame you. I wasn’t happy to see them like that, but I knew you must not have been any better.”

“Yeah.”

…

“So, how’s Chan been?”

You stuttered not knowing what to say.

“Oh Y/n we’ve been friends since middle school, you think I wouldn't know? Hell, I don’t even know how it hasn’t crossed their mind, you always go back to Chan.”

“Nothing’s going on with him.”

“I never said it was.”

You pulled on the thin skin of your lips, tearing it apart, slowly the taste of iron covered your tongue; your heart was beating a thousand miles per second and you ran out of things to say. Hongjoong kept telling you about them, how things had been in their friend group, and everyone’s reactions, it didn’t do much to soothe your fragile muscle, but at least it was something.

“Sooner or later, you’ll have to face them, Y/n.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

A pair of fingers kept snapping in front of your face, Han called your name repeatedly, “Y/n, Y/n, oh my god Y/n,” Snap, snap, snap, “Jesus, Y/n snap out of it already.”

You shook your head, your eyes focusing on the cherry-checked boy. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about… work.”

His eyes narrowed, looking at you incredulously, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say babe. Chan went to the bar to get us some shots.”

“Great.”

“What's going on with you? An hour ago, you were so excited to go out, and now look at you.”

“It’s nothing Jisung…” He cut you off

“Oh, you can't fool me, Y/n. I know what you are thinking about, who you are thinking about. You need a distraction, something to help you move on.”

“Is not that easy.”

“I know, believe me I know, but maybe a little push will help you.”

“Help as in therapy?”

“Mmm, I was thinking for more like a good fuck.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with shame, “Han, what the fuck?”

“Oh, as if you don’t miss getting dicked down, you went from two dicks to zero in a second, I can’t imagine being that starved.” He giggled taking a sip from his beer.

“I'm not having this conversation with you.” You pushed him away, shaking your head and laughing.

“Right, because you can tell me all about how Yunho’s dick is the biggest you’ve ever had or how Mingi’s head game is so good he almost made you pass out, but this is where you draw the line. Common Y/n, you are not doing anything wrong, you are a gorgeous, single woman, it’s only natural to get back into the game.”

A single woman. You haven’t been one in years. It felt so wrong to think of yourself as one, but it is what it is.

“How about Chan?”

You were taken back, not believing what came out of Jisung’s mouth. “You cannot be serious.”

“Why not? He’s hot, you guys used to do it all the time, it’s not like he’s a stranger.”

“Yeah, back in college, I haven’t looked at Chan in that way in years.”

“You are full of shit. You think I didn't see you back at his apartment? You were practically fucking him with your eyes, he looks good and you know it.”

Your cheeks got impossibly red, making your muscles hurt, “I did not…”

“You did, and that’s okay. Give yourself a chance, love. You never know what might happen.

The thought of actually doing it crossed your mind, could you do it? Could you let yourself into another's arms while someone else was on your mind?

Chan appeared with two handfuls of shot glasses, walking slowly towards your table, “I think I might have overestimated how much we can drink.”

“Oh, this is nothing, remember how much we used to drink back then? I don’t remember half the parties I went to.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Besides, we are older Hannie, I don’t think we can do it.” You said looking at all the alcohol in front of you.

“We can always try.” He said taking his first shot.

____________________________________________

“Han is your husband.”

“Yes Jeong, you were at our wedding against my will. What about it?” Minho’s eyes stayed firm on the road.

“I just can’t help but wonder how such a pure, innocent and gentle soul ended up with the devil?”

Minho grinned, shaking his head, “I like to think we balance each other out.” The car took a turn, “But I could ask you the same thing, what is the human embodiment of a cupcake doing with Dr Jeong biggest asshole in the neurology department Yunho, and well, Mingi.”

“Well, for one I'm not always an asshole,” Yunho chuckled, “and the rest was pure luck I guess.”

“I think she’d beg to differ.” The cat-eyed doctor looked at him for the first time since the ride started, “What happened anyways?

An uncomfortable silence filled the car, Yunho sighed and let his head rest against the car window.

“I got too much into my head, and so did Mingi. Work was killing me, bills began piling up and I couldn’t do much, so I started working double shifts, taking small jobs here and there. Mingi’s clients needed lots of things at the same time, they lost a case, I don’t know, I guess everything got too hectic too quickly. We would leave early in the morning, I wouldn’t come home for days, and Mingi would arrive late at night. We both were so stressed but couldn’t do anything about it, it bottled up.” His voice was cracking up, barely able to continue, “We just never stopped, we never noticed how badly we were neglecting her until it was too late.” He paused, letting out a sob, “One day, I came home, just a quick stop to take a shower and say hi, the second I stepped foot I knew something was wrong. She had taken all her things; her ring was right on the bed.” He shut his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows, remembering the scene, “My whole world came crashing down, Minho. I have never felt so much pain.”

“Yeah, been there done that.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him confused.

“You aren’t the only one who’s a workaholic.” Minho took a deep breath, “Back in college things between Han and me were not so good, we were always fighting, always so hostile and short with each other. I’ll admit it was mostly my fault, school got worse each day, I was struggling to keep my scholarship, my job at the café, Jisung; competing against you the entire time didn’t help.”

“Hey, man you did that to yourself, I showed up the first day of school and I already had a rival, and I’ll admit I liked the competition until you started being a real asshole to me and till this day I have yet to know why you hate me so much. At first, I thought it was because I’m just a better doctor, but…” He said with humour before Lee cut him off.

“You are not a better doctor than me, you dick.” The older doctor said, “I was taking the piss when we were students, it used to motivate me, but I didn’t hate you because of that, I just didn’t like you, but I don’t hate you.”

“Because…”

Minho gulped, was it his place to say it? “Back then…”

“Back then when Chan and Y/n were a thing?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused and shocked, “Wait, you knew about it?”

“Oh, it was obvious, Chan hated us the second he met us, I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence, also your husband tends to spill out his brain when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah, that’s Jisung for you.” He said while shaking his head and smiling, the thought of his drunk husband warmed his heart. “I almost lost him back then. One day, in the middle of a discussion, he told me he was done with my bullshit, he was tired of me taking him for granted and never being there. In the beginning, I thought it was just another argument, and that things would go back to normal in a couple of days, but after a week I knew I was wrong. I felt like an idiot for waiting an entire week, he didn’t want to see me, I tried everything, and even Y/n hated me, it took me months to gain back his trust. There were times when I thought I was just too little, too late, that he would never take me back, and thank god he did, I don’t know what I would have done if he didn’t.”

“Is that why you are helping us?”

“I don’t like you, Yunho, that I’ll admit, but I know you are not a bad guy, neither is the other guy, and I know you love her. I get what’s like to lose yourself and everything you have, in a second.”

____________________________________________

Your hips swayed at the rhythm of the music, you let yourself go and try to forget. You deserve it. Jisung was next to you, dancing drunkenly, giggling and saying a bunch of random stuff you could barely understand. One second you saw him pointing at something behind him and the next one he was gone. You were left alone with Christopher.

“Are you having a good time?” He whispered in your ear, dangerously close to you. When had he gotten so close?

“Yeah, are you?”

“I think I had too many shots.” He giggled. Yeah, he was so drunk.

“Me too.” You laughed along.

You kept dancing next to each other, occasionally getting pushed by the rest of the crown on the dance floor, with every step you came closer, and before you knew it, your chest pressed against his. Slowly move your hips against each other, his hands grabbed your hips, and your head rested against his skin. You didn’t dare look up, you knew what would happen and you didn’t know if you were ready for that, or even if your head was in the right place for that; yet, you still had an itch for it.

And as if Chan was reading your mind, he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you look him straight in the eyes. So many moments and memories flood your mind, blurred scenes of your “relationship” back in college, could you go back to that?

His face came closer, and his lips whispered your name against yours. And once again, you let yourself go.

Everything happened so quickly, that your head could not register what was going on. A hand had grabbed yours, pulling you roughly, making you crash into someone, Chan looked upset and confused. You turned around and saw him, his eyes were furious, you could see his lips moving but didn't understand anything that was coming out of them. Those lips that you had been missing for months, those eyes that appeared in your dreams again and again.

“Yunho?”

____________________________________________

Taglist:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi

#ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jeong yunho #ateez yungi #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho angst #song mingi #mingi angst #mingi x reader #mingi smut #yungi x reader #yungi #mochi writes

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kazutora-kurokawa · 2 months

Note

NSFW headcanon. How would the Tenjiku guys react to their partner reaching back and spreading themselves open during sex?

Tenjiku x Reader: How They React to You Spreading Yourself Open for Them

♡ NSFW, Fem reader, degradation + praise, pet names, spanking, edging, oral/fem receiving, fingering, breeding kink, reader being manhandled, mean dom!Izana, reader is on all fours if you needed to know that lol ♡

Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Mucho, Mochi, Ran, Rindou, Shion, Hanma

note: thanks for requesting anon 🩷 I didn't include Kisaki, Koko, or Sanzu (I just don't consider them to be among the main members of Tenjiku) but if you desperately need them to be included just shoot me an ask (when I open my asks back up) and I'll write one for them

edit: I added Hanma specifically for @katkitkats

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 Was confused for a second because he didn't give you permission to touch yourself

🎴 Smacks your hand away and starts degrading you

"Did I tell you that you could touch yourself you little slut?"

🎴 Edges you as a punishment

Kakucho

🩷 Gets flustered and just stares at your pussy for a solid minute

🩷 Takes it as an invitation to get as deep as possible

🩷 Praises you the whole time

"Such a good girl opening yourself up for me, so damn pretty ♡"

Mucho

🔷 Doesn't even give you a chance to spread yourself because he's doing it for you, he's trying to hit every nerve fr

🔷 He damn near has you hitting splits with how far he spreads your legs (this man is actively trying to breed you)

🔷 Despite him manhandling you, he's relatively gentle during sex because he doesn't want to hurt you

"That's it babygirl, you're taking me so good. You deserve to have that pretty pussy filled up~"

Mochi

🍡 He's quick to respond when you spread yourself open for him

🍡 Immediately grabs your hips and flips you over onto your back

🍡 Since you obviously want him so badly, prepare to not be able to walk in the morning

"You should see yourself right now, you look so perfect and vulnerable underneath me angel."

Ran

💜 You've done this before so he isn't surprised

💜 Spanks you with his baton

💜 Teases you about how needy you are

"You're so damn needy doll, presenting yourself like such a whore for me ♡"

Rindou

🩵 As soon as you spread yourself for him, he's leaning in to kiss your pussy

🩵 Eats you out til his face is drenched in your juices and you're overstimulated

🩵 Grips your thighs because he knows your legs are gonna give out on you

"You taste so fucking good princess, just can't stop myself from being greedy~"

Shion

🖤 He's speechless, at an absolute loss for words fr

🖤 You look back at him and he's just staring at your pussy, probably drooling too

🖤 Immediately drops the idea of having sex because he wants to eat you out

"You're so fucking cute, I need to devour you darling."

Hanma

🏵️ Teases you about how needy you are

🏵️ Threatens to punish you by slapping your ass til it's red

🏵️ Flips you over and fingers you even though he knows you want him to fuck you

"Your pussy is so pretty babydoll. I can tell you're aching for me to fuck you, but I don't think you've earned it yet ♡"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel , @i-literally-cant-with-this , @trevengersprincess , @happy-trenchcoated-impala , @giugiette , @katkitkats

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers headcanons #tenjiku #izana smut #kakucho smut #mucho smut #mochi smut #ran haitani smut #rindou haitani smut #shion smut #I love Izana but I'd probably cry if I was in a relationship with him 😭#hanma smut

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mochirimochi · 6 months

Text

Somewhere Safe

William Afton X Reader

I wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit ok?

-This is now officially part 1 in a series!-

p1 ● p2 ● p3 ● p4

-----

You just need somewhere safe to hide from your abusive ex. Unfortunately for you, you're about to stumble into the arms of something much, much worse.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3700 words, no use of y/n

-----

cws: abusive relationships, degradation kink, breath play if you squint, smut, rough sex, EXTREMELY dubious concent, a sprinkle of spanking

You can also read on ao3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51567985

-----

Your arms shake as you push up the rusted steel door that separates the pizzeria from the outside world. Every clatter and rumble of the metal makes you flinch and sweep your eyes over the abandoned side lot. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about to catch you at this time of night, right? Regardless, your heart pounds as you force the heavy door up, inch by agonizing inch. As soon as you’ve made enough space for your body you toss your bag under and swiftly crouch to follow it.

Breaking and entering is far from your typical Monday night activity, but circumstances have left you with little choice in the matter. You need somewhere you won’t be found, somewhere no one will think to look for you. A dilapidated former birthday attraction certainly fits the bill, you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned the place to your ex before and if you have he probably won’t remember anyways.

You give the door a tug to close it behind you, flinching as it slams back down into the concrete, and pick your way through the broken glass of the entryway. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air, clawing at your lungs and making your eyes water. This place used to be so vibrant and full of joy once upon a time. You’ve attended many a birthday in the restaurant that stretches out in front of you, even had a few of your own. This place had always been a favorite of the local parents due to its… generous wine portions and the ability to outsource their children's supervision. As a result it had been a kids paradise, the ability to run wild while mom and dad got lost in the sauce on a Saturday afternoon? Few things could rival that sense of freedom for a kid. Ironic as it was considering what had come later, it had always been a place where you felt safe and happy. Maybe that was why you’d chosen the pizzeria when you needed to hide from your abusive boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now you suppose. It wasn’t like you had any plans to go back to the man after tonight.

You give yourself a shake, attempting to bring yourself back to the moment at hand. This isn’t exactly the time to be spacing out after all, you’re technically committing a crime. Actually, there isn’t anything “technical” about it, you’re definitely breaking multiple laws right now. You shoulder your backpack and cast a glance toward the stage, it’s concealed behind a dusty red curtain but you can practically picture the animatronics behind it ready to jolt into song and dance just like they did years ago. You wonder if the owner removed them when he shut the place down. If you pull back the curtain will you find the shabby remains of your childhood heroes? You shiver, maybe it’s best not to find out.

If you remember correctly, the staff always entered and exited through a door next to the prize counter, maybe you’ll find a staff room with a couch through there. It seems like as promising an idea as any so you flick on your flashlight and make your way past the dining area and through the arcade. Sure enough, you’re greeted with a “staff only” sign and an unlocked door to boot.

The hallway beyond is dark, lacking any of the color of the show floor. Interestingly, flickering yellow bulbs hang from the ceiling sporadically. The emergency power must still be on in this part of the building, you reason as you cautiously move through the hallway. You round a corner and let out a yelp as you collide with something huge, brown, and strangely soft. The impact knocks you off balance and you land rather gracelessly on your ass. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what you’re looking at as your gaze travels upwards over pudgy brown legs and a round plush stomach.

“Fredbear?!” The exclamation comes out before you really have a chance to think. “How in the world did you get all the way over here?” Your heart, which has been about ready to leap out of your chest, slows as you take in the animatronic. It’s in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the rest of this place. You push yourself to your feet and take a few steps back. “I can’t believe they actually left you guys here, you’d think they’d have moved you. Poor guy, all this time stuck in this dingy old hallway.”

It’s strange when you really think about it, who would leave him just standing in the bowels of the restaurant? It seems like an awfully strange place to just leave your star animatronic, rushed closure or not. After a moment, a distant memory of the animatronics being wired to wander through the pizzeria comes back to you, in fact now that you think about it you can remember getting a big warm hug or two from the Freddy animatronic. That would explain it, maybe his circuits got damaged over time and had triggered that unique function.

“Sorry to bug you big guy, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… needed somewhere safe.” Not for the first time that night you feel tears well in your eyes. “Nope, I am not going to cry over this. Not happening, you didn’t see me cry as a kid and you’re not gonna see it now.” You blink the tears away and the absurdity of your situation finally hits you. Not only are you hiding from your psycho ex and breaking the law for the first time in your life, but you’re also talking to a decrepit old robot like it can actually understand you. You heave a shaking sigh to ground yourself and pull your shoulders back. This might be your lowest moment but you refuse to let yourself wallow in it. With a determined huff you give Fredbear an affectionate pat on the arm before moving further into the building.

Before long you stumble across the staffroom, a long cluttered room with an extended plexi-glass window looking out into the hallway. Maybe at another time the window would serve to make the room feel brighter and bigger but now the dust covered plastic is shot through with a spider's web of cracks that barely allow you to see into the room. The door is unlocked though, and after a few quick shoves the warped wood releases its hold on the frame to allow you entry. Luckily, the room seems fairly well preserved and you spot a few dusty but intact couches pushed up against the wall. Jackpot. The exhaustion you’ve barely been keeping at bay all night hits you like a freight train and you lurch across the room to the couches. You collapse onto the nearest one, sending a fine cloud of dust into the air. You can’t bring yourself to care as you curled into a tight ball, finally letting sleep take you.

–

William watches the security cameras with curiosity as you wind your way through the building. Normally the animatronics would have taken care of any intruders well before they got to this point. This is new, novel even. He leans forward at his desk, squinting at the video feed in an attempt to get a better view. His jaw almost drops when you collapse onto the couch and fall still. Even through the grainy monitor he can tell that you’ve fallen asleep. What in the world is your deal? Who in their right mind would break into an abandoned establishment of dubious repute only to take a nap? He clasps his hands in thought as he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. This calls for a more… hands on investigation.

–

A tickling in your nose rouses you from your slumber and you begin to sneeze yourself awake with surprising force. You check your watch, barely 4 in the morning. You’ve only slept for an hour at most and exhaustion threatens to pull you back into sleep. It might too, if not for the insistent vibration of your phone in your pocket. You flip the cursed thing open without hitting the button to answer, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see.

Unsurprisingly, you’ve got 53 unread texts, 20 missed calls and 16 voicemails. You don’t need to check the contact info to know who they’re from. Against your better judgment you navigate to your sms messages and begin to read through the backlog when your phone finally stops buzzing. Some of the texts are pleading, others threatening. A few texts claim to “love you so much” and be “so fucking sorry”, while others rail at you “you fucking bitch” and “how dare you fucking run off like that?”. The messages paint a grim but unsurprising picture, a picture that’s unfortunately all too familiar. You raise your hand to the tender bruising that you know must be beginning to come to the surface on your neck before you navigate to your most recent voicemail. You flick on the speaker before staring into the green light of the screen.

“Where the fuck are you, you fucking bitch?” You flinch as an angry voice fills the room. “You think you can fucking run away from me? You think you can fucking end shit? You’ve got another thing coming to you, used up fucking slut. The next time I lay eyes on you you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Run the fuck away from me again and see what happens. I’ll-” You don’t give the voicemail a chance to run its course. With a raw, frustrated scream you launch the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying clatter. The battery and casing skitter across the floor and the voicemail cuts out abruptly. Not satisfied with just cutting the bastard off you stomp across the room, still screaming, and smash your foot into the body of the phone. It gives with a satisfying crunch and you roar as you kick it for good measure, sending the now useless device across the room once again. All the fear and rage of the last few hours overcomes you and you let yourself scream until you run out of breath.

Suddenly a flash of something yellow through the hallway window catches your eye. You push your hair out of your face as you try to catch your breath, attempting to squint through the aged plexi-glass. A hulking, inhuman figure stands on the other side of the window, seeming to peer back at you. For a moment neither of you move, it seems to be taking you in as much as you’re taking it in. The strange standoff breaks when the figure, still indistinct through the dust and cracks in the glass, starts to move slowly and methodically towards the staffroom door.

Finally your brain springs into action. Shit. Whatever that is, it’s not good. You sweep your eyes frantically around the room, weighing your options. Any windows to the outside are boarded up, and the only door in or out is the one the massive yellow figure is making its way towards. The only viable option seems to be to take the defensive. There’s a tiny kitchenette against the wall, and you rush towards it in desperation. Frantically, you yank open the drawers in search of anything you might use to protect yourself. The best you can come up with is a wooden spoon. In another situation that might be laughable, but you can’t take a moment to consider how absurd you look brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. The rattle of the doorknob tells you that you’re out of time.

Whatever you had expected to be on the other side of that door it certainly wasn’t a massive yellow rabbit suit. It’s huge, so large that it has to duck to get its ears under the door frame. As it tilts its head to take you in, your blood runs cold. You hold your ground as the thing stalks closer, its movements slow and deliberate as it moves towards you.

In a moment of desperation you launch yourself forward, attempting to dodge around the looming figure and make a dash for freedom. You don’t have a chance. A pair of strong arms wrap roughly around your waist, jerking you back with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your makeshift weapon clatters to the floor. A dark chuckle rumbles from the depths of the suit as a hand drags its way from your waist and up your chest to grab your chin.

“What. Have. We. Here?” The voice that comes from the suit is deep, taunting, and undoubtedly mascuine. He punctuates the last word with a rough but controlled yank, pulling your chin up and your head back into his chest. You whimper as it strains your already aching neck. With your head tipped back you can see the yellow rabbit head looming above you and it tilts to the side again as if in curiosity. “I asked you a question.”

“I-I-...” You can barely get your mouth to move and you lick your lips in a desperate attempt to draw words from them. Your obvious fear draws a satisfied hum from the depths of the suit and the hand on your waist tightens noticeably. The hand on your jaw however, disappears. You pull in a shaky gasp and buck your head forward in an attempt to build up enough momentum to break free. The vice-like grip on your waist is unaffected and your captor grunts in amusement.

A rustling above your head draws your attention and you look up to realize that the hand that had just been holding your jaw captive is running along the neck of the suit. With a single, deft movement the head of the suit comes off and your captors face is revealed. There’s an almost rugged handsomeness to his mature features, graying stubble covering his cheeks and eyes that in another life may have looked almost kind. The expression he’s peering down at you with now is anything but kind or gentle though. There’s a hunger there, and a barely suppressed rage. He places the head on a nearby table and returns his hand to your jaw. With agonizing languidness he leans forward and presses his lips to your ear.

“Who gave you permission to sleep in my restaurant?”

You gasp as his stubble rasps against your jaw and his hot breath ghosts across your face.

“I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave right now. I’ll-”

He cuts you off. “A place to stay, huh?” His lips are still brushing against your ear and despite yourself you feel a chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that absolute delight of a man on the other side of the phone, would it?”

“He’ll kill me.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth you know they’re true. Honestly, you’re lucky to have survived him this long.

“Oh, little mouse, what makes you think I won’t?” The grip on your jaw releases for a moment and you hear something fall to the floor. When it returns it’s a very warm, very human hand that takes its place. His other hand briefly lets go to do the same and you can feel his nails digging into your flesh as he presses you against him.

“Please.” It’s barely more than a whimper as the hand at your jaw dips to circle your neck. “I just needed somewhere safe.”

“And you chose here? Bad luck.” He presses his nose to your jaw and draws in a deep, ragged breath. “But you know, we might be able to work something out.” The hand at your waist begins to travel, burrowing its way under the hem of your shirt before splaying wide across your stomach. His long fingers barely brush the underside of your bra but you feel the heat of them as if there’s no fabric to separate you. “I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you put out in the cold.”

“Anything.”

–

William can barely contain himself. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms is oh so delicious and your intoxicating scent floods his nose, every breath sending a thrill through him. You’re so soft, so malleable, so utterly breakable. It’s brilliant.

Using one hand to keep you pinned against him he uses the other to work his way out of the suit with practiced skill. Initially he’d just wanted to watch you, figure out the enigma that was your survival after breaking into his restaurant. Normally people don’t last for more than a few minutes. But you’d dithered around, chatted up his ace in the hole, and then taken a nap? He couldn’t contain his curiosity.

The phone call had derailed his plan and given him an idea. Sure, he had planned on killing you once he’d solved your mystery but maybe there were other things you could be useful for. There was something captivating about you, and the perfect leverage had just fallen straight into his lap.

He makes quick work of the suit, and soon he’s reveling in the feeling of your body against his.

“Anything?” He asks, stroking his thumb gently over your jugular before giving your throat a controlled squeeze. Your startled gasp is almost enough to send him reeling. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little mouse.”

–

This is wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong.

And yet, your body seems to have some of its wires crossed because it is not getting the message. The only thing you should be feeling right now is fear, and sure, there’s a very healthy dose of that tying your guts in knots but beyond that there’s an underlying current of heat. None of what’s happening should be causing your core to tighten, and the goose bumps forming on your neck should be from terror.

But they’re not.

His hand drifts up even further, pushing your bra up and out of the way to capture the smooth skin of your breast in his hand. You can’t help it, you roll your hips back into his, pushing against the hardness that’s growing there at an almost alarming pace. He growls behind you, pulling you even closer to grind against your ass.

“So that’s how it is?” His voice in your ear is even deeper now, heavy with lust as he gives your breast a hard squeeze. Even you’re surprised when you let out a wanton moan. “Imagine such a dirty fucking slut falling right into my lap.” His words have you clenching around nothing and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel conflicted about your body's reaction. He releases your breast and his hand burns a trail down to the top of your jeans, he flicks the button open with ease and slowly undoes your zipper. Then he stops, his hand ghosts over the crotch of your jeans before it stills. You let out a needy whimper that you barely recognize as your voice.

“Beg for it, little mouse.”

You groan, canting your hips forward in a desperate search for pressure. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

His control seems to snap and he spins you around before shoving you across the room and face down into the couch, barely giving you time to yelp in surprise. He pulls your hips into the air before yanking down your jeans and panties in one harsh motion. The animalistic groan that escapes him at the sight of your dripping pussy sends a shock of arousal through you. He grabs a globe of your ass in each hand, digging his fingers in so hard that you gasp. His nails bite in deep enough that you’re sure they’ll draw blood.

“God, look at you.” He grunts, releasing your ass and stepping back as if to admire the view. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle and wiggle in anticipation. “What a fucking freak you are, so fucking wet and ready for a strange man in an abandoned building.” He lifts his hand and lands a stinging blow on your ass. You flinch and yelp at the unexpected pain and he does it again on the other cheek. “Dirty slut.” The sting brings tears to your eyes, but it also causes your arousal to coil even tighter in your abdomen.

Suddenly and without warning he grabs your hips and slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. You scream as he stretches you, your channel burning around his thick cock. “Take it.” He grunts, slamming into you. All you can do is whimper in response as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into you again and again. The burn eventually melts into a building and rising heat that threatens to sweep you away.

Your scalp stings as he tangles his fist in your hair and yanks your head back, changing the angle so that he drives impossibly deeper into you with every stroke. Any train of thought you may have been able to carry is lost as he bombards you with pleasure. Your eyes roll back as your hands desperately grip the couch cushions. A few more thrusts and you’re coming undone, screaming out your release. He follows close behind you, letting go of your hair to grab your hips again. His fingers bite into you as he pulls you back against him, trapping you to him as he fills you.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his voice raw and his hands trembling at your hips. You both still for a moment and your brain finally starts to realize what you’ve just done. But in the throbbing, warm throes of your afterglow you can’t seem to bring yourself to care how truly fucked up this situation is. When he finally releases his vice-like grip on your hips you groan at the loss of contact.

The chuckle that he gives is warmer than any of the others so far, and he gives your ass a final squeeze that you could almost consider affectionate before he steps away.

“Yes, I think we’ve come to a satisfying agreement.”

-----

I don't know what came over me last night, but this was the result. I've never written smut before, but I sure have read a lot so hopefully it's enjoyable.

#william afton is a pervy old man and that's how i like him #look im not here for the serial killer to be nice to me #william afton x reader #william afton x you #william afton smut #fnaf smut #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #william afton #matthew lillard #fanfic #fnaf fanfic #mochi writes

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mochiswifey · 8 months

Text

FINE LINE

Kanji Mochizuki CHAPTERS

Mature Themes

"What are you doing today?" Kanji asked me as he sat down on my bed. I roll my eyes mentally as I put my hair into a ponytail.

None of your motherfucking business, I wanted to say. But I'm trying to be a better person.

"Get your fucking dirty ass out of my goddamn room." Well, I didn't mean to say that. I looked back and he had a very well startled face. He didn't look offended he just looked surprised. I started laughing and his face softened.

"I'm just joking. I'm so sorry." I apologize as I finish tying my hair. I adjust the ribbon before walking towards my full body mirror twirling around liking how pretty I look.

"You look pretty." He says and I'm not gonna lie. It surprised me.

"Arigatou, Kanji-kun."

"So, where are you going?" From the mirror, I see him standing up from the bed and walking towards me. I look back at him and see him smiling.

What the fuck?

"Do you wanna go out together?" He asks.

"Fuck no."

"Eh?" His smile faded. I chuckled before walking toward my night stand, I took my phone and wallet checking to make sure I have enough money.

"I'm going out with my Senpai. She's picking me up."

"What time are you coming back? Maybe we could dine somewhere? Peninsula Hotel-"

"I'm sure you'd find someone who can accompany you. How about Kazuko? She's your second favorite wasn't she?" He knew that I was aware of Rina's existence but he didn't know the extend of my knowledge about his affairs.

Rina, Kazuko, and finally Meika. His favorites.

"I'll dine with you someday. I'll even cook for us since I'm on a diet."

"Diet? Your body is thin enough."

Well, an eating disorder doesn't think so.

"I'm getting late. I'll see you when I see you." I bid my farewell before hurrying out of our shared penthouse. After the incident he's been trying to repent for every bullshit he has done.

Cheating, neglect, for trying to kill me, and lastly for choosing his mistress over me when he needed to save one of us.

I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts as I enter the elevator. There's no use to overthink.

Life is unfunny when you become serious.

"What's up?" My senpai Jess greets me. I tell her I'm fine before entering her car.

We met through my part time job and bonded over our broken family. She doesn't know I'm affiliated with Kanji and I'd like to keep it that way.

"How are you doing? And, also it's a little late but happy birthday!" I almost teared up. I forgot about my own birthday.

"Thank you!" I say before leaning to hug her.

We went around Tokyo. Since we're broke we mostly window shopped and we didn't dare to go inside any luxury brands. Around 1pm we got hungry and decided to settle and eat Indian Curry.

I felt uneasy and eyes watching over us. I didn't want to scare Jess so I said nothing. She was supposed to drop me off by my own apartment but I can't afford to let Kanji know where I live out of our shared penthouse. At least, for a little bit longer.

We said goodbye and I intentionally used one of the dangerous roads. I knew he'd be furious because not even a minute after walking in one of the tunnels his scent hit me and not long after I was pinned against the wall. His hands pushed my shoulders against the concrete walls of the tunnel.

The way my spine was pushed against them hurts but it's better than trying to do sit-ups.

He was breathing heavily as he looked down upon me. I didn't dare look up for a few moments but knew I had to because if I didn't he won't speak and we won't go anywhere other than to stand here like idiots.

"Are you stupid? Walking dress like that? In a tunnel like this? At this fucking time." He yells and I almost chuckle. I debated whether to plaster a startled oh gosh! I didn't expect you'd be here! Type of face.

"Almost no one uses this road! What-"

"Don't be angry. Being angry is tiring." I tell him and placed my hands on his chest trying to push him away.

"How can't I? You decline my offer, you don't tell your friend you have a husband, and you walk around Tokyo like you don't have people trying to harm you."

I would've already been in my house showering if he hadn't followed me and Jess. I noticed him when we were goofing around inside an accessory store. We were taking photos in the mirror. And he photobombs us from across the store.

"I wanna go home. I'm tired." He sighed before letting me go. I didn't argue when he said he'd take us home.

"楽しかった？Did you have fun?" He asked me after I put my seatbelt on. I simply nodded and leaned back.

"よかった. That's good." He smiled at me before he started driving.

"普通の会話ってこれ？Is normal conversation this?" I asked him out of nowhere.

”急に何？What out of sudden? 普通の会話じゃない会話って何？What's a not normal conversation?" He threw the question back at me amusement written all over his dumbass face.

I don't think he understands my question.

What I meant to ask is, is this the type of normal convo married people have? Asking questions like "Did you have fun?" After you go out with your friends?

"何でもない。It's nothing."

"まだ時間早いからどっか行く？It's still early, do you wanna go somewhere?" He asked me but he was already taking a turn away from our penthouse.

"Can you please drive us around Tokyo Rainbow Bridge?" He probably didn't expect my request.

"I don't mind." He was more than happy.

"You're from Kawasaki right?" I asked him and he nods. These is the questions you ask on the first or second date not years after your marriage.

"There are few places that I like. Legoland, Universal Studio Japan, the Rainbow Bridge, ummm the shopping outlet at Gotemba, beaches, and Chinatown. How about you?"

"I like my first ever gang's hideout." I try to show interest by reacting like the hostesses from the clubs he goes to.

"みさきがさぁお気に入りな場所二人で行きたい。Your favorite places, I want us two to go there together." He tells me as his left hand lands on my knee. I jump and tried to hid my discomfort by looking out of the window.

We enter the highway and he starts to rub his hand in a circular motion.

"時間あったら行こうね。When there's time let's go." When girls say that in Japan it means they don't like you.

His hand moved up to my thigh. No. This is not happening. I took his hand and held it tightly between my hands. He didn't look at me and kept his eyes on the road but I knew he noticed my actions.

I'm stuck between not wanting to offend him but I'll choose my comfortability over his ego.

"ごめん、寒かったから。Sorry, I was cold." It's fucking summer.

"言い訳がヘボ。Your excuses are lame." I called him out and he burst out laughing.

"It's not that lame."

"It is! Your hands are cold? Think of a better one."

"Is it bad if I admit I want to touch you?" My cheek heats up. I know I shouldn't be feeling like this. Not with him or any other men in our world. But it's unlike him to say something and sounds like he really meant it.

"Shut up." I let go of his hand and he placed it right back on my knee.

"いい景色。What a nice view." I say complimenting the lights of the big buildings seen from the Rainbow Bridge.

"俺？ありがとう。Me? Thank you."

”お前じゃないよ. Not you."

We laughed together and I wondered how much till I faced heart ache again. I give it a good 2 days.

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stargirlstabber · 2 months

Text

being bontens prized possession means sitting in their lap during in a meeting while the remote to the vibrator in your cunt gets passed around. better try to be quiet if you don't want to be punished.

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mochiroreo · 2 months

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And I will fuck you like nothing matters

Dark!reader x Rafe Cameron

TW: M18+ NON-CON, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, implied heavy smut at the end, degradation, non-consensual use of drugs, mentions of rape and domestic violence, mean!rafe, psycho!dark!reader, non-consensual recording (sorry not sorry rafe lol)

Author’s note: I am back just to post this blurb cause I love dark!Rafe but I also want to read something about the reader being the unhinged, pyscho one 🤭 . Also, this is unedited so if you see some wrong grammar or wrong spelling.. no you didn’t.

“Hmm..” a dull, throbbing pain made him tightly closed his eyes. His body feeling heavy and sluggish. He felt like he slept in a wrong position for two days, with how his muscles are aching. He was about to stretch and move his arms when he felt a tug that restricted his movements.

“Wait.. wha—?” The sensation made Rafe open his eyes, his baby blues scanning the room in utter confusion. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light, looking up at his wrists tied together above him, and his legs tied to the bed frame. “What the fuck..?” He mumbled in a slurred manner, his baby blues darting around the room before feeling the bed dipped beside him.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Rafe immediately looked up, his breath slightly hitching with how close your face is.

“A-angel?” He whispered his nickname for you, confusion more evident on his face now with his brows scrunched up. “How— why—“ Rafe’s questions were cut off by your giggle, airy and as if the whole situation is amusing, making his jaw tick in irritation.

For him, maybe it’s not as amusing. For you, however, it is definitely the highlight of your life.

“What are you doing? You think this is funny?” He asked, voice low and threatening, as if he is not the one tied down tightly on your bed right now. You just looked at him with a soft smile, a soft hand landing on his forehead to smooth the creases between his eyebrows before affectionately running your hand through his buzzed hair.

“Oh no, Rafey. I just think this suits you..” you words hanged onto the air, making him anticipate what’s next. “After all, isn’t this what you had planned for me? I just switched up who will be the victim.” You answered, ignoring the slight widening of his eyes with your answer.

His heart was thumping loudly inside his chest now, feeling the rope’s roughness that bound both his wrists and ankles. “W-what? I don’t— I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” Rafe looked straight into your eyes, trying to convince you. Yet your smile sent a chill down his spine.

“What do you mean? I know your plan silly!” You giggled, biting your bottom lip which made the boy gulp. “I am very much aware of the Kook king’s personal life and the rumours surrounding you, you know. The rape allegations at the parties after slipping some drugs on their drinks. Or maybe asking them to drink a bit too much. I have also heard how much you have punched and kicked your previous girlfriends.. lucky that your daddy knows how to bail you out!”

Your eyes travelled down Rafe’s disheveled state, the buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a slither of tan skin underneath. His taut muscles evident as he squirms to move. While you were distracted, Rafe tried to free himself, struggling as the rope got tighter and tighter the more he tried to escape.

“Where was I? Oh! And so— I have heard from Topper how it’s now my “time” apparently. Then there you were! In front of my house, asking me to drink with you cause you were feeling lonely. I knew you slipped a drug on my drink,, so I have beat you to it and knocked you out.” You admitted with a shrug, moving away to stand up while still watching Rafe closely.

“You’re fucking crazy. I-I didn’t even— wasn’t planning to do anything!” Rafe tried to reason out, gritting his teeth when the rope wouldn’t budge.

“Really? Cause the rope that I used was from the back of your truck. I even found some little baggies.” You inserted your hand inside your bra, the action making Rafe stare straight to your chest and take in what you are wearing.

You wore white lacy set of lingerie, hugging the swell of your breasts and thighs, accentuating every dips and curves as if you were carves by the gods to look like a literal angel on earth.

Except, you are holding every variety of drugs that Rafe owns with a big smile.

Each bag has some different sized pills and powders, which you were sure were party drugs and coke from his drug dealer best friend, Barry.

“Now come on, Angel. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t touch what’s not yours? You don’t even know shit about drugs or-or how expensive those are!” He groaned, unable to do anything. Rafe is at his limit, his patience running thin as he think of the things he will do once he breaks free from the ropes, promising to himself that he will definitely fuck you to the point that you’ll beg him to stop plowing your abused cunt. Your appearance and his imagination making his thick cock hard despite his anger.

“Hmm.. I know which drugs is which. I think I stalked you enough to know which one is your favourite other than coke.” Moving closer, you brushed your hair away from your face. “And to be honest. I thought you would have more.” You grabbed a bottle of water on the bedside table before straddling Rafe’s chest.

The action made Rafe’s shorts tighter with how painfully hard he is, his point of view accentuating your breasts, seeing your nipples perky from the cold air inside the room. Once again, he struggled with the intention of trying to free himself to grab you and slap the shit out of you while drilling his cock to your wet pussy, he gritted his teeth and whispered menacingly.

“Now now, Angel. We can do this without the rope.. you know? If I have known you were a little freaky.. I would have asked you properly instead of what I was planning to do.” His words made chuckle, raking your manicured nails on his chest, making him let out a low groan.

“But where’s the fun in that?! Besides it would be unfair to just let you do that.. knowing how much you’ve been a bad boy here in Outer banks..” leaning forward, you balanced yourself and gripped his arms, slightly rutting your clothed core on his stomach. The action made Rafe groan, his anger disappearing as he thinks that you are just a closeted little freak that is now removing your disguise to fuck him. Rafe’s hips were bucking slightly, loving the hazy look in your eyes as he lets you to revel on the power you have over him right now.

“This is exciting, but I want to make it wayyy more pleasurable for us two.” Dragging your tongue on his collarbone, you moved away to grab one of the baggies containing some neon pink and green pills making Rafe eye you suspiciouslly. As far as he remember, he did not order some odd looking pills from Barry.

Grinning at him like the devil, you took two from the bag before going back to your position, your left hand tracing the bottom of his lips as you bite your own. Rafe’s lips parted, his pink tongue slightly peeking, urging you to lean down and finally kiss him.

The kiss was hot and messy, and Rafe kissed you like a man starved. His tongue immediately invading your mouth, savouring the slight dominance that he has knowing that he cannot escape your bed to flip you over. Rafe was so into the kiss that he did not feel both of your hands wrap around his neck.

Your hands were getting tighter and tighter, making him pull back with wide eyes that is staring right straight to your in panic.

“A-angel— hey hey..!” He tried to fully scream at you, nails slowly digging into the flesh of his neck. Rafe was slowly running out of air, his vision swimming in the dark while looking at you smiling so gently to him as if you aren’t choking him to death right now. His lips parted in a silent scream, before you let go to forcefully shove the pills down his throat which almost made him puke.

You let go once the pills were stuck down his throat, Rafe immediately heaving and gasping for air, making the pills slide down with his spit. He didn’t waste any time to steady his breathing, immediately screaming at your face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH, I WILL FUCKING RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND YOUR FUCKING PUSSY IF I GET OUT OF HERE! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” His neck was red, veins popping out from him screaming directly on your face. You faked a sniffle, eyes slightly watering before you broke into a laugh.

“Woah calm down, pretty boy!” You managed to squeeze out as you continue to laugh, making Rafe jolt with the want to punch you down and force himself on you. “I just want to make sure you drink the pill candy without a fight.” You stated, offering a water bottle pointed at his lips. His breathing was erratic with anger, nudging the bottle away from his face before it dawned on him.

“Fuck—“ he mumbled. “What the fuck are those pills?!” You just shrugged, shaking your head as you so. “I have enough of your bitchy brat games, you fucking psycho! What the fuck are those pills!” Wiping down the spit that landed on your chest, you sighed giving him a faux pout.

“It’s just something to relax you.. and maybe give you more strength as I use you the whole night?” As if on cue, his cock that went soft with the stunt that you pulled suddenly hardened, blood immediately rushing down south. Rafe’s body slowly started to feel hot, he feels so lightheaded that his eyelids were almost closing on him while he tries not to pant and control his breathing. “Shit shit shit” he mumbled in panic, mind swimming with all the possibilities what the pill might be and what it might do to him.

You cut his thoughts short when you swiftly undressed him, his eyes wide and watery as you blow air on his clothed cock that was immediately weeping before letting it spring free. You thumbed the continuous flow of his pre-cum, making him buck his hips for more. Your touch was cold on his burning skin, a soft whine passing by his lips when you gave his leaking tip one kitten lick.

“Fuck please— what— what did you do to me..?” Rafe whispered softly, slowly losing his mind with the need and desire to feel your mouth, cunt, or your ass on his dick that is now standing proudly against his stomach.

“Nothing really. I told you I’ll make sure to make this more pleasurable for us, didn’t I? Must have been frustrating to be on the receiving end, huh?” Straddling his waist, you move your lacy panties aside to rut it on his cock, his pre-cum making it slide easier on your sopping wet pussy. You continued your actions, ignoring Rafe’s please to let him put his cock in you.

“You know.. I’ve heard how much you wanted me.. how much you think you can ruin me, to manipulate me into your ‘slut’. But I don’t want to be one of those girls that you took advantage of, Rafey. I want to be special, I want something more.” Your body was slowly getting covered with a light sheen of sweat, lips so close besides Rafe’s ear as you lick and tease his ear lobe. Soft whines and gasps escaping your lips before smirking as Rafe tried his best to listen to you despite him slowly losing his mind.

“So I decided to just show you, decided that maybe I’m the one that can break you..” Rafe lets out a deep strangled cry as he cums, body vibrating with the intensity of his ejaculation while he shut his eyes close. “Oh my, you just cummed but you’re still hard, Rafey!” Your statement made Rafe open his eyes weakly, vision slightly blurry with unshed tears, his cock more sensitive that ever.

Your left hand encircled his thick shaft, slowly dragging your palm up and down, making Rafe choked out a sob “‘s too much— please— fuck— ‘s too much” Rafe rambled, making you stop playing with his cock; giving him soft kisses on his cheeks, kissing his tears away. “Oh shush, don’t cry Rafey. I will make you feel good, make you feel so so good.” You whispered against his flushed skin, licking the lone tear that slid down while you console him.

You grabbed the water bottle and popped a pill on your tongue, Rafe watching you with blown out, unfocused eyes. “See? I took one as well!” You stated, slowly getting rid of your lingerie which made Rafe’s cock bob up and down, pre-cum once again leaking out of him despite coming just seconds ago.

“Gonna show you how special I can be, Rafey.” Whispering on his skin while you trail wet kissed down his chest, Rafe sobbed when you lightly bit his nipple, the action making him cum once again. You felt his warm load spatter on your ass, making you giggle.

“ ‘m gonna show you how I can make you feel like a god.” You eyed his drowsy state, drool sloppily pooling on the side of his mouth. Lightly tapping his cheeks, he opened his eyes before you pointed at the red dot on the corner of your room, which he eyed for a moment.

“Don’t forget to smile.”

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