dollsanime-library

[dollsanime-library]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 — 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!sex worker!reader, obvious warning for sex work, shy!reader, cockwarmimg, exhibitionism, age gap ( reader is 18+ but jinkuro and usui are significantly older), mentions / mocking of religious beliefs, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous. written with the same reader in mind as learn the ropes. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

Jinkuro was your benefactor now, and that came with certain privileges you were almost certain had to be against some set of rules, somewhere, that he chose to ignore for the sake of getting to touch you. while the officer generally spent the majority of his time in the Pleasure District, he’d become glued specifically to the house where you worked, and even more specifically, he’d made sure you were always glued to him. 

not that you minded. after all, he was paying for you to live as comfortably as one could in a brothel, without any other customers to concern yourself with; just him. 

“They are feeding you well, yes? Giving you all the gifts I send?” he croons, tilting your head up as you perch on his lap. you’d been smearing your lipstick over his collarbone, giving him lazy kisses. you’d heard him send for Usui and figured that you shouldn’t start anything you couldn’t finish before he needed to get to work. you smile, and nod, dipping your chin to kiss at his fingers as if praising them for the silver he counts out to give to you. 

“Am I wearing them all, as you requested?” 

his dusky, amethyst eyes twinkle, peeking from behind most unruly mauve tendrils, as the line of sight dances over the gems around your throat and sparkling on your earlobes. you had also been sure to dab the perfume he’d sent you on your neck, which he leaned in to sniff at before he planted a kiss on your pulse point. your breath caught in your throat and you leaned back on his lap. 

“Like a very, good girl.” he purrs, tracing his tongue over your skin. you imagine he’s sketching the characters of his own name, claiming you further. “Now say thank you.” 

you were still not used to being doted on so passionately, so sometimes your gratitude was overwhelmed by bashfulness. “Th—thank you for the gifts, Lord Jinkuro!” you yipped when you felt his teeth scrape at your shoulder. both of his hands pressed against your lower back to rub your bare cunt against his crotch. you could feel the weight of his hard on through the thin fabric that keeps it imprisoned. 

you weren’t fully nude, yourself. with your kimono knotted loosely, the shoulders slipped down your arms, creating a heart-shaped neckline to expose the tops of your breasts. and, as you straddled his lap, the split exposed your thighs. you didn’t mind, though, because it was just you and him. 

until the screen door slid open. “Isarizawa.”  it was Usui’s gentle, but very blunt greeting, before he steps inside, and the woman pushed the screen closed again. 

peeking around your shoulder after a moment, you see Usui sitting on his knees, his face an unreadable, yet soft visage. as if he were deep in thought about something that only he could understand. it wasn’t your first time meeting Usui; you’d seen him in passing, as Jinkuro called on him often to meet in the private rooms of the Pleasure House, and you didn’t think he looked as scary as most of the men that came in and out of it. however, there was something just behind the politeness, his genteel way of talking. you couldn’t put your finger on it, but he didn’t seem to be as harmless as his soft features made him look. Jinkuro had only solidified this creeping suspicion when you’d asked him one night, wrapped in his arms, what kind of a man Usui was. ‘He only ever comes to the Pleasure District when you call for him,’ you’d observed, snuggling close to your master with your breasts smashed against his chest. ‘What sort of a man avoids the brothels like he does?’ 

‘A religious one.’ 

you wanted to contest that. you’d seen too many monks make their way through the doors that caged you, too many priests. but Jinkuro wore an expression that told you that you didn’t understand what he meant. 

‘I’m not fond of hearing you talk about other men,’ he’d taunted, mostly to change the subject as he rolled over on top of you, pinning you to the floor. leaning close, he’d allowed his tiers to ghost over yours before he murmured, ‘Let’s find a task to put that pretty mouth to.’ 

looking back now, you’d realized that he hadn’t truly been all that jealous, he simply knew something about Usui that he didn’t want to share with you. or, perhaps, they were his own suspicions. you supposed it didn’t matter. Usui was never unkind. though he didn’t smile at you, he did make eye contact, which was more than what most of Jinkuro’s visitors did. usually, they licked their lips as their filthy eyes scraped over your frame when you kept close to Jinkuro’s side. they would, without fail, mention how grateful they would be if he were generous enough to share you at least once, but he’d always refused. 

but Usui had never once looked at you like that. he’d never once fixed his mouth to ask for your services. his eyes didn’t linger lower than your face. 

“Usui, punctual as ever.” Jinkuro joked, before adding, “It seems like you must’ve already been in the neighborhood.” 

Usui didn’t even smile at that. instead, he answered simply. “I try not to keep you waiting, I know how busy you can be.” his eyes flicker from you to Jinkuro, and then back, knowingly. 

your cheeks warm up with a tender blush, and you look down to Jinkuro’s pipe on the floor. it was empty. you could make yourself useful and fetch his tobacco. sliding off of his lap, you reach for it, only to find his hands around your waist. “I’m not quite finished with you yet, sweetheart.” he murmured. 

“I—“ sheepish, you stand up straight. you’re facing Usui now, your hands reaching down to hold on to Jinkuro’s, “I just thought… I should get something for you to smoke.” you offer, “Allow you a moment of privacy— oh!” 

you let out a gasp of surprise when Jinkuro plucks you from your feet and sits you back on his lap, pressing your back to his chest. you brace yourself against his knees, trying to keep your own as tight against his thighs as you could so as to keep from exposing yourself to Usui. 

“Smoke?” Jinkuro guffaws. 

“She’s quite thoughtful.” Usui observes— it seems that he knows what your true intentions were. to slink out of the room and give them a moment to talk in private. it was as if everything they discussed was confidential, and while you admittedly didn’t understand most of it, you also were somewhat certain you shouldn’t be hearing it. “You must be thrilled to have someone so eager to tend to you.” 

Jinkuro quirks a brow. a wicked thought must’ve deeper into his mind due to his throbbing erection that you’ve yet to do anything about. “She’s very good at tending to me,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss at your neck. the tickling sensation distracts you from his shifting, one hand sliding underneath your butt to pull his cock free. “Is that right, little one?” 

you’re blushing, embarrassed, but you swoon nonetheless, and nod. “Y—yes sir…” 

“Would you like a chance to prove it?” 

there’s a moment between his question and the answer you’re given, where you want to ask how you possibly can. however, when you feel the thick tip of his cock, underneath your kimono, slapping at your slick, you stifle a humiliated squeal. “S—sir!” you whisper, eyes big when he slips it in, pulling you back to fit you in place on his lap. 

if Usui was watching the display, then he was incredible at hiding any reaction he might’ve had. not even a twitch of his eyebrow as you whimpered, sitting on Jinkuro’s lap, full of thick, hard cock. 

Jinkuro rumbles deep in his chest, a pleased moan as he nests, throbbing in your guts, one hand reaching around to tug at the knot holding your clothes together. “Did you know you’re twice as tight when you’re being shy?” he teases, and when the fabric falls aside, exposing your body completely to his guest, you whine. he’s there, though, to suck hard on your neck before his tongue lazes out, tracing a line up to your earlobe so he can moan into it, “Twice as wet, too. Do you enjoy squeezing my cock while Usui watches?” 

“It’s… embarrassing…” you mewl, reaching up to shield your breasts from Usui. you weren’t sure why— he wasn’t gawking at them. you would just feel better if you had some sort of shield. 

Jinkuro hums, playfully thoughtful, but leans back against the back of the couch, grabbing your wrists to pry your arms from your chest and pin them to your sides. you could feel the tip of him prodding at your belly; you imagined there was a faint lump against it, proving that you were as full as you possibly could be. “What do you think, Usui? Should my little pet be embarrassed?” 

Usui doesn’t so much as flinch, “Of course not.” he answers, although you suspect he does so because offending Jinkuro wouldn’t be beneficial for him. his eyes lock on to yours, but his voice is soft and reassuring, “She has nothing to be embarrassed about when she serves her master.” 

sheepish, you look away. somehow, that made you feel even more humiliated, knowing he probably doesn’t truly feel that way. if he was as religious as Jinkuro led you to believe, perhaps he found this whole display utterly repulsive. it bothered you that you might never know for sure. 

“Perhaps you enjoy watching, Usui.” Jinkuro murmurs. he was teasing him, but there was a hint of maliciousness behind his words. you always knew the two of them had a rather delicate coexistence, though you didn’t know why, but Jinkuro always seemed more stressed than relieved after his meetings with Usui. as if he were on the brink of discovering something horrible that would turn the fragile balance of Nagasaki on its head. “I’ve seen the glances you steal. You must fantasize about being in a position just like me.” 

“L—Lord Jinkuro—“ you grip his thighs tightly with your restrained hands. every time he jerks while he talks, or lets out a booming laugh, he jabs into your belly, grinds against your sensitive, interior nerves. you were trying not to moan, loud and pathetic, each time. 

Usui doesn’t answer. so, Jinkuro continues. “You can’t tell me that church of yours controls even your thoughts. When you look at something so fuckable, like my precious, little toy here—“ with one hand fleeing to your face, Jinkuro angles it towards Usui, and you blush madly, biting down on your lip to stifle a happy moan when his hips jut forward. whether he meant to or not, it felt good, and your eyelids fluttered. “You want to be the one stretching out her soft, warm pussy. Don’t you?” 

Usui stares at your expression, and you notice an inkling of something new in his eyes. the tiniest, briefest glimmer of what could’ve been hunger, when your tongue threatens to hang out of your mouth. your eyes want to cross. just being full of Jinkuro is enough to cause your mind to melt into a state of wanting to be completely fuckdumb. it’s humiliating, but you can’t help it. 

“I’ll admit you’re a very lucky man,” Usui says, his tone surprisingly even considering the way his eyes had looked just then. even if it was only for a second, you could feel the intensity behind it, and what intentions might’ve crept into his mind. “But you knew that already. Didn’t you?” 

Jinkuro beams, leaning forward again. this time, you squirm on his lap, and call for him again. “I’d be a fool if I didn’t know it.” he muttered, and kisses the side of your mouth. 

“Sir… please…” 

“Shhh, shh,” he hums, allowing his hand to fall to your hip and hold you in place, flush against his groin. you could feel the heat of his balls smashing against your sex and you know he’s as deep as he can go, it only makes you want to allow your head to drop back and expel a loud, long cry of his name. like you always did. “Be a good girl and endure it for me,” he whispers, like a prayer in your ear. you’re already nodding, trying to convince yourself that you can. “And I’ll fuck your greedy, little cunt so good you’ll see stars once the meeting’s over.” 

oh, god, you truly went mad for that promise. your nails dug into his thighs and you nodded again. “Y—yes sir! I’ll—I’ll be good!” 

“Always so shy, but I can tell you like to show off, just like I do.” Jinkuro chuckles, and glances at Usui, as if challenging him. “Next time, you should bring your little samurai friend along. The one that always wears that sour look on his face. I’ll put her on back and the two of you can watch her scream when I pound her properly.” 

Usui glances, briefly, at you, before looking back at him. his expression doesn’t change, but you get the feeling he’s considering it. he’d already gotten a glimpse of what you looked like desperate, and you can’t deny that for a moment ( if only that ), he looked like he was intrigued. 

“It’s certainly worth considering.” 

[dollsanime-library]

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 — 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!sex worker!reader, obvious warning for sex work, shy!reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), cuckquean for like a second, loss of virginity, use of the words lord, sir, little girl, age gap ( reader is 18+ but jinkuro is significantly older ), group sex, unnamed fem!characters, praise kink, reader is a pillow princess, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ can i please PLEASE bribe y’all with filth to watch Revenger because i love it so much and nobody’s talking about it. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

“All she does is watch or something?” 

your cheeks were on fire. eyes wide, watching every minuscule movement of muscle under his flesh as they contract. there was a rosy tint in his cheeks that seemed to spread over the expanse of his heaving chest, but it had mostly dissipated into his normal tan by the middle of his abdomen. his robes draped lazily down his arms and bunched at the elbows, but your gaze was sutured below that, watching a stripe of glistening hair below his navel as it danced to the rhythm in which he fucked the woman on her hands and knees in front of him. 

you could’ve watched him disappear, inch by inch, into her and listen to the way she cried out when he stuffed her full, but you were much too sheepish for that. 

she and the other woman, the one that sucked on Jinkuro’s neck, were both your senior by more than a couple of years, and had agreed to the Head Mistress’ request to show the brand new recruit how to please some of their highest profiled customers, including Jinkuro Isarizawa. you only thought you’d been brought along to watch and learn, but it wasn’t until they sat you on your knees on the floor that they presented you as a gift for him. Mistress’ graces, she would give your virginity away for free to the most influential man in the Pleasure House. 

“She’s a little shy.” the woman crooned in Jinkuro’s ear, dragging her blood, red nails down his chest. “After all, she’s never seen a big, strong man fuck like you do. Let the professionals wear you down, Lord Jinkuro. We’ll have her finish you off?” 

Jinkuro quirked a brow, slamming himself home in the other, and she cried out, grasping the cushion of the couch she was propped against, her knees scraping on the floor. you stared, nervously, hoping that your first time wouldn’t be nearly as rough as he was with her. but, you noticed her eyes crossing, a faint smile on her painted lips. 

did it… did it really feel good? 

his eyes burned holes in you, and you were tempted to shy away from his stare, both hands clasped together in your lap, pressing hard to keep your thighs from trembling. 

“Are you jealous of her? Don’t you want to come over here?” he croons, tilting his head to one side as he takes note of the way you bit your lip. he thrusts again, this time the sound of his skin smacking against hers only barely drowns out her yelp of pleasure. “Don’t you want some attention, too?” 

you wanted to nod immediately. the way your sisters had been moaning and dazed, worshiping his cock since the moment they could pounce on him, it made you curious. it made you wistful. you longed to know what magic spell he’d cast on them. but, you don’t answer just yet. your eyes raise to catch one of their gazes from behind his shoulder as if to ask for permission and she looks apprehensive. 

you knew it wasn’t out of care for you, but rather, concern that you might not be skilled enough to please him. and would, in turn, sully their compensation. 

“I’m the one speaking to you.” Jinkuro interrupts your silent communication, humming. he shifts to press his palm against the back of her head and guide it down the length of his abdomen, coaxing her to lick and suck on his balls while he stilled inside the other, leaving you without a senior to look to for advice on what to say or do. “You should be looking at me.” 

“I—“ you couldn’t even think. you wanted to say something, but the moment you looked up into his eyes, you lost your breath. the other two were moaning, one pushing back to fuck herself on him, and the other slurping on the join between them. the room smelled like sweat, and he was waiting on you to answer, but his smile was simply too unarming. so, instead, you sink your teeth into your lower lip and nod, hopelessly flustered. 

but his grin only widened to one of cheshire proportions, one eye peeking knowingly and glinting with devious intent from behind his unruly mop of dusky mauve. “Stand up, walk over here to me. Make it real slow and sexy for me, pretty girl.” 

you wanted to please him. you didn’t know why, but you scrambled to your feet with a desperate urge to earn his praise, and with all of the self control you could muster, you sauntered over, your hands shaking at your sides so you grip the skirt of your kimono, instead. Jinkuro watched you the whole time, pupils blown out and hungry, his eyeline falling to your feet and back up again until you were within his arm’s reach. 

he does, in fact, reach out and grab you. with one, massive paw outstretched, the officer tilts your chin towards him, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. “That’s a good girl. You must be so desperate for a reward.” his grin was drooping into a lazy, lusty smirk that held its shape when he pried your kimono open, exposing your soft breasts. you gasped when the cold air swept over you, and his palm slipped underneath the material to press against your lower back and careen your frame closer; his parted lips latching on to your supple breast. “Mmm…” 

“L—Lord Jinkuro!” it was a stanmer of surprise, that melted into a happy mewl, your back arching against his palm to rub your breasts against his face. 

you were already wet; you could feel his teasing with teeth and tongue as he tested the sensitivity of one nipple, and then the other pooling in your lower belly, and you rub your thighs together to attempt to relieve the pressure building there. his hand was warm and big against your back, pushing you as flush with his face as he could, and when he sealed his lips around your bud and suckled hard, you felt your knees try to buckle underneath you. digging them inward to press into one another, you suck in a shaky breath, and one of your hands plants itself against his hot shoulder. you wanted to dig your nails in and hold on, keep yourself standing by gripping his sturdy foundation, but you aren’t sure if he’d permit you to do that. 

his free hand, as if spurred by your awkward positioning and flustered panting, slips underneath what remains hidden behind the sagging fabric and worms between your thighs to feel how wet he’s made you. when you leave a slick coating on his fingers, he rumbles, happily, in the back of his throat. tilting his head back, he allows your breast to pop free of his mouth, and his heavily-lidded eyes peek from under his bangs. his cheeks were still red, and they matched the shiny, plush of his mouth as it curls into a devious smile. “I can tell you’re fresh,” he croons rubbing the pads of his fingers between your folds. they were rough, and he was pressing hard, and you loved every moment of it. you practically melt against his hand, whimpering and rocking your hips. “No other man has ever even seen this soft, little pussy, have they?” 

your face is on fire. you’re humiliated by the idea that you’re not experienced, but something about the edge in his baritone and the excited twinkle in his eye gives you a rush. clues you in. 

he’s happy he gets to be your first. 

you shake your head, uttering a shaky, “N—no, Lord Jinkuro…” 

but you needn’t answer at all, you realize, because he’s already acting. pulling his hand free, he uses both to strip you bare, before he grabs hold of the flare of your hips and sweeps you off your feet. both in awe and nervous of his strength, you whimper as you’re boosted into the air, bringing your knees up towards your chest when he lays you across the back of the woman on her knees. it was such a calculated move, you realize, because when you lay there, with your back against hers, he’s perfectly positioned to rest his hands on your knees and spread them open. you whimper softly, but comply with his strength, your hands sliding down to hold the backs of your thighs, keeping yourself wide and exposed. 

“How do you like her, Lord Jinkuro?” the woman beneath you purred, shoving herself back against his groin. thus, pushing your exposed treasure closer as if offering you to him. 

Jinkuro simpers, pressing his thumbs against your sticky lips to tease them apart. you squirm, toes curling, and whisper his name, but he’s already hunched over to get a better look. eye level with your cunt, his lips moving only inches away, you could feel his hot breath on it, and you shivered. “Such a pretty, little pussy.” he murmurs, ticking your lower belly with the ends of his wild tresses as he leans closer to drag his lips over your slick. “Can’t help but want to kiss it.” 

“S—sir—“ you were staring, wide eyed, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the jolt of pleasure you felt when his tongue darted out from between the seal of his couplet and flicked at your clit. your hips rocked forward, humping towards his face, and he took the hint, nuzzling his nose into your clit so he could lick several, hungry stripes between your netherlips. the first moan you elicit is unsteady and overflowing with lust. both hands fell from your thighs and, as if on instinct, grabbed hold of his hair. 

“It seems I’ve found what you like,” he rumbles against your flesh, peeking up at you from his new dwelling between your hips. you glance down, sheepishly scrunching your nose when you realize just how filthy the visage is, “you want to be pampered. Is that it?” 

“Yes sir…” 

“You want me to make you feel good?” with one hand resting on your lower belly, the other creeps up underneath his jaw as he asks you, slipping his middle finger into you. he groans out loud when he feels your walls spasm around the girth of his digit and you tug on his hair. “Want me to do all the work?” 

even pursing your lips, you can’t help the pitiful sound that escapes them. your brows knit together; the sensation of his finger jabbing into otherwise uncharted territory had you utterly flustered. 

“Answer him, sweetie.” the woman supporting your weight crooned, “Tell Lord Jinkuro how you want him to fuck you.” 

“I— I want you to make me feel good, sir!” 

Jinkuro was already back to it, his mauve mop bobbing as he licks you up and down, giving special attention to your hypersensitive nub when he could, and pumping his finger knuckle-deep into you. your back arches off of hers, squealing with an overwhelming wave of ecstasy, and the soles of your feet rest against his shoulders. he was devouring you like a man starved, slurping on your clit until the pressure had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, but you knew better than to try and push him away with your feet on him. so, you bucked and rocked and whimpered while he ate away, and before long, his middle finger joins the first inside, stretching you around their width. 

it’s a gradual, manageable burn, but you whined nonetheless. it felt like ropes in your belly, tying knots and pulling them tight. “Gonna make you cum hard, little girl.” he muttered against your sex, twisting his fingers before they curl to scrape at an internal bundle of nerves. “Gonna give you your very first big one so you’re nice and tender, clenching air and begging when I want to put my cock in.” 

“Lord Jin—kuro!” your stomach aches. the muscles in your thighs are tight and cramping. you know something big is churning and bubbling in your depths but the feeling is so new to you that nothing can prepare you for how hard it’ll hit. “I—I think—I’m… I’m going to…!” 

you couldn’t say it before he ripped it out of you, and you’re swirling in a whirlpool of fierce pleasure, trapped with his mouth sealed against your folds so he can suck and nibble on your swollen clit. his fingers worked just as diligently inside, too, driving themselves relentlessly into the nerves that had you bucking your hips and yelping for him like a desperate pup. 

“There she is.” Jinkuro hums as he finally pries his mouth from you, sitting up straight, he admires the way you hump, helplessly, into the air against his rough pumping. you could see your own juices dripping from his lips, smeared over his chin, sticking flyaway hairs to his cheeks, and you look away, bashful. “That’s a pretty sight. Got you nice and needy, didn’t I?” slowly, Jinkuro pulls his fingers out, and you whine in protest at the stomach-turning sensation of your walls gripping air. you call for him, sheepish, but he’s already wrapping his strong arms around your waist, supporting your lower back, and picking you up again. it was as if you weighed nothing at all to him, as he cradled you close enough to give you a sloppy kiss, allowing  you to taste yourself in his mouth, before he lay you on your back on the floor. 

the others, now out of his reach, clamored for attention, too. or maybe, he required them to be this needy, but you doubted it. because you felt the same urge to have his eyes on you. if he were to even look at either of them, you might pout. thankfully, he doesn’t. “Play with each other until I’m ready for you again,” he murmured to one that had slinked up at his side and leaned in to kiss him. “I want her to myself.” you were staring, lying on your back, trying not to thrust your hips into the air and beckon him to touch you again. you could tell by the reluctance on her features that she didn’t want to go, either, but she does, crawling over to the other and grabbing her, she plants a deep kiss on her lips. you find yourself watching them, and it wasn’t until you felt that familiar warmth of his thumb on your lip, fingers curling under your chin, that you follow his guidance and stare up at him again. “Look at me, pretty thing.” 

his free hand slides over your belly, down to your cunt, and he allows the rough pad of his thumb to scrape over your clit, watching as you jolt upwards again. you were starting to think he was getting off on seeing just how much he could make you writhe underneath him. 

“I bet you can feel those clenches,” he whispers, eyes tracing every inch of your sticky sex, “you can’t make them stop, can you?” 

you shake your head, watching him hover over you. you were intimidated, but also excited. he was sparkling with sweat and bulging muscles, perched on his knees with his cock hard and pointing up against his bellybutton, dripping from the last woman he’d fucked. it was thick, and the thought of it pushing its way inside of you has your stomach churning. but you want it. 

“That’s your sweet, little pussy begging for cock.” he hums with his signature, wicked grin. “My cock.” abandoning his rubbing, he grabs hold of himself at his base and guides the bulbous, red tip to your folds. you wince, preparing for a painful insertion, but he doesn’t push it in just yet. “I made you cum once,” he purred, swiping his head up and down between your netherlips, bumping your throbbing clit. each time, you twitch and gasp, watching wide eyed, “and you’re already so sensitive. It’s adorable. Once I slip it in, I know you’ll quiver on it and scream real sweet for me.” 

“It’ll— it’ll feel good?” you whisper, watching as he positions himself at your hole once more. you remembered your sister’s face when he pounded her; that drunken, happy smile. and you wanted to feel that for yourself. 

“You’re going to love it, little girl.” Jinkuro assures you, rocking his hips to shove the first couple of inches into you. you cry out, but it’s not in pain. he’s slick enough and you’re already wanton enough that even taking his size for the very first time isn’t uncomfortable. in fact, you’re in awe at just how incredible it feels for your elastic walls to stretch around him. both your hands flee to his abdomen, but you don’t try to push him away. you feel those solid muscles beneath your fingertips. “I can tell,” he coos, grabbing your hips with both hands instead and bucking his own, feeding another inch or so into you, “you’re already addicted to it, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

you nod, mewling with sordid delight, and push yourself closer to him in hopes to convince him to fill you fuller. you can’t help it— maybe you’re just overstimulated, but you hadn’t expected to like it this much. “Y—yes sir!” 

“You want me to fill you up and fuck you?” 

you were nodding before he even finished asking, your eyelids fluttering. 

“How bad?” 

“So bad!” you cry, digging your nails into his abs. you know you probably shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. “Please, please fuck me Lord Jinkuro!” your head rolls against the floor, and you arch your back when he falls into a steady, shallow rhythm, “I—I want to take it all—!” 

“All of it?” he asks, incredulous but proud, and grunts when your walls spasm around his girth, as if answering him. his thumbs dig into your hips, pulling you flush to his groin so he can pound deep instead, and your legs kick haplessly on either side of him. he reaches a depth that could’ve been painful if you weren’t already blissed out, but the pressure it puts on your insides is astounding. “Doing— good, little girl…” he was moaning, holding you in place with your hips angled up off the floor  to meet his to drill himself at that same, incredible depth over and over. each slam of his groin into you sends a ripple through you, jiggling your breasts, and threatening to send you sliding across the floor. but he had you. Jinkuro wasn’t about to let you move even an inch away from his ruthless pounding, and you were begging him for more each and every time he bottoms out. “Taking me like this, as deep and hard as I can fuck you in this tight, little cunt… fuck, you’re a greedy one.” he rasps, adjusting the angle of his jackhammering so he can rubs against your tender, inner walls. his eyes are on the join, where his cock has mostly disappeared, and he smiles wide and open-mouthed as he pants. he watches you grip him at his base, refusing to let him pull out. “I love it.”

your knees were shaking against his ribs, spurring into them until he leaned over, pressing his hot, sweat-soaked torso against yours, effectively pinning your smaller frame to the floor, and then they wrapped around his waist and hooked at your ankles. “Lord Jinkuro!” you cry, but he’s right there to stifle your sounds with a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, forcing his tongue into your cavern. you can still taste your own pussy on his breath, but he pries deeper and you also taste sake and tobacco. gripping his shoulder blades, you cling to him as close as he’ll allow you to, while he fucks you with reckless abandon. “Fuck me, please!” 

there’s that damn bubbling. this time, it feels more like molten lava inching up towards the mouth of an active volcano. he’s battering your insides at such a pace that you’re certain to erupt. “Cumming—“ you manage to choke out into his mouth  this time before you’re overtaken. 

this time, your eyes roll back as wave after wave of furious pleasure knocks into you. Jinkuro is just as brutal as before, controlling the undertow of euphoria that drags you down by never easing up. he bullies you from the inside, driving himself to your limit hard over and over, because he can tell that’s what’s getting you off. “You certainly like being ruined,” he muttered, amusement trickling into his grunting and snorting, “for a shy, little thing, you’re whimpering and moaning like a bitch in heat. You love feeling me in your guts that much?” 

you nod, but even with your mouth open, only half-coherent babbling falls out between strings of shrieking moans. you were squirming, now that you were starting to come down, now much too sensitive to handle another orgasm. “Y—yes sir, I love it. I… love… it…” 

“Keep singing to me,” he groans, closing his eyes. his pace was becoming erratic, needy, and you could only imagine that he was in the brink, too. “Keep going.” 

it was impossible to stop, because every inch of him was throbbing inside of you, and your walls were convulsing in protest, desperate for a break. you moan and purr and cry his name until he comes undone atop you. you’d never seen a man cum before, or hear the vulgar sounds he could make, or feel that release’s warmth spread throughout your belly with each spurt. but experiencing it all for the first time has your head spinning when he finally pulls himself off of you. 

your entire lower half is sore by the time he plops down on the couch and exhales. you slowly pull yourself up on to your knees beside his feet and wiggle in that position, trying to find a comfortable way to sit, but it feels like he’s knocked your organs all out of place, so you ease up off your calves with a soft whine. 

he hears it, and smiles lazily, reaching down to cup your face with one hand. “That pretty pussy a little bit sore?” when you nod, you nuzzle into his palm and he swoons in approval. “I can be gentle next time if you want me to.” 

“I— don’t—“ you reply, your cheeks on fire with a humiliated blush. “I… liked it like that…” 

Jinkuro stares at you for a moment, before slipping his palm around the back of your head. a gentle tug upwards encourages you to get to your feet before him, and you lean over as far as he guides with the pressure on your nape, until he can plant a kiss on your swollen lips. “Go find your mistress.” he instructs. you shift on your feet, nodding obediently, but you can feel the remnants of him oozing from your abused core, sticking your thighs together. “Tell her how pleased I am with her generous gift,” reaching into the pocket of his robe, he retrieves a handful of gold coins and holds them out. with wide eyes, you hold out both hands and he dumps them into your palms. there’s so many that you struggle to hold them all; much more than he would pay for any of the three of you in the room with him— more than the price of having the three of you together. you stare down at the shimmering in your fists and nod again. “And tell her that I want you under contract.” 

“Contract?” you repeat, but your voice is barely above a whisper. 

Jinkuro laughs, hearty and loud, at your naïveté and nods, “Go on. Your sister here can explain it.” with a gesture to one of the women who were both staring, agape, he released your neck. 

she, on the other hand, jumps to her feet with your kimono in hand, and hurries over to wrap you in it. “Right away, Lord Jinkuro.” 

you’re still watching him over your shoulder as she ushers you, and your two fists full of gold, through the screen door. “What sort of contract does he mean?” you ask, boggled by the word itself. 

she practically pushes you down the hall. even though she’s smiling, you can hear an edge of envy in her voice. “Silly girl. You can’t even see how lucky you are with how much gold he put into your hands?” she sighs, and wipes the smear of cherry from your lipstick off of your cheek with her thumb. “He wants you under contract, which means he pays for everything. your food, your clothes, your makeup, the perfume you wear. your room in the brothel, every single thing. And because of that, no other customer can touch you.” 

you look, wide eyed, back down the hall towards the door. you wanted to thank him for his generosity, but you realized you’d have plenty of time to do that, now that he owned you. 

[dollsanime-library]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 — 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, fiancé!giorno, don!giorno, fingering ( f!receiving ), begging, edging ( him ), virgin!needy!reader, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ I AM REWATCHING GOLDEN WIND SO ITS THE PERFECT TIME TO OBSESS OVER GIORNO AGAIN. posted for my hoe for the holidaze event.  do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

Giorno Giovanna was a difficult man to be betrothed to. 

not because he was calloused or paid no attention to you— it was actually the opposite. your fiancé doted relentlessly on you, always allowing you to sit in his office with him while he worked ( even during meetings in which his men would give you uncertain looks as they reported sensitive information to him ), and he’d always reach for your hand, hold it on your knee and allow his thumb to stroke the delicate skin as he spoke. he also loved to kiss you, and he would do so whenever he had a moment to do so. even if there was an emergency that required his immediate attention within the ranks; on his way out the door, he would always take the time to tilt your chin up so that he could trace your couplet with his own. 

and it was this amount of dizzying affection that made it so impossible to keep yourself from lusting after him. 

but Giorno was, first and foremost, one of the most chivalrous men you’d ever met. even with his Gangster status, he was always trying to do the right thing when it came to his future with you. and, unfortunately, one of his intentions had always been to keep your pure and virtuous until the wedding, so as not to shame your family. 

“I don’t want you to regret it.” he’d whispered to you once in the dark as he held you. you’d begged him to just take you already— traditions be damned. he wasn’t having any of it. “I want you to be ready to give yourself to me, and not just physically.” he’d kissed your temple when you grumbled about being ready, and chuckled softly. “Wait it out. If not for yourself, be good for me. I want to love you for the first time knowing you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to satisfy your urges any other way he possibly could. 

“Please, don’t stop.” 

you were whimpering, back arching against the door he had you pinned to. Giorno had one hand pressed into the door behind your head to keep you from hitting it when you squirmed, and the other was moving under your skirt. with the long, lithe fingers you’d come to know so damn well, he could make you tremble and beg until you wanted to collapse on the floor in a heap of pathetic sobs. the first two curled inside, the svelte tips massaging a cluster of hypersensitive nerves that had you rolling your head on your shoulders, pressing it back against the back of his hand, and moaning. 

“D—Don Giovanna—“ 

but he frowns, pressing his forehead to yours. “My name,” he murmurs, allowing his lips to dance only inches from yours as he pumps his fingers deeper. you could feel the chill of metal as his rings, scattered on his remaining digits, press against your netherlips— he’d been considerate enough to take the two off of his fingers he intended to use on you, and they lay forgotten on the large, mahogany desk a few feet away. your hands were gripping his shoulders, but they slid over the expanse of his chest as it rises and falls with heavy breathing. you’d already untangled his braid, and his golden tresses hung around his face and shoulders like curtains, billowing as your ragged breath hits the strands. his shirt was also open, and you use the rare opportunity to dig your nails into the pads of muscles in his chest. “Say my name.” they were unyielding, but you already knew that. you could feel just how solid he was underneath his clothes when he pulled you in for a loving kiss or hugged you close at night. 

“Giorno…” you mewl, rocking your hips forward to meet his skillful pumping. “Giorno!” 

he moans, too. and it’s such a beautiful sound. 

pressing his body closer to yours, he nuzzles his face in your neck to kiss and suck all over, finding your sweetest spots in mere seconds, while his pace between your thighs picked up. you could tell he was enjoying it, too, breathing heavily on your skin before latching on to leave his signature in a love bite that would be easily covered by your collar. 

“Please— let me touch you, too…” you were hesitant, because you could feel him grinding a firm lump in his pants against your thigh, trying to relieve the pressure he felt, but you’d never been able to get your hands on it. but, you allow your hands to fall to his belt, the very tips of your fingernails dipping underneath to tease the faint trail of blonde hair that no doubt led to your desire. “Giorno, I want to feel you…” 

“Not yet,” he whispered, and you gripped his belt, frowning. he must’ve felt you inhale, ready to protest, because he pulls away from your neck to smother your mouth in fierce kisses, curling and twisting his fingers against your fluttering walls until you’re whining and pliable. “I’m dying to be inside you…” he moans into your mouth, pressing his body against yours. you could feel the tent jabbing at his zipper and you know it must be just hardly keeping his erection contained. it must be painful. “I want to feel you, too, amorina,” he crooned, breathless, using your very favorite pet name. “I’m starved for you. I’m just barely able to resist the urge to lay you on my desk. If I even feel your soft hands wrap around me, I’ll lose that battle.” 

your eyelids are heavy, flittering slowly, and you roll your hips to meet the palm of his hand. he was drawing you closer and closer to the edge, and you knew he was trying to distract you. “I want you to fuck me, Giorno.” you moaned, and you could feel every muscle he had go taut beneath his skin. the specter of a pinky blush was raising in his cheeks, olive eyes staring into yours. you take this opportunity to hitch one of your legs on to his hip, hooking your ankle against the small of his back to pull him closer. “I don’t want to wait anymore, please… please just give it to me!” 

Giorno’s mouth hung slack, his hips jutting forward as if instinctively trying to give in to your begging, and he presses your buttons from the inside with the pads of his fingers. your belly ties in knots and you swoon. “I can’t,” he whispered, breathless, and you squirm. you’re coming undone even as he refuses to give you what you really want. “I gave you my word when I put this ring on your finger,” his free hand slips from behind your head to reach between you and grasp your hand, pulling it up to his mouth so that he could kiss the jewel in the center, “that I would do… everything… I could to take care of you. Didn’t I?” 

you nod, moaning his name under your breath like a broken mantra. you wanted to argue, and tell him that you would be better taken care of if he would just strip you down and fuck you right here, right now, but you knew that wasn’t the case. because Giorno didn’t just mean physically. when he promised to take care of you, he meant to keep you safe, fed, spoiled. he wanted to keep your reputation as pristine as it was before you were engaged to the Passione Boss. 

“I intend to keep my promise.” he moans, his golden brows furrowed, as if it also pains him to say it. but Giorno’s resolve is strong, and you know that he means it. he kisses the ring again, and this time, your finger, too. 

“Damn you for being so— responsible—“ you whimper. you tried to poke your bottom lip out into a childish pout, but his digits were working too skillfully on your nerves, pulling the orgasm out of you, and you allow your mouth to hang open so you can cry for him freely. 

he chortles a bit, fondly, and kisses you again to muffle your sounds as you get loud. no doubt, his guards with their heads just on the other side of the door was getting an earful. hell, maybe even Mista would be red faced and unable to look you in the eyes when he escorted you to the car that would take you home to wait for your husband-to-be’s return. his hand slows in tandem with your aftershocks once you’ve cum, allowing you to ride his palm at your speed until you’ve come to a shivering, panting stop. “I’ll give you every ounce of pleasure that I can with my fingers until you’re officially my wife. As often as you’d like.” he husks, slowly breaking the heated kiss to pepper your forehead with a litter of slower, softer pecks. “And, when the night finally comes that I can give every part of myself to you, I promise to worship your body with my mouth, my hands, and my cock until you can’t possibly keep your eyes open or your legs from trembling. Amorina, I promise that, as your husband, I’ll not stop until we’re both in tears.” 

reluctantly, you allow your leg to drop to the floor, but you nod, throwing both arms around his neck, and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Giorno Giovanna,” you purr against his lips, turning your head to allow them to fit better against yours. “Is there no way to change your mind once it’s made up?” 

he smiles again, and shakes his head, both hands finding your waist to hold you steady so he can deepen the kiss you initiated. after a moment or two, he pulls back. “Every time I kiss you, another pebble falls from the wall of my resolve. We’d better hold the wedding soon.” there’s a faint knock, three taps. Mista. he called out to Giorno that the car was here, and Giorno sighs, using his clean hand to caress your cheek. he didn’t want to send you away so soon, but you know he didn’t have a choice. 

nibbling on your own lip, you take his wrist and guide it back beneath your skirt, allowing his fingers to rub against your slick one more time, and gather your essence upon them. “Don’t stop thinking of me.” you demand, batting your eyelashes. when you release his wrist, he brings his hand up to his face and inhales deep. you didn’t miss the way he shudders when he catches your scent on his shiny fingers. 

“I would be the world’s biggest fool if I did.” 

[dollsanime-library]

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 — 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!marleyan!reader, obvious manipulation, reader definitely takes advantage of Reiner’s not so healthy mental state so dub con, mild angst, handjob, needy!sub!reiner, body worship, size kink, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous!! i’m always down to make reiner pathetic. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <; 3

“What would you do for me?” 

“Anything…” Reiner moaned, his hips jutting forward. you slide around on his lap, but you don’t mind. his face is buried between the open buttons of your uniform top, panting hot air against your cleavage. his tiers smear grateful kisses over the tops of your breasts, but he doesn’t dare reach to unclasp your bra without permission. 

bring him back. 

that had been what your superiors told you. 

they could tell that the Armored Titan had changed; whether that meant he was slipping out of Marleyan control or had simply lost himself over the years he spent on Paradise Island, it didn’t matter to them. they’d sent you with Zeke, straight to where Reiner had been resting in the infirmary; the whole time you’d walked side by side with Zeke, you wondered how he could be okay with this. 

how was it that he, like the Marleyans, didn’t mind playing mind games with his soldiers? 

“He likes you.” Zeke had broken silence once the two of you were just outside the infirmary. 

“You’re his War Chief,” you replied, looking away, “he would listen to you if you ordered him to. There’s no need to bring me into it.” 

“He likes you.” Zeke repeated, taking a long drag off a cigarette, “Of course he’d listen to me, but he needs more than orders right now.” he’d given you a knowing look from beneath the rims of his glasses, staring down his nose at you. “I know you’ve done it before, when he first came home.” 

your brows knit together, and you tried to glare at him, but in the end, your gaze fell to your own feet. “I told the general I didn’t want to do it anymore.” you grumble; that familiar, sick sensation twisting your stomach into knots. Reiner was a good man, if not a little misguided, and even though you knew that he must know that the Marleyan military uses you against him, that you only visited him, kissed him, slept with him because you had been ordered to do so, he didn’t seem to mind. you did, though. because you knew he deserved more.

you just couldn’t give it to him, and he wouldn’t seek it out on his own. 

“With all due respect,” Zeke started in a low tone, “I don’t really give a damn what you think of me for bringing you here. If you think I’m wicked for toying with Reiner’s head, then you may be right.” you glare up at him, open your mouth to speak, but he’s no longer looking at you. “My Vice Chief is standing on a metaphorical ledge, and I don’t want to see him jump. If dangling your cunt in front of him will talk him down from it, then I’ll do that. If the general permits it, I’ll drag you to him whether you want to or not. I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you, kicking and screaming, to his bed every night if it will keep his head on straight.” 

you could’ve slapped him— it was well within your ability to make his cheek burn red with the imprint of your hand, and even he wouldn’t have stopped you, but you don’t. something about the way he spoke, with the certainty he used, told you it didn’t matter how you protested. he and the general shared the same sentiments. they didn’t care how badly you messed Reiner up when you played with his heart; they only needed him to fight. 

Pieck was waiting at the door, a lazy smile gracing her lips, and she waved you inside, leaning against one crutch. you pondered, for a moment, about telling Zeke how despicable he was. but, it would do no good. so, you simply trudged forward, slipping inside and allowed the Eldian girl to lead you to Reiner’s room. 

to your duty. 

“Anything?” you repeat, biting back a frown. you didn’t want him to see how much you loathed how easily he threw himself into the flames for you. your svelte digits caress the bulging veins on his cock in butterfly strokes. it stood straight up between your clothed bodies, swollen, jabbing at the air and the palm of your hand when you wrapped a fist around it, begging for attention from you. you tilt your head back and exhale when he sucks hard on your clavicle, both massive arms wrapped around your midsection and keeping you pulled tight against him. he was big, much bigger than you, and that always made you a little nervous. nervous that he might, one day, stop being so submissive. “Reiner—“ you breathe, unsteady, and he whimpers against your skin, rocking his hips more fervently now that you’ve called his name. he always loved the sound. “What would you do for me?” you repeat, the gentle pad of your thumb teasing his slit. precum frosts it, and the muscles in his arms draw taut. 

“Fuck,” he slurs, dragging his open mouth over your breasts, his brows furrowed, “anything! I’d kill for you.” his breath is shaky as he lifts his head, his golden gaze desperate to meet yours. you avoid it, mostly, and stare at the dusky rose colored blush across his cheeks. “I—I’d die for you…” he moans, and you allow your hand to gather all of his essence and use it to ease the friction as your hand glides south, back down to squeeze the thick base. “If that’s what you want from me, I’ll do it, I will…” 

“Sh, sh, sh…” you croon, filling your voice with as much honey as you could murmur, pursing your lips and pumping your fist in slow, firm strokes that had a sordid whine rumbling in his throat, “I don’t want you to die for me, Reiner. I want you to live for me. I want you to fight for me.” 

he was nodding, leaning as close to your lips as he could, his own working to capture your couplet, even as you kept them just out of reach. to kiss him would only make lying to him harder, even if he wanted to live in the fantasy so badly. your pace quickens, only just, and his grip around your smaller frame tightens. “I will, I am.” you knew that, if he wanted to force you, it wouldn’t be difficult. he could easily overpower you, steal what he wanted ( which, right now was your kiss ), and you could do nothing to stop him. but he doesn’t. he begs you, just under his breath, moaning your name until you’re lightheaded. “Kiss me… please…” you knew he was close; he was throbbing in your hand, bucking his hips to hump the tight fist you used to jerk him off. he was going to cum, and he needed your kiss to push him over the edge. 

“As soon as you promise me.” you urge, running your free hand up to grasp at his cropped, golden hair at the nape of his neck. you didn’t have to pull at it, he leaned back willingly, his lips leaving a peppering of needy, heated pecks over your jaw, as if pleading to be able to land one on your tiers. “Promise me you’ll fight for me.” 

“Please…” 

“Promise you’ll fight with me.” 

“Fuck, p—please…” 

“You won’t leave us.” 

Reiner nodded to every syllable, his eyelids fluttering weak, but he managed to keep his eyes on you, sucking on your jawline, inching up, hopefully, to kiss at the side of your mouth. “I s—swear… I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight… I’ll do whatever you want, I’m yours to command… use me on the battlefield or off, I don’t care. Just please… kiss me!” 

you shudder. 

you were using him. he knew that. he was just too obsessed with you to care. 

pumping harder, faster, you allow your lips to part, and a gentle tilt of your head towards him encourages his to find yours, as if rewarding him for being the most obedient toy soldier he could be. Reiner grunts and devours your mouth in hard, desperate kisses, locking you in place with his powerful biceps. you keep pumping, the other hand still buried in his hair as he comes undone, panting and rumbling a pathetic slew of thank yous into your cavern. 

his head drops forward when he needs air, leaving you panting, too, and praises your soft breasts again. his tongue tracing what you thought might be his name as he snorts against them, glazing your hand and his twitching cock in the warm release that erupts in furious, little spurts. he’s still so pent up, even though you’d seen him a couple of months before, and you wonder if he ever slept with any other women. 

or, did he always save himself for you? 

“You’re good, Reiner.”  you whisper, before you even realize you’ve done it, resting your chin on the crown of his head. carefully, you pet the damp tendrils back, and nibble on your lip. “So good.” 

Reiner lets out a partial moan, but it’s mostly a heavy sigh of relief, before he nuzzles into your cleavage. “Don’t leave me yet.” he mutters, shifting underneath you. you move, too, slow to allow him to pick the position. he guides you on to your back, and lays against you, keeping his face buried in your heaving chest. he closes his eyes, breathing easier as you run your fingers through his hair. “You can sneak out later just, please wait until I’m asleep.” 

[dollsanime-library]

𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐨 — 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 & 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!gojo’s student!reader, dark fic, noncon, spit roasting, face fucking, deep throating, squirting, bukakke, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ commissioned!! part two of pretty when you cry; you probably should read part one first. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading &lt;; 3

you knew you were fucked. 

the curses under Geto’s command had all dissipated; Gojo was no longer trying to fight them or their master, because he was too concerned with getting your mouth open and on him. for the first time, you were trying to disobey him; keeping your tiers sealed tight, you shook your head when he smeared the thick tip over your mouth. you could feel the glaze of precum on your lips, and you whine in protest. 

the worst part was that it wasn’t as if you didn’t want it. if it were under any other circumstances; if it were just you and Gojo and he asked, you would’ve dropped to your knees for him in a heart beat. who wouldn’t? but this? this was wrong. he wasn’t asking— he was panting ragged, trying to pry your lips apart, and you could tell by the force behind the way he rotated his hips to press against them, he was going to be tougher than he’d promised.

Gojo frowns, and mutters, “‘s okay. Open up, it’s me.” you were distinctly convinced that he wanted to tack ‘trust me’ on to that plea, but he must’ve thought better of it. he must’ve realized that he was in no position to ask you for trust. 

“She needs a little extra encouragement,” Geto hums, pressing the tip of his cock between your folds until they split and he can prod at your hole, “I can help with that.” his hand inches up between your shoulder blades, to grab a fistful of your hair at the back of your head, angle it straight ahead, and keep it there. Gojo releases your face, and instead rests his palm against your crown, applying enough pressure that you knew he was going to force it down when given the right opportunity. you feel a knot in your stomach, and your thighs quiver, your feet inching closer to Gojo’s, but you weren’t quick enough to prepare. Geto pushes forward and plunges deep without warning, forcing a yelp to break the sticky seal of your lips, and in that split second, both his fist and Gojo’s palm pushed down on your head. your cry is garbled by just how much cock you’re fed at once, eyes widening as you stare up at Gojo. you want to scream around him, and you do, to try and expel some of the pressure Geto has shoved into your core. but when you do, your mentor shudders with delight; your shrieking has translated into fierce vibrations that reverberate deep within him. 

“Good girl,” Gojo was barely speaking, his breath shaky and littered with moans. Geto was grunting, too, gripping your hair and using it to bob your head up and down on his rival, as deep as he could force you to take it, while he fucked you savagely from behind. “Suck for me… good…” 

pushing your tongue against the back of your throat, you try to stop him from reaching your gag reflex, your hands balling into tight fists against Gojo’s abdomen. you could feel the muscles contracting underneath your hands as he bucked his hips, but your brows were furrowed, your muffled sounds indignant and full of protest. 

you considered biting down on the thick cock trying to worm its way into your throat, and the edge of your teeth graze the muscle. 

Geto must’ve read your body language, because he slams his powerful hips against yours, and pushed your head down on Gojo with so much force that your tongue is pinned underneath Gojo’s cock and he slides all the way to the back of your throat, jabbing against your uvula. “Don’t get any wild ideas, cutie,” Geto hisses, while you scramble to accommodate all of him and all of Gojo simultaneously. “You bite, and Gojo’s going to let me get real mean. That right, Satoru?” 

Gojo bit down on his lip, hips oscillating to feel every inch of your cavern stuffed full, bulging from one of your cheeks before rocking forward, poking at your throat. he groans, and pets the top of your head. “As long as you’re sweet, we won’t hurt you.” now, you noticed, it was no longer Geto won’t hurt you, but the two of them together. it made your skin crawl. sure, you knew they had history, but as far as you were aware, that’s all that it was. you didn’t know that Gojo could turn just as wicked so easily, and although he was still crooning to you, still trying to convince you that he wanted to be nice about this, you were choking on him. you were impaled between them, breathless and stretched beyond what you could handle. “I told you that, didn’t I? Just give it up, sweetheart, and we’ll be done before you know it. Tell me you understand, tell me you’ll be good.” 

you couldn’t speak, but you clicked in pathetic submission, giving a partial nod with tears pricking in your eyes. Gojo runs his fingers up to shove Geto’s hand out of your hair so he could hold both sides of your head. “Say ahh, let me fuck your throat.” 

Geto scoffs, both hands gripping your hips tight as he pounds you relentless, now focused on just how tight your walls spasmed around him, and he stares down at your ass. it was so easy to watch the ripples when he pulled you back to meet his violent thrusting, and see his girth disappear, inch by inch, into your body. “She takes cock like a pro,” he mutters, incredulous, tilting his head and letting out a euphoric sigh when you grip him, “whether she wants to or not.” he’s smirking when he says it, bringing a palm down quick to swat at your ass and watch you jump and mewl. 

and you were trying not to listen to him. 

eyes big and watery, you look up at Gojo and allow your jaw to hang slack, tongue oozing drool as you begrudgingly give him the gargling sound he’d asked for. “Ahh—!” 

Gojo’s hips snap quick, fucking your face as he holds it steady, and that moan trails off into clucking, each time his tip batters the back of your throat. with every thrust, it reaches a new depth until you would gag and your eyes would roll back. spit bubbles out from the corners of your mouth, leaving webs as it rolls down on to your breasts and the floor below you. 

both of your hands try to splay flat against Gojo’s belly, but he’s gyrating much too quick for you to stay steady, your forehead bouncing against his abdomen. and then there was Geto, who’d only gotten rougher, fucking you hard and fast until your knees turn in against each other just to keep from buckling. “Fuck,” he rasps when you tremble, struggling to stay standing, “am I already hitting that off button in your brain, slut? Is it right here?” punctuating his question, he pounds into the same spot until you can nearly feel the thoughts melting away, your nails biting at Gojo in a scrambling attempt to stay upright and fully coherent, but with one, excruciatingly calculated thrust, Geto bullies a knot of hyper sensitive nerves and you squeal, stumbling forward and sliding off of his cock into a shaking heap on the floor. “There she goes.” he whistles, wickedly, grabbing hold of his cock to pump a couple of furious strokes off of it, watching you squirm and cough and whine on the floor. 

“I’d stick it in now, Satoru,” Geto teased, pressing the sole of his foot against your ass, claiming your defeat, “I tenderized the little whore just for you. She should cum like a fountain when you fuck her.” 

it’s a sickening feeling, the emptiness, the nerves contracting wildly inside you, your ass quivering and bouncing up and down as you try to regain control over your own body, and the cold, hard ground you’d landed on with your belly. Gojo follows your descent, hitting his knees on the ground, holding your head up with one fist full of your hair. 

“No— more—“ you pant, shaking your head, drool and precum soaking your chin. “Can’t— breathe—“

but, Gojo wasn’t trying to shove himself back into your slack lips. oh no, your teacher was pulling you closer to him by your hair, and he was moaning before you even touched him again, just pushing you into the right position was enough to elicit those sordid moans. “C’mere, baby…” he was muttering, pulling you up on to his lap, “come sit on my cock.” 

but you were so sensitive, you shook your head, breathlessly trying to protest. you couldn’t imagine another round like the gauntlet you’d been put through already. “Sensei… I can’t…” 

but Gojo was already positioning you on his lap, allowing you a moment to hover over his erection, and he grabs your face with both hands, nodding fervently. “Just bounce up and down. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I just need to feel that sensitive, little pussy clench. You can take it.” you were still shaking your head, whining in hapless protest, when he pushes you down. your back arches, only allowing him deeper entry, and your head falls back. hands falling from your face, down the length of your torso and finally resting on the flare of your hips, Gojo grunts when your walls spasm against the intrusion. “You’re still so fucking tight…” he’s thicker than Geto, but not quite as long. you stretch further, your walls wrapping around him like an elastic band. 

“Even though she’s sloppy wet?” Geto asks, impishly, as he too kneels down. from behind, his hand snakes around to rub at your swollen clit, and you cry for him not to. “Is it too much?” he asks, mocking your pout, nuzzling against your tear-stained cheek, “Are you going to break?” you nod, wrapping nothing hands weakly around his wrist, but Gojo is already bouncing you up and down, grinding your body into his each time. you were in sensory overload— you knew that much; with your head falling back to loll against Geto’s shoulder, your muscles hardly strong enough to coax your nails to scratch at his wrist, your mouth hangs open, allowing a weak and broken string of yowling to erupt from within you. Geto growls against your ear, pumping his cock with his free hand, getting off to the sound of you losing yourself. “That’s too bad.” 

Gojo moans your name, blissed out and grabbing handfuls of your ass to keep your body grinding against him. “Don’t black out yet, baby, just a little longer…” he grinds his teeth, wildly bucking his hips to fill you to the point of bursting with cock over and over again. your breasts swing to the beat of his assault, “cum for me… come on, I know you’re close.” 

you were so fucking close. 

you felt like you were about to explode, and, even as you tried to hold it in, you erupt like a geyser with little but his begging for it, the hard cock in your guts, and Geto strumming you mercilessly. 

the whiniest, protesting shriek is what you let out before you gush, drenching Gojo’s groin, and shake, helpless. Geto’s howling happily, rubbing you fierce until you slump forward against your mentor, and Gojo is grunting in awe-filled lust, stilling your body so that he can drive himself home with a handful of maddening, hard thrusts before shoving you off of him. 

sliding back on to the floor, you sag against it like a sack of potatoes, babbling incoherent. you were sticky and wet all over, from saliva to sweat to cum, you couldn’t tell which mixed with what, and you couldn’t keep your eyes open. fucked out, used to the very limit.

 but they still weren’t done. 

“Look here,” Gojo coaxes, taking your hair up again to pull your head up. you squint against the light in your eyes, trying to find the strength. you could smell yourself on both of the cocks that now rub against your cheeks, and you want to turn away from the humiliation. “Look at us.” 

but you obey, batting sticky eyelashes. 

the two decimaters tower over you, both stroking themselves with one hand, the other holding on to you— Gojo with his hand wrapping a fist in your knotted hair, and Geto grabs your face to keep it angled upwards. and they both moan, snort through their nostrils and curse under their ragged breathing like wild beasts. 

you tremble, watching the display with one eye closed, squinting against the release Geto spurts over your face. 

but Gojo isn’t far behind— in a moment’s time, he’d painted the other cheek, splattered your lips with it, smearing the cocktail of tears, spit, and both of their cum together with a breathy whine. “I’ve… never seen you look so pretty.” 

Geto arches a brow, giving your swollen lips a couple of taps with the throbbing tip of his manhood, before letting go, allowing your head to drop forward. “See now, that was easy enough, wasn’t it?” he looks to Gojo, before giving him a hard pat on the shoulder. “Now, she can be your personal set of holes. Always cockhungry and brainless. Hell, she’s going to be addicted to the abuse. She’ll beg you for it.” he grins, gripping Gojo’s collar to pull him close so that he may growl in his ear, “Don’t say I never did anything for you, Satoru.” 

[dollsanime-library]

‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dub con, fem!bride!reader, kidnapping / forced domestication, loss of virginity, mentions of murder, blood and threats against reader, objectification / mild degradation, size kink, forced breeding kink / creampie, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ first times masterlist. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading <; 3

your instructions were all very clear, and very specific, but you found yourself struck speechless when he appeared. lightning scattered webs of silver across the night sky, thunder shook the entire mansion, and then he was standing there, on the balcony, just outside the crystal doors. your breath caught in your throat as he stares inside, dark eyes zeroed in on you, and one hand reaches for the latch. a gust of wind catches the unlocked glass and flings it inwards towards you, banging against the wall— the hinges creak, but hold. you flinch, startled, and stumble back, but he’s inside and across the room to stand before you in the blink of an eye, without so much as time to allow a droplet of rain from his inky tendrils to fall beforehand. 

“I recognize you.” 

he must; the pearly white chiffon of your gown was tattered and stained a muted rust— dried blood. what had become of your veil or your shoes were unbeknownst to you, forgotten when you hid underneath the altar and clamped a hand over your mouth to not alert the mass murderer of your presence whilst he slaughtered the entire wedding party.

 of course, he’d been privy all along, and simply bent over to peek inside at you once he was finished. black eyes were devoid of any remorse, but he didn’t try to reach and pull you out, or kill you. he simply stared for a moment or two, probably listening to the sound of you sobbing and begging him not to hurt you, and then straightened without so much as a whisper, and left. 

it wasn’t until after you’d crawled out and witnessed the carnage that you’d been taken. 

you hardly hear it— the savage thumping of your nervous heart much too loud in your ears, as is the way you suck in a desperate gulp. “I— I—“ think, dammit. but, where had your thoughts gone? had they, along with your ability to breathe, been stolen? 

“Who left you in here?” the assassin’s expression wasn’t soft, but it was understanding. as if he knew that someone as meek as you would have trouble being this close to him. yet, still expectant of answer. “You didn’t make it to my bedroom by yourself.”

“Your f—father.” you don’t recognize your voice when it leaves your lips, it’s much too soft a whisper. then again, there was no need for you to be any louder than that; he was so close that you could smell the fresh rain in his hair. “He says…” the words Silva used were embarrassing and horrible, but you were told to recite them verbatim. and so you do. “He says that since you didn’t finish the job, he kept your compensation. The only payment you’re allowed is…” your voice was starting to shake. 

“You.” Illumi finishes for you, staring down with an unreadable, abysmal gaze, and his head slowly tilts, as if he’s starting to understand, or, perhaps, ponder the possibilities. “Hm.” 

you’re relieved for some reason, when he turns away and struts to the other side of the room. you feel like you can breathe for a moment while his back is turned. 

but only for a single moment. 

because that oxygen is wrenched away from you the second he peels out of his wet shirt, allowing it to fall in a damp heap on the floor. “W— what are you—“ your cheeks were hot, but you felt as though your feet were frozen solid to the floor, unable to move even an inch, you watched him undress. your eyes grazed over the dips in his abdomen when he turns, partially, to face you. each pad of muscle is blanketed artfully in ivory flesh with ribbons of rain  dribbling from the raven tips that cascade over his shoulders and tickle his belly. “What are you doing?” 

“Undressing.” he said, incredibly simply. you could see that much. but, you were more concerned that he was doing it right in front of you. his hands fall to his waistband, and he makes short work of it, allowing his trousers to join the other garments. this is when you look away, when he’s stark naked. you want to hide behind both hands, but you’re much too in shock to command your muscles to move. “You’ll be expected to get used to my naked body if you’re going to be my pet.” you feel a tight, cold grip around your wrist and the need to jerk back overwhelms you, but he’s stronger and holds you there. when did he cross the room to come back to you? it didn’t matter; it seemed like when Illumi moved, he did so on clouds. he was silent and quick. guiding your trembling fingers to his abdomen, he presses your palm flat. you can feel the solid muscle that’s been built over years of harsh training beneath his skin. 

“P—pet…” you whisper, hopelessly. 

“If you prefer bride, I can call you that.” Illumi offers, flippant, and drags your hand down to his sex. the suddenness in which he forces your fingers to envelop the girth of his soft cock elicits a whimpered protest, one that has him twitching against your fingers.  “It makes no difference to me. Property is property.” for a while, Illumi allows your fist to rest there, giving you time to familiarize with the sensation of him in your palm. he didn’t even force you to watch— not minding that you kept your eyes closed tight and your chin tucked into your chest. “How should I have you first?” inquiring aloud, Illumi takes hold of your fingers and glides them up the length of his cock, pressing the tips against the sensitive slit, and snorts through his nose in approval, before pushing your hand back down to his base, guiding you into a steady, stroking rhythm that had him hardening against your palm. “Should I put you on your knees and have you worship my cock? Etch prayers into it with your tongue?”

your cheeks were even hotter now, teeth sinking into your plush, lower lip as you shied away from his words. you knew he was watching your reaction, and he must’ve read it instantly. “I’d have to teach you, I suppose,” he replies, as if mildly disappointed, “and I’m in no mood to tutor right now. he lets out a soft sigh, releasing your hand, “it would be easier to put you on your back.” your hand slows to a stop, eyes opening wide when you realize his intentions, and his now rock hard cock throbs in your fist. both of his hands came up to frame your face now, tilting it up, forcing you to stare into his obsidian gaze. “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking.” he croons, and the atmosphere around you felt like it weighed a ton, bearing down on your shoulders. you were locked in his stare, with his lips moving inches away from yours, but you found the will to pump him again, your couplet trembling. “It would be very stupid for you to disobey me,” he purrs, and takes a daunting step closer, forcing you to back up. and another, and then another. “I’m glad you know that, at least.” 

he had grown in your hand, and now his cock was thick and solid, and it took both hands to wrap around him. Illumi took a final step towards you, and when you stumbled back this time, the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed and bent; you clamored backwards on to it. there was a split second where you worried that Illumi’s cock would slip from your hands, but he was right there, climbing atop the mattress and atop you, before you had time to think. his hands never even slipped from your cheeks, until his knees pried a gap between your legs that he could fit into. 

“Hold your legs open.” 

grateful that you could stop stroking, your hands fled to grab on to your thighs, spreading them apart with shame written over your features. you couldn’t look at him any longer, and turn your head against the pillow. 

Illumi blinks, one brow quirking, before flipping the skirt of your gown up on to your belly, exposing your panties. you were embarrassed to admit that you could feel the wet patch that had grown against the cotton even before he pressed the cold pads of his first, two fingers against it. you whimper, and writhe. “Wet already?” he asks, rubbing against the fabric until you tremble and start to inch up the mattress, desperate to get away from the sensation, but one hand grabs your ankle and jerks you back down to him in a swift, rough motion. your dress scrunches up around your waist. “Stay put.” 

you know better than to fight against it, even when he wrenches your panties down, but your heart is revving like an engine, your breath hard to catch. you’re so afraid that this man, this murderer, is going to damage your body simply because he can. that he’ll hurt you in the most intimate ways possible, and there would be no one to save you from his cruelty. 

“Look at it.” 

you could feel the broad, pink tip, prodding against your virgin netherlips and you gasp for air, but turn your head slowly back towards him. you didn’t want to look. you didn’t want to see your assault happen. but you do because you don’t have another choice. “P—please…” 

Illumi doesn’t push himself inside just yet. holding tight at the base of his cock, his hips only hardly jut forward, applying enough pressure for your folds to spread. then, he starts in a nonchalant, but certain voice. “I’m going to fuck your little pussy deep, and hard.” you didn’t even realize you were shaking your head, but you stared at his size, nervously. you couldn’t imagine that thing fitting in your body, but he continues, as if solidifying his threats. “You’ll feel every, single inch. You can scream as loud as you want, cry as much as you want, but you keep your legs wide and accept me. Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you. If you don’t, your stay here will shorten tremendously. Nod if you understand.” 

you can’t look up at his face, eyes glued to the manhood ready to split you in half, and you swallow hard around the lump in your throat, before you give him half a nod. you can do this, you tried to tell yourself. it’ll only hurt for a second. 

when he forces it inside, you lose your breath completely, yelping when, inch by inch, the thick cock disappears. there’s a sharp, sudden pressure in your depths, and you know this must be the severing of your innocence. “If you get any blood on my sheets, I’ll wrap them around your neck and squeeze.” he mutters, low and threatening. you knew he wasn’t lying. 

 you mewl, and your nails sink into your own, fleshy thighs to grip tighter. you don’t want to break any of his rules. Illumi moans, for the first time, when he’s completely nested to the hilt, one hand reaching for your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, thankfully, but he grips it to pin you against the bed, while the other gropes your breast through the ivory bust. he’s still staring, watching how you flinch and whine as you struggle to accommodate him. “You’re a tight, little thing.” he doesn’t sound particularly happy or disappointed by the fact, but he punctuates the statement with a strong rock of his hips, slamming himself home. your back arches, and you cry out, mouth hanging slack, at just how much force was behind each slow, deep thrust. 

he hadn’t been bluffing. 

you could feel every, thick inch as your walls stretch and spasm around him, flittering wildly against the pulsing veins that bulge and scrape against your sensitivity. his bulbous tip pummels knotted nerves relentlessly until you feel tears well up in your eyes. whether it’s pain or pleasure, you can’t tell the difference. 

Illumi starts to look, and sound, more human with each thrust— his lids sag low, his jaw works, and he snorts through his nose. you could even see a faint twinkle of perspiration against his temple. he’s hunched forward, hovering above, pressing his forehead to yours. his wet hair draping over you like a black curtain, engulfing you in his scent, making it hard to see anything except what he wanted you to. which was him, decimating you. “You look pathetic, bleary eyed and whiny,” he started, his breath in warm puffs against the cold tears on your cheeks. each word seems is separated by the sensation of him pounding into you, the sound of his body slapping against yours, and your own slick squelching hideously. “But you’re still taking it.” he almost sounds… impressed? “Your little pussy is stretched to her limit, but she’s still milking me. Who could’ve known? Behind those tears, there’s a cock-starved, little fuck doll?” 

it was humiliating, degrading, but for some reason— you only clenched around him tighter. you only felt yourself get wetter when his hand careens upwards to grasp your face, keeping it steady as he bullied your guts. your mouth hung open, and just as you’d been given permission to, you let out a lilting shriek. your legs were starting to shake. but, you could also tell that something was building inside of Illumi, too. 

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was. 

realizing he had no intentions of pulling out, you squirm, and your hands fall between your bodies to press against his taut abdomen, whimpering a breathy, “Please— don’t— not… inside…” 

but Illumi didn’t stop. he didn’t pull out. he rammed into you just as hard, and your breasts jiggle against the sagging neckline of your dress. you croak, hoarse, and stare up at him, squinting against his cruelty. “You’re my bride, aren’t you?” he croons, dark eyes expecting ( and receiving ) a submissive, yet reluctant nod. “Then act like it. Beg me to breed you.” 

sniffling, your nails barely scrape at his flesh, and you gurgle a soft and pathetic, wet eyes full of protest, “P—please… breed me… Cum in me… please, Illumi—“ 

Illumi groans in approval, a wicked smile spreading across his tiers when he comes undone. both of his hands wrap around your throat now, and he buries himself as deep as he can force to pump you full of his warm release. even as you snub and squirm and gurgle, you can feel how full you are of him, and it’s a sickening feeling. 

he’s released you a few moments later, favoring his side of the massive bed, and you remain on your back, legs open and quivering, core feeling hollowed out and sore, for a while before he murmurs, “You’ll need to tend to my wet clothes, and do away with that tattered dress, before you can rest.” 

blinking, you take a couple of breaths before slowly closing your legs. the muscles are aching, and you have to do everything at a snail’s pace, including pulling yourself off the mattress. when your feet hit the cold, hard floor, your knees want to buckle. you’re wobbly at best, one hand gripping your lower belly as you let out a whispered cry discomfort. the bridal gown hangs askew on your body, now stained with more than just blood and sweat, and you stumble, awkward on your own, two legs, over to the pile of wet clothes. gathering them all up, you hug them close to your chest and turn to look at him, meek and bashful. how hopeless you must appear to him in this moment. “What do I… what do I do with them?” 

Illumi looks at you, unblinking, and runs his fingers through his hair as he props up on his elbow. he’s shameless in the way he’s splayed, nude across the bed, his soft cock draped over his thigh. “The butler will meet you at the door, he’ll show you the laundry and where to bathe and dress.” he tilts his head, watching you stumble, still disoriented and uncertain, towards the door. you can’t really see it in the dark, but there’s a faint fondness in the depth of his eyes. “Hurry back, too.” 

curious, you nibble on your lower lip and push the door open. just as he’d said, a tall man clad in a crisp suit is waiting on the other side. there’s a glimmer of distaste for how filthy you are as he sees you, but it’s gone in an instant as he grabs hold of your elbow, none too gentle. you look over your shoulder at Illumi, and blurt out before the man can drag you away, “Aren’t you worried I might r— run away or something?” 

the worst part about Illumi’s smile is that his eyes turned icy and diabolical when his lips curved upwards; the two counterparts didn’t match. “And go to whom?” he asks, taunting, before adding simply because he could: “I killed everyone that knew or cared about you already, remember?” 

[dollsanime-library]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!prize!reader, dub con, manhandling, rough sex degradation / barou being mean, name calling ( whore, bitch ), all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ my toxic valentine masterlist. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading &lt;; 3

“Con— gratu— lations!” you spat in between ragged breaths, your brows knit tight together, your features twisted in both pain and unwilling pleasure. each syllable seemed to erupt from your lips, shot out by the force of Barou’s hips pounding into yours from behind. each time, you bite back a hoarse squeak, your feet stomping on the floor. you could feel the grate in his locker imprinting against your cheek the harder he pushed your head against it, his other hand was clasping your wrist— the hand that you’d used previously to attempt to coerce him into a gentler victory celebration now successfully restrained.

Barou was snorting through his flared nostrils, dark eyes wild  with lust and adrenaline, and each time he bucks his powerful hips, he fills you to his hilt, and none too gently. “You don’t seem very excited for me.”

you bite down harshly on your lower lip; his voice was deep and raspy, and the hot puffs of breath on the back of your neck as he fucks you like a feral animal raised your hairs on end.

“I was promised an eager fucktoy,” it was a hiss, as if he were disappointed in your services. however, his body told a completely different story. he was throbbing in your guts, and each time he rams into your depths, you pull yourself forward against the locker. with nowhere to go, you tremble, impaled on him. “Instead, I get a whiny bitch that can barely even take me.”

your hand, the one not balled into a tight fist down and wrenched behind you, pushes flat against the locker, trying to push back against his strength— just to get your face off the harsh, cold metal. “I’m— trying—“ you whimper, indignant. you typically didn’t mind your stay or your contract in Blue Lock; most of the boys were needy, but never hurt you. this was your first time with the beast that was Barou Shoei, and you were blindsided by just how little he cared about your body. he twisted you up into whatever position he desired, like you were nothing but elastic, and fucked you so brutally that you knew you’d be sore for days to come. you could only hope that the next victor would be content with using your mouth instead.  “y—you’re being too rough, that h— hurts!” you felt as though you were being ripped open. with each, greedy thrust, Barou was battering your limit, and he didn’t seem to plan on stopping any time soon.

“‘Cause you keep trying to run from my cock,” Barou  released your wrist and your face simultaneously, both hands clamping against your shoulders to lock you in place. naturally, both of yours follow, nails biting at his forearms. maybe you were just trying to hold on to something as he drilled you with more aggression, as if emphasizing his following point. “I know it hurts, but I wouldn’t have to be so rough if you would just be still and take it, like you’re supposed to.” your calf muscles burned, and that when you realized you were struggling on your tip toes, the velocity of each thrust nearly sweeping you off your feet. “Come on, whore,” he snarls, grinding his teeth, “stick it out for me. Give it up.” you were practically screaming— the shrill moans hardly even sounding like yourself, but you obey. arching your back as tight as it would go, your feet dangled just above the floor as the strength behind his merciless fucking took over. as if you were perched on his lap, his lower half supports your weight so he can pound upwards, and you slammed down to meet him. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, planting your palms on either side of your ass, fingers pressing into the muscle pads of his lower abdomen. like caressing pure steel. if you could just get a moment of reprieve, push yourself up and away from his pistoning hips, you could try to regain some control over your own body. but he was granting none of it. 

his fists grip your waist instead, both hands so massive that you swear he can almost interlace his fingers around you, and he pulls you down harder. “That’s better,” he grunts in approval; the bestial edge to his voice in your ear eliciting a surprised mewl, “now you’re starting to sound like you like it.” 

[dollsanime-library]

𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 — 𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), this is a dark fic, yandere!rohan, improper use of heaven’s door, toxic relationship, forced consent, creampie mention, suggested mindbreak, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“That’s perfect,” Rohan crooned, the only sound audible over the scribbling of his rapid sketching. his emerald eyes coruscate as he admires the vulgar visage you had no choice but to display for him. “Keep that pitiful expression.”

your face was flushed, cheeks hot and eyes glassy. there was a minuscule puddle of drool on the floor underneath your jaw. your eyebrows are cinched together, teeth sank into your lower lip as you muffle the pathetic whines that can’t seem to end. you’re panting, and so is he, because he’d practically ripped himself off of you and stumbled over to his desk to grab his supplies. the muscles in your toes were cramped up where they’d been curled so tightly, your thighs trembling, but you keep them spread wide as your knees ache, planted firmly on the hard floor. “Roh—“

Rohan cut you a warning glare, pursing his lips, “Shh, sh sh, shh,” the tip of the pen screams as it shoots across the sketch pad, “keep your mouth slack, just like before. Talking will only soil the realism. If I don’t capture this look on your face right now, I might simply go insane.” you could tell by the twinkle of obsession in his eyes, that he wasn’t exaggerating.

but still, you longed to move. to stretch your cramping muscles, to pick your sore cheek off the side of the hard floor. you could still feel Rohan’s foot planting it there, smearing his sole over your face and applying enough pressure on your head to make you dizzy. “W—when can I get up?”

“Spread your ass cheeks.” he barked, ignoring you, brows furrowed in concentration. “Show me the damage I’ve done already.”

eliciting a pathetic and hardly audible whine of subservience, your hands move before your brain can catch up with the demand, prying your globes apart and, thus, allowing a gush of cocktailed release — both Rohan’s and yours — from your cunt. it was spasming, milking nothing, and each time you clenched, you snagged your lip with your teeth. it’s not like you wanted to enjoy how roughly Rohan fucked you, or how sloppy he wanted his muse to be. you didn’t want to cum when he hurt you, but you didn’t have a choice. you couldn’t fight what had been etched into your psyche, literally.

Heaven’s Door. that’s what he’d called it when he explained it to you; an ability that only he possessed. you couldn’t see these powers, but somehow, you knew he wasn’t lying to you.

and you’d seen him use it before — bizarrely enough, though, trying to recall those moments were impossible.

Rohan promised never to use Heaven’s Door on you, but that was before you tried to leave him.

now, you didn’t have to ask him how he could make you do things even though you didn’t want to do them, or why you had blank patches in your memory all the time. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t fix your mouth to form the questions. he had, somehow, used his ability on you, and was keeping you muzzled and obedient now. with no freedom in sight.

Rohan moans out loud, clenching the pen in his hand when he sees the delicious destruction, “That’s it!” he cries, and you could see his cock, still hard and throbbing, beading with more spunk. he wants to grab himself and milk the rest of it out of him, you can tell, but to let go of his pen would mean he would lose the momentum at which he was creating a mirror of your position. “That’s exactly what I want to see, your body fucked out and shaking, your mind slipping, little by little. I’m going to fuck you stupid before long, and I’ll be able to immortalize that, too— once I’ve turned you into my brainless, little fuck doll. Look at how pretty you look.”

Rohan leans forward, flipping the pad around to show you, and you want to be humiliated. no, more than that, you want to cry. reduced to little more than his pathetic possession, you stare at the equally helpless girl in black and white on the paper. she looks less alive than you thought you did, less herself— or, yourself. were you becoming that? were you losing… you?

“I don’t…” your mouth fights each syllable, trying to keep you from speaking. “I don’t like…. This….”

for a moment, Rohan’s brow arches, and he tears the portrait from the pad, tossing it into a stack of at least a hundred more that were similar. all of you. fucked. ruined. “Oh?” he inquires, half taunting, “you’re unhappy?”

yes. god, yes. please, let your lips work with you. “Y—yes…” you wished you could use your hands to push up off the floor, but they don’t want to obey as easily as your mouth, one slipping forward to plug your desperate opening with two fingers, and you whimper. “I want…” to go home! for you to let me go! help! all of these were options that you tried to force to the edge of your tiers, but none found themselves upon them, and instead, your fingers pumped into you, curling at the knuckle, and your mouth betrayed your mind, “I want you to fuck me, Rohan. Again, and again, and again. I want to lose my mind on your cock…”

no! no, no, no!

at the very least, please let me keep my mind!

“Take everything from me. I want to belong completely… to you.”

[dollsanime-library]

Dio's definitely the type to be like "just the tip" and then it straight up turns into noncon because hes a meanie like that. His excuse will probably be something along the lines of "you're just too cute I couldn't resist" 😳

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!joestar!reader, noncon, stepcest ( kinda ? adopt-cest?? if there’s a better term for this let me know? ), dio calls reader baby sister and little sister, loss of virginity, mean!dio, size kink, suggested abuse ( emotional and physical ), blackmailing, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ IF I DONT WRITE FOR DIO AT LEAST ONCE A MONTH I WILL PERISH. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Dio, don’t—“

it was all you could manage to blurt out before his large hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your protest to being bent over the dining room table. now, you could hear nothing but his heavy breathing in your ear, and the clinking of tea cups against their saucers as you struggled and pulled at the tablecloth. you’d knocked one over already, and stare at the steaming, amber liquid staining the pristine, white cloth. you would be in trouble for that later.

“Shhh, shh, sh.” Dio squeezed his fingers tight against your lips, but his other hand was grasping wildly at your skirt, wrenching it and your slip up to toss the flowy fabric against the small of your back before grabbing a fistful of your cotton panties. “Didn’t I say that I’d be nice if you were good?” he had said that, however Dio’s definition of nice simply meant that he wouldn’t twist your arms behind your back, so tight that he might break them, until you gave in and kissed him even though you would beg and beg him not to. or, that he wouldn’t sit on your chest, pinning you to the ground with all of his weight so he could fuck his fist and cum on your face while you cried.

it wasn’t a one time thing, no matter how many times you told him you didn’t want to do this with him, Dio was much bigger, much stronger, and much more cruel than you. he’d do and say anything to keep you as his little toy, even going so far as to threaten to tell your father and brother that you were sleeping with him. on the days he blackmailed you, you were always relatively compliant. you let him use your hands like his own, or let him grope at your ass while he did it himself, and you tried not to cry too loud, lest he get annoyed and get rougher with you.

instead of jerking the lingerie off of you, his thumb presses against the fabric, prodding your netherlips to part around the pad. “What I needed was a little help from my baby sister, I was suffering. Couldn’t you tell?” Dio croons when you blindly stomp at his feet— even if you managed to clip his toes under your heels, you weren’t strong enough to do any real damage against him. “I told you what I needed, no? It wasn’t that hard, just ‘drop down on your knees, close your eyes, and open that pretty mouth of yours. I’ll do all the work.’”

bucking back against him in hopes to wriggle free, you’re reminded of just how solid he was; big and immobile. it was like slamming yourself back against a brick wall, one that pushed itself into your shove and forced you back on to the table. “But you couldn’t even take the whole head in your mouth, could you? Crying to me that it was too big and you were too nervous. You didn’t want to choke on it, did you?” you shook your head, trying to scream against his palm that you didn’t want to do this— it was wrong, but your words were so muffled and jumbled that even if he was listening, he wouldn’t be able to decipher them. “You didn’t want to get caught sucking my cock, either, right? Well, don’t worry, little sister, nobody’s going to see you suck cock.” he pulls you up by the grip on your face, until his breath is heavy against your cheek, his other hand pulling your panties halfway down your trembling thighs. “If any of the kitchen staff happen to be eavesdropping, or if your father and JoJo return home early from their trip, they’re going to see me stretching your little cunt over me instead.”

both hands immediately flee to claw at the one he has clamped over your mouth, desperate for a chance to speak, a chance to plead with him. Dio knew you were a virgin, and he liked that. a lot. deep down, maybe you always expected something like this to happen, but now you were facing it, and you were terrified. if you knew Dio as well as you did, he wasn’t going to be gentle. guiding the crown of your head back against his pectoral, your eyelashes fluttered as you realize you’re screwed into a position perfect for looking up into those devil ruby eyes of his. just like he wanted. “There, stay right here and look up at me. I wanna see those pretty eyes get big and watery when I put it in—“ you squeal in opposition, shaking your head back and forth, trying to grip the skin of his palm in your teeth.

Dio shoved his lower body against yours harder, using his hips to pin you in place against the table so you couldn’t squirm too much while his hand flees from your panties to blindly undo his trousers, scoffing when you get even louder, even more restless and dig your nails into his arm, “Don’t be such a crybaby,” he purrs, grasping his cock at the base once he’s shimmied his pants down enough, and guides himself to rub his tip against your folds. you were slick and warm, and he groans, worming the head inside against your body’s resistance, “I’ll just give you the tip, nice and easy. I promise. Now, stay still and let me stretch that cunt.”

his lips find your forehead, smirking against it as he forces your body to stretch open around the swollen head of his cock, and your eyes widen and well up with tears just like he predicted, one helpless whimper reverberating in his hand. “Ahh,” Dio moans against your temple, letting go of himself once he was inside, grasping a handful of your ass instead, “How does that feel, little sister? Doesn’t it feel good to take your first cock?”

you squint as you look up at him and whine, pressing your wet and clumped lashes together to keep your tears from escaping your eyes— it wasn’t that it was incredibly painful. Dio was sizable, but if you’d been more prepared with foreplay, this might’ve even felt good. you knew that, but you also knew that Dio didn’t care. he never cared if you liked it, only that he did.

but his eyes are fixed on yours, reading all the hate and fear in them, and it only turned him on more. it only made him want to hurt you more. his grip on your ass tightened, nails digging in until you’re squirming, and he pushes his hips forward, breaking his lousy promise by shoving the remaining inches into you. you should’ve never believed that he would have so much self control, but the overload of cock has you screaming against his hand, your thighs vibrating when he bottoms out. “I’m sorry, baby sister,” he pants, dragging his open lips over your forehead, “but you’re just too tight. You look too cute trying to handle the tip, you’re making me want to fill you up and watch you break. I can’t resist,” Dio pulls back only to ram himself back into you, hilt deep, over and over again, falling into a mercilessly deep and hard rhythm that had you sobbing, knocking dishes off the table as you scramble for something to hold on to. “you’ve made me this ravenous. This rough. You’ll just have to be a good girl and take it until I cum, won’t you?”

[dollsanime-library]

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ this is a dark fic! smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanami’s apprentice!reader, virgin!reader, noncon, anal, body morphing ( tentacles, two dicks + some inflation too ), double anal penetration, size kink, mindbreak, bad end, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ commissioned by @beebiesworld!! do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Well, you gave up earlier than I anticipated,” the Curse circled you, eyeing your frame up and down like a hungry animal, a wicked grin pulling his features taut, “Such a shame. I was enjoying chasing you around, the smell of your sweat was so sweet, and you seemed so frightened. Instead of fighting me, you tried to run away; are you sure you’re really a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”

there was a faint sound, the clanging of your daggers hitting the concrete ground at your feet, but it sounded so far away. what was really loud, however, was the beating of your heart. it thumped against your eardrums, it drowned out your panting.

how?

how had he caught up with you so fast?

you hold your hands up above your head in defeat, sheepish at just how he stared at your trembling fingers. you didn’t want him to notice them, but they would’ve been impossible to overlook. “I’m… still in training…”

he gasps with an excited grin and draws closer from behind, until the very shape of his lips forming the words against your ear shifts a tendril out of place, “I see, and does your mentor know you’re here?” you want to cower away from the softness of his voice— it was taunting and cruel, but it sounded so sweet.

you shake your head instead of answering him out loud, the lump growing in your throat making it hard to speak. to say that Nanami Kento didn’t know his pupil had wanted to impress him so badly that she skirted his rules and pursued a curse much too powerful and now she was utterly fucked with no way to call for help was too damning for your lips to bring the words to them.

“No?” both hands snake around to grasp at your arms in the air, and keep them there. your muscles all go taut; your blood freezing in your veins. you remembered what Nanami had said about this curse, and his ability to manipulate the body. would he destroy you this way? you close your eyes tight, and await an excruciating death. “He must be worried about you,” the curse croons against the shell of your ear, before puckering to plant a saccharine kiss on your lobe, his body pressing against yours from behind. “That 7:3 Sorcerer.” the way he spat it, like he was drooling acid into your ear, you knew he meant Nanami. he must still be miffed that your mentor had managed to escape him by pulling a cheap shot. lithe, dangerous digits that were cold to the touch drag along your forearms at a slow pace, and he chuckles. it sends a shiver up your spine. “You must know all about me, then. And our little game we played.”

swallowing hard against the lump blocking your throat, you nod, gathering the courage to speak, even as your voice trembled. “I know… I know how you disfigure innocent people. How you torture them… just by touching them…”

“Does that scare you?” he tilts his head, resting his chin against the crook of your neck, and his hands careen around your shoulders, towards your collarbone, “Knowing that I could pull you apart and put you together again, all wrong. I could disfigure you by force, and it would be so painful your mind just might shatter from the trauma—“ though he was threatening to mutilate you, his voice was lighthearted; playful, even. a new level of malicious that you’d never known before. you knew that he could feel the ferocity of your heartbeat, because his digit tips drummed over your chest in the same, frantic rhythm before they tug at your neckline, gentle and teasing, exposing the tops of your heaving breasts. “If I wanted to.” he pokes out his lower lip in a pensive pout, “But then I wouldn’t get to hear you scream, if I turned your brain to soup right away. I shouldn’t transfigure you, should I? I should keep you together, at least long enough to have my fun…”

don’t be a coward. you wanted to tell yourself this over and over, but it was so much easier said than done. he was considering how to torture you as easily as one might consider their options for dinner. “Why are you toying with me?” your hands clench into fists, falling down at your sides once your arms started to ache, “Stop talking about it, already… if you’re going to kill me, just… do it.”

“Kill?” he sounded genuinely puzzled, and that worried you. “Did I ever say kill? I don’t want to kill you, little sorcerer.” you can feel him moving, even as he’s pressed against you, his feet slipping in between yours, kicking them apart until your legs are spread wide, and something— no, two somethings inching up under your pant legs. they felt like twin serpents, forcing their way through the threading until your bottoms were hanging in tatters against your exposed legs. “I want to ruin you.”

your eyes widen, and your gaze drops to your legs— those tentacles were the same shade of ivory that he was, and they were wrapping themselves around the hem of your panties, like fists ready to jerk them down.

you react, but not fast enough. trying to launch yourself forward, both hands flail to shove at the curse, but he’s coiled two more of those strong, thick cords around your torso, cinching your arms in their constriction. the vice knocks the breath out of you, and you would’ve fallen forward had his many extremities not tangled you up— the very tips of them form fingers, one by one, morphing into stitched hands identical to his original ones, and pull at your clothes, jerking your panties halfway down your thighs. as soon as your sex is met with the cold, damp air of the underground, he inhales deep; smelling you. “Ahhh,” he moans, and the tentacles coiled around your midriff begin to pry at your top, pulling it down, “I can’t wait to destroy you!”

your legs tremor, fighting against the inhuman strength of his organic bondage to try and close, to minimize your exploit, but you’re no match for him, not wrapped up like this. you kick your feet, and scream to be let go. but he giggles, watching you fight for your life, and lose. all the while, those many hands of his grope at you, squeezing and kneading your breasts, long fingers running laps between your folds, coaxing your sex to weep, unwillingly.

“Stop—!” you cry out, writhing hopelessly,

“Why? It seems like you like it, your little cunt is wet!”

but you couldn’t bite back the hapless whining that left your lips fast enough, surprised by the stinging sensation when a middle finger and thumb flick at your sensitive clit. “So swollen already,” he laughs, twisting you around to face him. you see now, as you’re hoisted off the ground, that those tentacles ripped his shirt so severely that it’d slipped from his body completely, leaving his rippled torso bare. he was incredibly muscular, and you hadn’t noticed until now, with his silvery tresses hanging over one shoulder, tickling his navel. the feelers winding up and down your legs spread them further into a wide split, opening you up completely, and you wince. you’d trained plenty, physical feats, but you’d never had your muscles forced this tight. “You must be a virgin, you’re so sensitive.” he hums as he steps closer, his clothed groin pressing flush against your most sensitive portion. you can feel a thick tent, hard and pulsating, just beyond the fabric, attempting to push through and get to your sex, and you mewl, shaking your head, mostly to yourself. “I almost can’t believe that 7:3 Sorcerer didn’t fuck you himself, what with how cute this pussy looks when she’s wet. He hasn’t even seen it, has he? I wonder if he wants to?”

both of his hands reach down, pressing his thumbs against your netherlips, and spreads them apart to expose your maiden entrance, his dual-hued gaze sparkling with wicked delight when you whimper a pathetic, ‘No…’ and shut your eyes tight. it wasn’t an answer to his question ( which seemed to be more of a musing than a true inquiry ), but a protest to his touch. you didn’t have to say out loud that Nanami didn’t see you in that light; he was your teacher. you looked up to him, you saw him as a second father. he wouldn’t think like that. not like this monster.

would he?

you feel pressure, unlike svelte fingers, prodding at your sex. your eyelids snap open and you stare down the sea of slithering tentacles in horror. his hands hadn’t moved, your folds still pulled back, but Mahito has rid himself of his pants and, thus, freed a thick, hard cock from its prison. with just a subtle jut of his hips, he’s able to press the bulbous head against your hole. you clench in response, trying to close completely, but his teasing is just powerful enough to stretch you back open. “Hhhnnnn,” Mahito moans, his tongue darting out to swipe along his lips, “Keep clenching, keep trying to keep me out— it makes me want to hurt you.” one of the hands growing from his many appendages reaches up to caress your cheek, which you promptly turn away from. “You’ll only scream louder when I stuff you full of three, big cocks and make that cute, little hole gape for me.”

three.

you tried not to think about that, but there was no denying the creature before you was demonic enough to conjure and do just what he threatened.

“Nanami… he’ll… come to save me…” you insist, squirming. it was a pathetic attempt to instill fear into the curse— try to scare him with what your mentor might do to him if he follows through with his demented plan.

“I hope so!” Mahito chimes, “I hope he’s on his way right now.” with one hand grasping himself at his base, he drags the engorged tip of his cock between your lips, purposefully bumping your vulnerable clit, and watches you bite your cheek to stifle a breathy sound. “He knows where to find us, and you’ll be broken in long before he makes it here, it’ll be so fun to watch him realize just how helpless I’ve made you. Now, I’ve got a tough decision to make,” thoughtful, Mahito tilts his head to one side, and then the other. you open your eyes, reluctantly, and stare down at his cock, rubbing between your folds. he catches you staring and smiles wickedly, wide, “This tight, little pussy… or…” one more swipe, and this time, his tip pressed against your hole and you braced yourself— were about to be invaded for the first time.

for only a fraction of a second.

before he pushes down on his base, sliding his tool just below your sex; it was slick and shiny with your arousal. the thick head sits flush against your anus, and you haven’t the time to protest, though you suck in a flustered breath to do so, before he plunges inside.

a jolt of pain wracks you, and you cry out, voice breaking, when he forces his way into your canal. he was merciless, instantaneous in falling into a brutal, deep rhythm. you were wincing, one eye closed right whilst the other glared daggers up at him, snorting heavy breaths through your nostrils. sealing your tiers muffled painful whimpers, but your toes still curled, your fists still tightened, in protest.

Mahito swoons, seeing how much you hate having him in your guts, and it only spurs him to fuck you harder— deeper. “Yes! That greedy, wet cunt of yours can wait; it’s much more fun stretching you out this way instead,” he’s purring, lids weighing heavily on his duo-toned eyes, “you look so cute, right now, in so much pain. My cock’s just too big for that virgin asshole of yours, isn’t it?” you nod. you knew he wouldn’t care. hell, maybe he would even find amusement in it and fuck you harder just to inflict more pain, but you answer anyways.

helpless.

pathetic.

both hands clasp against your waist, digging his thumbs against your belly to jerk you back to him each time your body lurched from the power of his thrusts. the intensity, the incessant force behind his cock barreling into your insides was all but maddening. he was right. he was too big for you, he was too rough for you. your body was struggling to keep up with all of the sensation and it overloaded your system. that must’ve been the reason you clenched around air, the reason you felt your stomach bunch up in pleasured knots. right?

you could hear the sound— your sex was dripping down over your ass cheeks, and each time the curse drove himself home, his balls smacked against them, sticking just enough to emit a sickening slap. over and over.

Mahito was panting, but you could tell he wasn’t winded because his velocity never even faltered. he pounded you relentlessly, and squeezed your waist so furious that you could swear he was about to fold you in half at the midriff, his thumbs digging into the squishy flesh. “Still a little vice,” he whined, mostly to himself, “I wanted to get another cock in you, but no matter how hard I drill you to stretch this fuckhole out enough, you still grip like crazy. Heh, let’s see if we can fix that, eh?”

“N—no—!” shaking your head, as fervent as you could muster having been fucked halfway into submission, you mewl out in protest. another cock? your stomach flipped. your body couldn’t even handle this one; surely you would split open if forced to take any more. your opposition fell on utterly deaf ears, because it wasn’t even a full moment later that you felt yourself stretch. “S—stop!” clawing at your own fists, you thrash in the tentacles’ grip; at first, it felt like he was prying you open, your battered ring yielding helplessly to the extraction, but then you could feel it on the inside. your walls were stretching. desperate to accommodate the slow-growing bulge you could see peeking against your belly button. he was inflating himself whilst balls deep in your belly, giving you no choice but to extend around him.

“There we go,” Mahito let out a breathy sigh, but never once let slowed the pistoning of his hips. he was determined to hollow you out completely, “open up, cutie. If you don’t, I might just fuck a hole right through you.”

you’d never felt so full before, and you couldn’t imagine anyone had. your body was stretched, your stomach distended in an unnatural bulge that moved, back and forth, with each merciless hip snap. you could feel every inch, thicker than humanly possible, as they pummeled your rectum. you couldn’t enjoy this. not this pain, not this cruelty.

but your pussy was still wet.

was it the never ending fucking, the constant stabbing at every, intimate nerve inside that was numbing your mind? or had you always been destined to enjoy such depravity?

no, it had to be him.

Mahito was fucking the urge to resist right out of you. with each buck of his hips, each time his balls smashed against you, you were losing a part of your brain. the will to fight back had all but dissipated. as did your hatred of the pain he inflicted.

“N— Naa—nami—“ repeating his name under your breath was the only thing keeping your brain from melting away. forcing yourself to remember that your mentor would come for you. he would save you. if you simply held on to your sanity. “H—help— me—“

“Hmm?” Mahito crooned, his tempo changing drastically for once. he was still incredibly deep, but his thrusts were torturous and slow, coaxing weakened whimpers from your lips each time he pressed his abdomen to yours, as flush to you, as deep in your ass that he could go. “You still remember that 7:3 Sorcerer’s name? Even after I’ve stuffed you to your limit?” he didn’t sound at all disappointed. he sounded… impressed. “Fine, I’ll just have to fuck you until your brain turns to mush.” grinning ear to ear, Mahito releases your stomach, leaving one hand tight on your waist, but the other flees to his groin, gripping the base of a brand new cock growing out from his pelvis. perfectly planted just above his original member, this new appendage is already throbbing and erect when it sprouts, drizzling precum over its twin and your abused hole. “You won’t even remember your own name when I shove this one inside of you. Watch!”

he was so fucking right.

your ring protested taking another, girthy intruder, but he was too strong and, in the end, your body had to give in. worming its way inside, the new cock rubs against the other, coaxing a vulgar moan from your assailant, but you didn’t hear it. this new, impossible feeling had hit a switch in your brain. both dicks bulged in your belly, pressing hard against the sensitive wall protecting your g-spot, scrubbing rough, pulsating veins against the nerves. the two sexes were roughly the same length, jabbing deep in your belly, and when he pulled back, and both withdrew before slamming home, you saw stars behind your eyelids as your head dropped back and you yowled.

Mahito must’ve had an amazing memory, because that very same fierce speed and depth returned to his rocking hips in no time, even as you hang— limp and suspended by those extremities. your mouth was agape, so your moans flowed free, but you couldn’t form any real words. you couldn’t cry for help anymore. your eyes rolled around behind twitching lids.

you didn’t remember Nanami’s name.

you didn’t remember your own.

and you couldn’t care. you couldn’t think.

his cocks seemed to be working in tandem, reaching every sensitive cluster of nerves that you had and punching them over and over, an orchestrated attack to shatter your mind. and it was working.

you felt utterly claimed, decimated. his cocks had invaded you, dominated you, broken you. and deep down you knew that, even if someone did rescue your beaten body from this devil before he crumbled it, your brain was long beyond salvation.

“Poor thing,” Mahito moaned, using his now free hand to press down against the dueling protrusions in your belly, but you only squealed louder when he did so, “you’ll never be the same after this, you know? You’ll never recover from me, and we’re not even close to being finished. This is only your ass, cutie, I’ve still got to conquer that little cunt of yours. I wonder if you’ll even hang on long enough for that, or if your body will simply give out.” but, it didn’t matter to him, not really. you knew that he wouldn’t care if you were mangled beyond repair; he’d said himself, he wanted to break you. “No,” he said, finally, within a whiny, ecstasy filled moan, and grasped your face. squeezing your cheeks together hard, he forced your chin into your chest, and kept your visage angled towards him. he didn’t care if you couldn’t see through your glassy eyes, or that you were drooling all over yourself, he cooed at the sight of your loss against him, “I’ll make sure you stay with me, at least long enough to be the prettiest, sloppiest bait for that 7:3 Sorcerer.”

he could hear you.

Nanami could hear you, panting, crying, but as he called your name, he got no response. he repeated it over and over, stampeding the corridors, following the helpless sounds of his pupil. please be okay. he didn’t say it out loud, and he didn’t have to. he was the only one there to hear it.

should he have asked for back up? of course. but, Nanami couldn’t wait for anyone else to come to the rescue, and he had a gnawing fear in his gut that he was already too late.

if Mahito had already gotten to you, then he was getting closer and closer to discovering that you had been transfigured, and he would have to put you out of your misery, and he wasn’t even sure he could do that.

his heart was racing, but as he turned the corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the ground just a short sprint away— it was you, he could tell, but he couldn’t make out much more. he barked your name, hoping to grasp your attention as he approached, but when the visage of you finally cleared, his blood ran icy in his veins.

you were on your knees, completely nude, and yet you were slumped forward with your face against the ground, cheek smushed and distorting your expression, forcing one eye closed. the other was half opened— you looked drowsy. but your thighs quivered. his gaze was immediately drawn to them, and he drew in a harsh breath.

one of your hands worked diligently between your hips, your middle two fingers thrusting deep inside of yourself. with each probe, sticky white dribbles out of your cunt and over your hand and wrist. it’s the same as the substance that oozes from your butthole as it spasms. it must’ve also matched the cocktail of cum and spit smeared across your features, and splattered on your ass cheeks and thighs. you were a complete mess, and you didn’t even seem to care.

you hardly even noticed Nanami when he approached you, still fingering yourself, gurgling moaning, your eyelids flittering. “What…” Nanami’s brows knit together, his teeth grind. “What happened to you?“ he asked, but he was already relatively certain that you wouldn’t be able to answer him. mortified, he steps closer, kneeling down with his arms extended, sleeves rolled up and ready to scoop you into his arms. “I’m going to get you out of here—“

“C—cock—“ you whimper, tongue hanging out of your mouth, and Nanami freezes. “P—please… give me… cock… fuck me… use me… h—hurt me… fff— fuck me, p—please…” sharp eyes widening ever so slightly behind his spectacles, he sews his jaw shut right when he hears that damned familiar giggling from behind him.

Mahito had appeared there, clasping his hands together with glee. “I hope you won’t be too mad at me, but I borrowed your little toy here.” he exclaims, gesturing towards the mess of what’s left of you.

when you hear his voice, you shake harder, fucking yourself more fervently with both fingers, and whimpering, “Please… please… fuck me… fuck me… fuck…”

“The only problem is,” Mahito smirks, a devious twinkle in his eye when Nanami turns around, “I think I broke her.”

[dollsanime-library]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 — 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 & 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, this is a dark fic. noncon / chikan, cuckhold ( kinda ), dacryphilia, fingering, geto is a bad, bad man and gojo has potential to be corrupted, age gap ( gojo and geto are significantly older than reader ), forced clothed stimulation, use of the word r*pe, suggested pain kink, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous; nonnie, you’re filthy minded and i love it. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

“Aw, poor baby,” Geto croons in your ear, his wicked grin tickling your lobe. you whine and turn away, kneading your shoulders to try and force him off of you, but with your wrists pinned together at the small of your back with one of his much stronger fists, you couldn’t go anywhere. he had you tight to his abdomen, his free hand grasping your face and angling it in a helpless, apologetic Gojo’s direction. “Are you going to cry?”

you sniffle, wincing, and look up at Gojo. he’s in no position to help you, either. surrounded by curses just waiting to pounce if Geto gave the word; even if they would’ve been a piece of cake to take on one at a time, or in pairs, he couldn’t hope to overpower them all, and he wasn’t trying. Geto had made it abundantly clear that to struggle would be the end of you. you knew that, but you still looked to him to rescue you now. after all, he was your mentor, and the strongest sorcerer you’d ever met. surely, he could save you. surely, he could stop this. “Gojo-sensei,” you whisper, twin tears escaping when Geto’s hand traces lower, and forces its way into your uniform top, “help me, please.”

Geto hums with glee, grasping a rough handful of your breast, skewing your top, and listens to you whine. “She’s soft,” you could feel Geto’s lips on your neck, planting hot, cruel bites, before he turns his eyeline to stare at his rival— mock Gojo from behind you. “Want to feel?”

“Suguru.” Gojo warns, his baritone even and soft, as if he’s still talking to his friend and not some maniacal visage of him. he tried to ignore your pitiful whimpering of his name, and the tears glistening on your cheeks as you fight against your assailant, and his icy gaze remained glued on Geto. maybe he knew it was impossible already, but he wanted to bargain with him. “You’re hurting her.”

but Geto scoffs, and pinches each of your nipples hard enough to elicit a squeal, and pulls you upright when you try to double over to escape him. “I know.” he mumbles, before his hand travels south, popping the buttons on your top from the inside until it hangs open, exposing your chest to your mentor. Geto had pulled your bra up to rest against your clavicle, so your breasts were free underneath, and aching from the abuse. you didn’t want to see it, but Gojo’s gaze flickered downward, if only for a moment, and his jaw tightened. “And you’re jealous, aren’t you?” Geto taunts.

“No, I want you to stop.”

“Sure you are,” Geto continues, and grabs your waistband, shoving it downwards. you immediately start to babble and plead with him not to do this, attempting to wrench your arms free. you just wanted to grab your shorts and keep them up, but he wouldn’t let you. unfortunately, all of that struggling made it even easier for him to work your shorts and panties halfway down your thighs, and before you can snap them closed, he cups your sex. “You’ve wanted to do this for a while, haven’t you? Come on, be honest with me, Satoru: just how often have you thought about overpowering this one? Making her cry just like this?” Geto’s open mouth trails along your wet cheek, collecting tears on his tongue, but he smiles at Gojo, “We could rape her together, you know.”

“Stop…” you beg, clamping your thighs tight around his hand, “please, please stop…” you were sobbing, now, sniffling and staring at Gojo. you were half begging to him, too. make it stop. make it stop. make it stop.

Gojo’s teeth grind, and he shifts, and for the first time, you can see a rosé tint to his cheeks. his impossibly aquamarine eyes fall towards his feet, and your own gaze follows. it was blatantly apparent by the tent sticking out from his trousers that he wasn’t entirely against the idea.

or, maybe it was the sound of your crying that’d made him hard.

either thought was frightening to you.

but Geto’s fingers worm their way between your netherlips, stroking along your most sensitive region, coaxing more and more tears and frantic scrambling, teasing your weeping hole by pushing just the very tip of his digit in to watch you snub. Geto looks to Gojo. “I bet you’ve always wondered how tight your beloved pupil is,” he husks, pushing against your entrance, “how wet she gets. I can tell you, she’s fucking soaking my fingers, Gojo.” Geto chuckles, then adds, his face smushed against yours, “The princess is tight, too. We could take turns on her, stick it in and listen to her scream.” you were shaking your head, babbling incessantly under your ragged breath, and he frowns, mocking you, “No?” applying more force, he pushing his forefinger inside and groans to himself when your walls clamp down on the intruder. “We could always shove both our cocks in at the same time. Make your little cunt stretch to take us both.”

Gojo cursed under his breath, hands balled into fists at his sides, but, even as he tried not to look at you, he was stealing glances of your decimation. and getting off on it.

“Gojo-sensei…” you whimper, again, hoping to remind him that you needed help. remind him that he didn’t want to participate in your destruction. you stare at him, horrified and flustered, and when his eyes meet yours, it tells you everything you need to know.

he wouldn’t save you. even if he could.

“He doesn’t want to make me stop,” Geto purrs, kissing at the corner of your trembling lips, “look at him. His cock is hard watching you struggle. He wants to hurt you, too.”

“N—no…!” you gasp when his finger curls, knuckle deep inside of your, “G—Gojo—“

but you stop calling for him, because Geto has ripped his finger free from your body, and uses that hand to grip the back of your neck, pushing you down to your knees with both vices. “You don’t believe me?” he taunts, taking a step, pushing you right along the floor. your knees work, your hands plant their palms against the ground, and you use them to crawl so he doesn’t drag you, inching your way painfully and pathetically towards where Gojo stood. “See for yourself, baby.”

Gojo’s arms twitched at his sides when you’re sat in front of him, but he doesn’t reach to keep Geto from shoving your face against the crotch of his pants. you whimper, muffled, your open mouth smearing over the rough fabric and the firm, sizable muscle trapped beneath it. you could smell his cologne, laundry detergent, and the soap that still clung to his skin from his last shower, but more than that, you could smell the rawness of his arousal attempting to soak through his pants and on to your tongue. you scrunch your nose; but it’s a dizzying scent. Gojo lets out a breathy moan, and you don’t fail to notice how his hips rock forward to rub his hard on against your face. Geto practically howls with laughter, bobbing your head up and down against Gojo’s sheathed cock. “Still think your proud mentor wishes he could save you? Listen to the sounds he’s making, stupid girl. He doesn’t want to save you. If anything, he’s hoping that, when I’m finished, he can have a turn. he wants to fuck you helpless and weak, just like I do.”

“Gojo—“ you try to look up at him, your eyelashes glued together with your tears, your pupils pinned. you didn’t want it to be true, but Gojo couldn’t find the words to deny it. he just moans, one hand falling to rest on the crown of your head, keeping you there.

Geto tilts his head to one side, gripping the back of your neck, “What do you say, old friend?” he teases, shoving you closer, “I can make the little whore choke on your cock while I fuck her senseless.” Gojo looked uncertain, and that horrified you. he was no longer trying to convince Geto not to abuse you, but he was weighing the pros and cons of joining him. Geto saw this, too, and his evil grin etched upwards. “I know you, Satoru,” he assures the other, prying your head back so you could gasp for air and struggle against his grip, but he leans closer to Gojo, “and I can tell you’ve been waiting for a long time for an opportunity to fuck this bitch. Come on, break her with me.”

Gojo looks from Geto, then down to you, his hand falling from the top of your head. for a moment, you thought he would refuse, and you felt a short-lived wave of relief wash over you.

until he snatched at his zipper.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” he mumbles, half hearted, using one hand to hold your chin angled up towards him while the other retrieves his solid cock and pulls it through the gap provided. you seal your lips, pressing them together tight as another round of liquid diamonds rain from your ducts, but Geto blocks you between them, reaching down with both hands to grab your waist and hoist you back on to your feet. as soon as you’re standing, you can feel his own erection against your quivering thighs where he’d taken it out, too, and, keeping one hand tightly gripping your waist, he uses the other flat between your shoulder blades to bend you, until you’re eye level with Gojo’s cock. “You can take it, I know you can.” Gojo was mumbling, probably trying to make the guilt dissipate. “Be good, okay?” he gives your cheek a gentle pat, “I won’t let him make it hurt if you’re good.”

[dollsanime-library]

one of my favorite headcanons for dio is that he doesn't allow his darling to wear panties. maybe even forbids it. he just loves easy access <3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, edging, fingering, little bit of degradation/humiliation because dio is and always will be a big meanie, almost blade play ( his sharp ass nails ), suggested past abuse / sexual conditioning ( from dio ), orgasm denial / control, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ it’s always a good day when i get to write filth for the man, the myth, the legend: dio brando. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Do you even have the faintest clue why panties are forbidden, pet?” Dio asks, without looking up from the book resting against his crossed knees. “Page.”

with your fingers trembling, you obediently flip the page he’s done reading, shaking your head with a muffled and shy, “Nn— Nn.” with the hemming of your skirt stuffed into your mouth, you’re forced to bite down on it and keep it in place, high and out of the way of your vampire lord’s malignant digits.

the room was icy cold, but you weren’t trembling because of that. your thighs were shaking and sticky from his constant, torturously slow stroking of your sex. the length of his finger slotting between your weeping folds to probe, and you clench around air with a timid whimper. then, his thick knuckle grazed in circles, until your back arched and you tried to ride it. he would, then satisfied with your desperation to be stretched open, drag the sharpest point of his dagger-like, abysmal nail to tease your tender clit, threaten to cut into you.

your body wants to jerk back, escape his cruel taunting, but you were trained much better than that. you stood as still as you could, with your knees bent inwards against each other so that they don’t buckle, and watch his hand disappear between your legs as he tenderizes your sex, and then reappear a few moments later, sticky with your essence.

“No?” he teases, quirking a brow, but his crimson eyes stay locked on the page he’s currently reading, “Of course not. Why should you? After all, does a lapdog understand why it is that her master smacks her muzzle for yapping too loudly? Or does she simply accept that to yowl incessantly will get her popped in her pretty, little face?” there were memories behind his metaphor— the scariest moments of your time with Dio, when you disobeyed or annoyed him. you, too, had found your cheek stinging from his massive palm making contact, and had been banished from his lap to sleep on the cold, hard stone floor for your insolence.

“Page.”

you turn to the next. and you nod to show that you understand: it didn’t matter if you knew why Dio put the rules in place that he did for you, all that mattered was that you obeyed them.

“But, I will tell you.” two fingers worm their way to spread your netherlips apart, and you mewl and grip bundles of chiffon with your teeth, saliva soaking through the fabric. “I will never allow you to wear panties because of this right here. How easy it is to edge your soft, warm cunt when she’s completely exposed. Vulnerable.” when you shudder at the sordid way each syllable rolls off his sinful tongue, you catch a peek at his impish grin, before he jabs his middle finger against your entrance, with just enough force to feel your canal try to welcome the digit in, but he doesn’t slip it inside.

“L—Lord D—Dio!” you cry, the need to feel him take you all but overwhelming and you careen against his hand, hoping to coerce his fingers inside, “P—pleeeethhh…” you mumble, slurred, through your makeshift gag.

“I will have your little cunt drooling and tender for me whenever I please. Like she is right now, so hungry for cock that you can hardly stay upright. Milking air, wishing, begging for me to fuck it. You want me right now, don’t you? You want nothing more than for me to hollow you out? Break your body and your mind with my cock?”

you nod fervently, eyelids heavy with lust from his words alone, and your hips twitch and wriggle, whining for him to do whatever he wanted to you.

his eyes turn up from the page, and stare at your visage, nearly convulsing on his palm, before his tongue scrapes over a pearly fang, one signature dimple visible in the candlelight as he croons. “How much longer can you take this teasing, I wonder? Minutes? Hours?” you were shaking your head, hot tears in the corners of your eyes, but he kept going, as if he enjoyed how nervous the idea of being edged for hours made you. how frightened it made you. “Or perhaps, I leave you soiled and needy now, and play with you every day following, you’ll wake up, tied to my bed, with me between your legs, sucking on your sugary cunt— bringing you right to the very cusp of orgasm and then snatching it away from you no matter how you beg and cry for a release, until you’re so sensitive that the very sound of my voice in the dark alone forces you to cum.” your eyes roll back, defeated and moaning pathetically as he pulls his hand back from between your hips. your jaw hangs slack; the skirt of your dress sagging back into a skewed version of its place, and Dio shoves his dripping fingers into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste just how badly you want him, pushing them deep until you gurgle and choke on them. “The possibilities to torment you are endless and exciting, my love, and that’s why you will never wear panties again. Turn the Page.”

[dollsanime-library]

I’m not sure how blurbs work, so I apologise if I’m doing it wrong, but I haven’t seen much jjk stuff from you besides the Mahito fic soooo -

Geto Suguru and degradation (I think he’d have a filthy mouth all the while his actions are completely the opposite, so he’d like call you a filthy whore who’s nothing but a cock sleeve for him while stroking your cheek with his knuckles in such a sweet way that it makes your head go fuzzy)

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, sloppy sloppy oral sex ( he’s receiving ), deepthroat, dacryphilia, spit kink, lots of degradation, reader is a non sorcerer, breath control, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ I NEEDED MORE GETO IN MY LIFE. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread and written while i was in the middle of work. thanks for reading < 3

Geto loves to watch you choke yourself with his cock— sliding down so far when sucking him that the thick head jabs into the back of your throat and you gag. when you look up at him with tears gluing your eyelashes together, drool bubbling out of the taut corners of your mouth, he leans against the back of his hand and tilts his head, dreamy.

“Keep it up, fucktoy.” there’s a dusky pink tint to the apples of his cheeks that tell you it feels good, and you whimper— bracing yourself for the discomfort of forcing him into your throat. “There’s still plenty left of my cock to fit in that mouth of yours.”

but, he won’t do it for you. the sorcerer would rather see you break yourself to please him, and you’re just dickdrunk enough to do it.

you open as wide as you can and force your head down, sputtering with your eyes big and watering, staring up at him. his are cold and expectant. you should be taking him easier, and you should be grateful to do so; you knew that’s what he thought.

hell, you might’ve thought the same at this point.

Geto had a phenomenal way of making you feel lower than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes— always more than willing to tell you that he doesn’t fuck nonsorcerers, and you should keep your pussy tight and wet and sweet so he doesn’t regret making you his only exception. he was more powerful, and therefore more important, than you were and you were meant to worship the ground he spit on for it.

“You’re getting more and more compliant,” he hums, watching your lips smash against his base, and his hand flees with not one ounce of urgency, his fingertips petting back the hair at your temple before they dance along your cheekbone, and you gurgle, hunkering your body closer to the ground like a happy canine getting her praising pups. “Took just a little bit of time, and you’ve become house trained. A submissive, slutty set of holes made to drain my balls and nothing more.” you mewl, eyes rolling back, and his knuckles trace your countenance before hooking and pinching your nostrils together, effectively cutting off your oxygen. your shoulders knit together and you reach for his wrist, hoping to pry his fingers off so that you may breathe, but one simple quirk of his brow stops you from grabbing him. “Mostly trained.”

squeezing your nostrils together tighter, he nudges your head back, listening to the way you cluck and gurgle as he slowly but surely pushes you off of him. with an obscene pop, the tip falls free from your panting mouth, webs of drool still tethering you to it and dribbling on to your bare breasts. it was a cocktail of precum and saliva, and you spit some more up as you suck in gulps of raggedy breaths through your mouth, looking up at him.

“Shall I teach you your next lesson?” he croons, leaning close. you nod, and he works his mouth as he watches you.

“Yes, please…” you croak, inching as close to him as possible, just in time for him to spit in your face. you flinch, but luckily it caught the side of your mouth, and you were quick to open wider for him to do it once more, directly on to your tongue, and you whimper, batting your wet, sticky eyelashes.

“My filthy, little human fuckhole doesn’t breathe unless I grant her the privilege.”

[dollsanime-library]

okay, I like to think knowing that Bachira is an energetic boy, he would love to ram inside of you with a chaotic speed. or, just atleast let you grind on his thigh at a fast pace.

other then that, I love your blogs! You have been a big inspo to me, love it :))

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dubcon, bachira likes it rough, titty slapping, playful degradation, suggested cnc, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ give it up for my very first bachira blurb! do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

he always loved to pretzel you, to use you up until you had not even an ounce of energy left to grab on to his shoulders. he didn’t even want you coherent enough to cry his name; Bachira loved that glassy, far away look in your eyes when he’d fucked the thoughts right out of your head.

and how did he do that?

by pushing your limits, of course.

“Ba— chi— ra—!” you were panting, eyes rolling back behind your lids. “Slow! Slow down!” his pace was brutal; so fast that you could hardly keep track of the sound of his body slamming into yours. when did one slap end and the next begin? you couldn’t even be sure. your insides were churning, walls fluttering spastically, trying to grip him, wanting to savor the sensation of his depth, but he wasn’t slowing down. not even when you begged. not even for a moment.

“Now why would I do that?” he croons, pressing you into the wall harder as if to remind you who was really in charge here. with your leg stretched between your bodies, your ankle draped over his shoulder, it was difficult to keep your balance on one foot, with your knee threatening to buckle from the sheer force of pleasure he bullied into you. so, you were grateful that he was pinning you to that wall, even if his tight fist grasping your hair at the roots of your crown was stinging, even if he could fuck you stupid from this position, and you could do nothing to stop him, at least you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. “When you squeeze me so tight when I pound ya just like this?”

you mewl, helplessly, when he grasps a handful of your bare breast and squeezes, so you roll your head on your shoulders and peer up at him with puppy eyes, gripping his wrist. you tried to push yourself up on to your tippy toes to ease the pounding, “I— can’t take it—“ but Bachira was grinning ear to ear, sweat trickling down in glimmering streams against his countenance. “‘S too much!”

“You’re always so whiny, and every single time I make this pretty pussy take it. Do you ever learn, baby, or do you just like to beg me all pathetic and watch me break you, anyways?” his breathing is ragged, swatting at your breasts to watch them bounce, and he guides your head back, closer to his, by the vice on your scalp, like an animal’s reins, and you submit with an undeniably happy whine, pressing the back of your head against his collarbone. “You like it when I’m mean to you too much, yeah? Gets you wet when I tell you no?” staring up at him, you shake your head, but you’re trying not to smile, breathless and weak and unsure if you actually could hold out this time, but your sex tightens around him, and he has his answer. “You don’t want me to stop,” he breathes out, falling against you and nipping at your cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of happy lovebites and his spit on your skin, his hips smacking against yours at such speed and velocity that you reach forward and try to hold on to the wall, squealing with sordid delight and awe, “you’d so much rather I fuck it like I stole it, and you’re such a lucky slut— because that’s my favorite way.”

[dollsanime-library]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 — 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ this is a dark fic! smut ( minors dni ), fem!marleyan!reader, noncon ( and eventual dubcon ), virgin!reiner, gagging, size kink, noncon oral sex ( f! ), lots of manhandling, overstimulation ( him ), noncon creampie and dubcon breeding mention, tension between marleyan & eldian obviously, spoilers for late s3 / early s4, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ first fic of the new year let’s gooo!! requested by anonymous for my blurbs, but then i couldn’t help myself. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

he was watching you again.

it seemed like he always was. quietly ogling from the corner. you knew, of course, and every now and then, you would cut him a glare that seemed to burn right through him. the furrow in your brows brought forth the memory of a soreness in his jaw, that he discreetly reached up to rub with the back of his hand— the sensation of your fist making direct contact with it wrenched to the forefront of his mind. you’d decked him, hard enough to dislocate it, because you’d woken up to find one hand inching up under your shirt. he hadn’t been able to control the urge to touch you any longer, and although his fingers had not made it far above your belly button, he’d paid for their misdeeds severely: first the punch from you, and then a savage beating dealt from the hands of your peers— Marleyan soldiers.

but maybe he was lucky.

had he been any other Eldian, anyone of lower ranking, he would’ve been beaten to death for touching you. but did that stop him from wanting you so bad it tortured him? did that stop him from thinking about you late at night, from gripping the sheets of his bed so tight in one hand and himself in the other, whispering your name under his breath and trying his best to imagine it was you wrapped around his hard and desperate cock instead of his fist?

not even for a second.

“Going home,” Zeke announced his presence as he approached, the cherry of a cigarette burning and a dull, gray trail of smoke following him, “are you excited?”

“Yeah.” a pathetic excuse for a reply, actually, but Zeke hadn’t seemed to expect any less. he didn’t bother following Reiner’s eyeline, he already knew where it would lead, and that you were on the end of it. Reiner hadn’t even looked away when Zeke approached, so the War Chief was aware he was deep in his hapless abyss of desire for you.

Zeke sucks on the cigarette, and the end singes furious red as he draws in a deep breath and contemplates the silence between them.

but Reiner wasn’t. he was lost in his thoughts of you. the shape of your body, how effortlessly enticing you were just sitting there with your comrades. that damned unreadable expression you always wore— and that fiery hatred in your eyes when he caught them. did you loathe the weight of his gaze so much? did you feel every ounce of lust he poured into it, tracing each curve of your figure, wishing he could kiss every inch of you? you never held his gaze long, just enough to grimace in disapproval, stare down your nose at him.

it should’ve turned him off completely.

it didn’t.

because Reiner was convinced that, if he could just get you alone, if he could just get his hands on you, he could make you like him. he could rip away that hatred, and replace it with affection.

or, maybe it was just wishful thinking, and he didn’t care to talk himself out of the lie he fed himself because his time was running out and he needed to feel you ( even just once ) before he passed his Titan down.

as if fate was winking her eye at him, you said farewell to your peers and got up from your seat, disappearing behind a closed door. it wasn’t to go to the bunker, he knew that. behind that door was a small room where you spent most of your time— a broad desk in the middle of the room and maps spread out. you were in charge of reading them, marking attack points, rendezvous, and escape points.

and, more often than not, you were alone in there.

Reiner’s hands clenched into fists, and the muscles in his jaw tightened.

Zeke glanced at him, eyebrow quirked, and murmured, “What if I ordered you against it?” Reiner didn’t have to tell Zeke what he planned to do, it was painfully obvious already.

“I would tell you to have me punished for insubordination after we reach home.” Reiner didn’t mince words or intentions, and pushed himself off the wall. this was, quite possibly, the only opportunity he’d have to catch you alone, as he watched the other Marleyans filtering towards their bunks, leaving your little office completely unguarded.

Zeke pondered his response.

Reiner seemed decided already, and he knew that he couldn’t be swayed. so, the chief sighs. “Then, I’ll order you not to get caught this time.” Zeke said, instead. he knew he shouldn’t allow Reiner out of his sight, and especially not to disappear behind that door, but Reiner also wasn’t a child anymore. he wasn’t so easy to control. “I need my Vice Chief alive.”

Reiner blinked, expecting more resistance, but when it wasn’t pressed, he didn’t look at Zeke. he nodded, and crept off, slinking through the shadowy corners until he reached the door.

Reiner slipped inside, but made no real efforts to hide his arrival, staring at your back. you were standing at the desk, both hands on the maps, and you don’t say anything to the intruder. his eyes don’t leave you, hand drifting to the push the lock on the door into place.

“The war’s over.” he mutters, and he watches your shoulders stiffen. you hadn’t expected it to be him, it seems. “You can stop staring at those maps.”

you don’t look back at him, and he uses the opportunity of stealth to reach up and grasp his armband, his marker as an Eldian, and snatch it from his bicep as he approached.

“As long as Eldians exist, there will be other wars.” you spit in return, but your eyes widen only slightly when you hear how close his footsteps have gotten. your heart skips a beat, and you stare at your own fist on the table. “Get out of here.”

“No.”

a lump forms in your throat— he was right behind you. when he whispered it, his breath shifted the hair that rested against your ear, and the heat from his breath sent a shiver up your spine. did he… did he say ‘no’? to a direct order from a Marleyan?

“I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.” he added, and you felt the sturdiness of his body against your back; his head dips low, so he can breathe your scent in deep.

your fist flew back towards him as you started to turn to face off with him, but he must’ve been ready for it, because he caught your arm at the wrist and bent it up behind your back until you cry out, “Son of a —!”

your expletive is muffled, and you gag on the taste of cotton. for a moment, you can’t tell what he’s shoved in your mouth, until he cinches it in a tight knot behind your head, pressing his weight on you, and you realize it’s his armband. rage fills your stifled obscenities as you writhe, desperate to get free, and stomp your feet, hoping to catch his toes under your boots. “I didn’t want to do it like this,” he growled in your ear, bringing his knees up into the back of yours, bending you over the tabletop with a rough shove. one, massive fist secures both of your wrists together at the small of your back, “but, I’m almost outta time. And I can’t wait on you to come around, anymore.” the more you wiggle, the harder he squeezes your arms, and you bite down hard on the gag. you were no match for his strength, and you knew that, but your pride wouldn’t be easily broken.

you kicked and flailed as wildly as you could, blindly, screaming slurred and incoherent about all the gruesome, bloody ways you would make him pay for this if he didn’t get off of you, but even that didn’t stop him.

his free hand grasped your belt and the hem of your trousers at once, jerking them down your thighs. leather screamed until it pools with your pants at your ankles, restricting them, and Reiner sucks in a breath behind you. “I really wanted to take my time with you,” he husks, placing his powerful palm on your ass and digging his fingers in, groping rough handfuls. you bite down to push a moan back into your throat, brows furrowed. both of your fists uncurl, and you hook your digits into the waistband of your panties, instead, in a vain attempt to keep him from tearing them off of you. it doesn’t matter; Reiner’s calloused fingers seemed to rip right through the cotton and shred them until they sagged in threads against your thighs. and then, he lets out a low, awed moan, squatting down to stare at your core, inches from it.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of this? Imagined how sweet your pussy must taste?” you shook your head, gurgling in defiance— demanding he not even dare, but it was too late. your fingers push at his forehead, hoping to pry him away, but his mouth was already sealing against your netherlips, suckling on them. you pushed your tongue against the gag to keep yourself from moaning; you couldn’t admit to him how good it felt, especially when his tongue slipped between his lips and flicked your clit to life. the throbbing nerve swells against his tastebuds and he snorts like a beast in rut, lapping at you. his mouth then travels over one ass cheek, sinking his teeth in deep, sucking on the skin to leave his signature on you. you squeak, clenching your legs together, but it hid nothing from his devious mouth. “I’ve never felt a cunt tremble in my mouth before, soak my tongue…” he admitted, panting already as he gets to his feet, “how does it feel having the first and last pussy I’ll ever kiss?” and, then you felt the firmness of a solid cock through the trousers he was working down against your thighs, his mouth finding the back of your neck. “The first and last pussy I’ll ever fuck?”

you squirm underneath his weight, muffled screams of protest hoping to reach outside the door dying in the room you’re trapped in, and before long he grabs hold of the base of his massive cock at its thick base, worming it between your folds until they stretch and slot around the swollen head. you could tell his hands were shaking, his breath ragged and excited against your neck. “You’re wet,” he breathes in awe, and you shake your head, crying out the word ‘no!’ as loud as you could, but it was ultimately a lie. you were dripping, coating the tip of his cock as he rubbed it back and forth against your sex. “Wet enough to take me right now.” the way he said it, with his voice uneven, you knew it wouldn’t matter if you hadn’t been.

he wasn’t giving you a choice, and any preparation was better than none at all.

your palms press flat against his clothed abdomen and you squeal in fervent protest when he jabs his way inside of you— it’s none too gentle and his size is enough to have you coming out of your skin. your walls flutter and scramble to stretch wide enough to allow for the intruder’s rough entry.

it isn’t long before Reiner, grunting and groaning, has fallen into a brutal, greedy rhythm.

crying out, drool soaking the armband digging into the corners of your mouth, you push with your hands, blindly, as hard as you can, to try and push him out, and you squirm atop the table, hoping to wriggle free, but once he’s fully nestled inside, Reiner takes your wrists in each hand. your hands ball into fists again as he uses your arms like levers, pulling your body back to meet the mighty snapping of his hips. each thrust fills you entirely, hard and fast. he’s not saving any energy, or trying to make the sensation last— deprivation has clearly sank into him, and he couldn’t control himself.

“So— so tight,” he moans, nuzzling into your neck, “so warm.. so… fucking… good!” your vice tightens around him when he hits your limit, and his hips stutter; Reiner elicits a broken, gurgling moan that churns your stomach, “Oh, fuck, right there? That’s— that’s what I want— tighten up—!“ shifting with all of his weight bearing down on you, his palms pin your arms to the table, and he pounds that same, sensitive spot relentlessly. his brutality encourages your body to clamp down harder around him, shudder and spasm. you scream and beg him to slow down, but your resolve is weakening, and the screaming is starting to shift into moaning.

no, you didn’t want this.

you didn’t like it.

was he simply breaking your body into submission, and in turn, your mind?

“Close,” he stammered through grinding teeth, “so fucking close.”

for a moment, you mewled; the prominent vein massaging a delicate knot of nerves inside you as he plows against your hips. your eyelids fluttered, and you didn’t hear his warning. his rhythm didn’t change; it remained as cruel as one could be, battering your insides, but that nerve bundle was screaming each time he rammed it. your toes curled in your boots, and you moaned out loud.

and that was when Reiner lost it.

you hadn’t had time to react before he buried himself as deep as he could go, pumping you full of warmth, and you snap out of the pleasure trance too late to utter a disdainful but weak, “Shtp…“ amongst his huffing and puffing. your feet stomp against the floor, but sluggish.

your thighs quaked. your head was spinning. your stomach was tied up in knots. and your walls were trembling and sore from being stretched and abused. but Reiner was still rock hard inside of you. he’d cum, but he was still solid and bulging his shape against your belly.

“I need more.” Reiner grunted, and before you knew it, you were being flipped over. he did it with so much ease that you must’ve weighed nothing at all to the brute, and somehow managed to keep his cock deep inside of you. the breath is knocked from your lungs when your back makes contact with the desk, and your head rolls to one side, as if admitting your defeat. you didn’t want to look at him— you knew if you took one look at his red cheeks, or saw the sparkling sweat against his temple, or even caught a glimpse at his eyes, pupils blown out until they’re all black, you would want him. “Fucking you once was never going to be enough.” his hips were already rocking again, finding a deep, hard rhythm, and his own release frosts his length and dribbles out from your core when he retracts, then squelches when he drills his way back inside. both of his hands flee to his own body first, making short work of the buttons on his shirt before he peels it off of himself, and it flutters to puddle at his feet.

when his hands found you again, he started by pushing your legs open and down against the table, but when he saw that you weren’t going to fight him, he released them, and you kept them spread for him to violate you however he wanted. “Good… Good girl…” he panted, one hand reaching up to grab your face and turn it back to him. this time, you did make eye contact, and you moaned through the gag when you saw the pleasure you were giving him on his face, “Take it, just take it for me.” his fist wraps around the armband and he yanks it down, leaving you sputtering and puffing. “You want it, now, don’t you?”

for a moment, you just glare at him, or try to, but your eyes are becoming harder and harder to keep open. Reiner caresses your cheek, possibly tracing the irritation caused by how tight he’d tied the gag, but the gentleness of his touch was a startling juxtaposition to just how fervently he fucked into you. he was staring into your eyes, too, combatting the ferocity you tried to pour with pure adoration, the kind that must’ve even diluted his mind.

you didn’t answer, and he didn’t seem to care either way, because his hand travels south over your heaving breasts and down to your cunt, strumming experimentally. you pant, your eyes averting from his when he finds your engorged clit and presses the rough pad of his thumb on it to rub it rough. you couldn’t stifle your moans anymore, no matter how hard you tried, and let them punctuate each, maddening slam of his body into yours. your eyes trained on the muscles in his arms, veins bulging, everything pulled taut like a rubber band ready to snap. you wanted to reach down and push his hand away from your bud, the sensations overwhelming you, but decided against it. he’d overpowered you in every aspect of the word so far, you might as well take the role of the weaker, helpless one. your hands lay up near your head, backs of them resting against the table, and your legs were splayed wide, cramping from the position, and you whimpered. your back arched when his thumb pushed in just the right way, and you knew he’d rip an orgasm out of you if he didn’t ease up.

and he didn’t.

when he felt you pulse, when he saw your back arch, he rubbed more furiously in the same spot, and pistoned his powerful hips until you were babbling and squirming and coming undone on his cock, and he was panting and gripping your hip with his free hand, murmuring about how beautiful you were and how much he’s always wanted this.

his second climax wasn’t far behind yours, and he traded his fingers pinching your clit for both hands gripping your hips and pulling them to meet his reckless fucking. “I love you,” he panted when he was right on the cusp. “I love you so fucking much.” and somehow, even though lust might’ve been puppeteering him, you believed it. Reiner was obsessed with you, infatuated, since before he left for Paradis Island, and now he was finally getting to force that obsession on to you. with no more resistance. no one there to stop him or beat him for laying his hands on you.

it was only after he’d pinned you to the table with his whole weight that he whispered in your ear, “I want to give you babies.” your eyes widened at that, “I want to see your belly swell, and I want to know that you’ll bear my children, it’ll make giving over my Titan easier…” a couple of deep, slow pumps and he’s filled you once more, this time the excess spurts out around his base and dribbles down his thighs, too, as he moans and pulls back, to smother your mouth in a sloppy, needy kiss.

you should’ve turned your head, pushed him off and told him that you would rather die than birth and Eldian bastard, but you didn’t do any of those things. because you weren’t entirely sure if that was true anymore.

[dollsanime-library]

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 — 𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, sdc dio ( i just really like that picture of him ), ball worship/sucking, face sitting, masturbation ( him ), pussy slapping, mentions of public humiliation, very very light praise, facial, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ i have an incurable obsession with balls and i really think i should be licking dio’s as we speak. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread. thanks for reading < 3

there were reasons you were his favorite, secrets you shared with only him. and of course, his other disciples were green with envy when the vampire doted on you. it was always simple things, like taking an extra moment’s glance in your direction, a devilish spectral simper that would coast over his liquor tiers for a mere second as he took in the visage of your subservience as you sit as his feet or the gentle brush of his icy digits through your hair before he sinks them into your neck to drink his fill of you— these were things that his other pets never experienced.

they wanted to be you.

or they wanted you dead.

you’d learned the key to staying alive and untouchable to anyone except for Dio in this mansion, and that was to keep him satisfied. keep Dio happy, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt you. be useful, and he would become spoiled by your convenience, and keep you around for his own, selfish pleasure. and you’d worked hard to ensure that he was, no matter what he asked of you.

“That’s it…” Dio hisses, “keep licking.”

with all of his weight pinning you to the bed, it felt as though you were encased in a thick, block of ice, his massive knees dug into the mattress, squeezing his thighs tight against your ears. but he was stark naked, and the massive cock hard and throbbing obstructing most of your view of him, standing tall right before your eyes, had your full attention. you wished you could wrap your lips around it— feel that familiar tension as you struggled to take it all in, hear yourself cluck and gurgle and choke on him, but his own, herculean fist was wrapped around it. he strokes himself at a brutal pace, pausing only once to dribble drool from his lips on to his member, his hand, and your cheeks. from this position, even if he hadn’t meant to, he would’ve spit on you ( but, you knew better than to believe that wasn’t his goal ).

with your tongue stuck out, pinned to your chin, you’re forced to bob your head to lap at the underside of his heavy balls, whimpering muffled as they practically smother you. his scent was too intoxicating not to allow your eyes to roll back as your forced to endure being suffocated by it. your thighs trembled, but you knew better than to close your legs, and instead, gripped each thigh with one hand, keeping them spread far apart, even as your need for him manifests itself as slick coating your sex.

he smirks, tiers parted as a bestial grunt slips through them, and you know he can smell the lust dripping from your netherlips.

if you had been the girl you once were, it would’ve been humiliated, but you weren’t. you hoped that the scent was as overwhelming for him as his was for you, and that now that he knew just how soaked you were, he’d fuck you hard and sloppy, just to hear you squelch.

“Messy, little pet.” one brow twitches, knit closely with its twin, but his smirk was still there, “Your greedy cunt is ruining my sheets again.” but you knew he liked it, because his free hand reaches behind him to smear his palm over your thigh, and down to your sex, rubbing only for a moment, and when you mewled and humped the air towards his hand, he struck your cunt with a quick thwap that stung like pure fire. your back arches, and your nails dig into your own legs to keep them spread— quivering and at his mercy. “I’ll have to start fucking you on the floor, but you don’t care at all, do you? As long as I don’t stop giving you all the cock you can handle and then plenty more, I can do whatever I please to this fragile, little body of yours. I could parade you, naked and covered in my cum, out in the streets if I wanted to, smear your pretty face in the dirt and fuck you to tears in the town square if I so desired. No?”

you nod, squealing loud and slurred when a barrage of rapid, burning smacks from his palm vibrate against your core, and you wrap your lips around him, pulling as much of his balls into your mouth as you could to suckle hard, hoping the action would prove to him that you were a good enough girl for the spanking to stop, though you wished he would, at the very least, push two digits knuckle deep into you, just so you could feel a sweet stretch and cum for him, but he doesn’t.

he moans out loud, eyelids drooping, fangs sinking into his lower lip, and fucks his fist harder, his crimson eyes coruscating with wicked euphoria. the strokes focus at the thick, red tip, his thumb pressing against his sensitive slit and his powerful hips jerk forward, smearing his taint over your face, too.

“Eager for praise, instead?” he asks, gauging your sparkling puppy eyes, big and hopeful, and when you tease the seam of his scrotum with your tongue, he hums in approval. “Very well.” he croons, squeezing his fist just below the head of his thickness, reveling in the pressure he applies to himself. there’s a small trickle of red from where he’d snagged a fang on his lower lip, but he hardly noticed, because he was so close to his climax, the pain only added to the pleasure. “Keep sucking like a good, little whore.” Dio was mewling, rocking his hips to the furious rhythm of his fierce pumping of his fist, and you felt more of his weight press into you. his head hangs forward, so that he may stare at you in this position, beneath him, right where he thought you deserved to be, worshiping his testes. “You’ll make me cum… you must want it, yes? A nice, little reward for honing that skillful mouth of yours, hm?”

you did— badly.

you wanted to drink every last drop of his release, taste that familiar, drunken flavor and get lost in it. and you told him so, just by whining softly, and sucking until your eyes just about cross.

Dio growls, taking hold of your hair at the root with his free hand that you knew must smell just like your core now, and gripped a tight fist to hold you steady, “Just like that. There.” he demanded, his other hand jerking fervently as he chases his high— both brows furrowed into a pleasured scowl, fangs showing as he bare them, grinding his teeth. you wondered where his mind went when he focused like this, when he was so close to coming unraveled that he went quiet, and you could only hope that he reminisces on how tight and warm your cunt is, how snug he fits inside, and how the harder he fucks you, especially if he wraps one big fist around your throat, the wetter you get. how much your body worships his.

you wanted so desperately for him to want you.

but you knew he would never tell you even if he was mad for you— Dio Brando would never look weak or desperate. that was your role to play.

finally, Dio erupts with a huffing, beastly symphony of moans and curses. his expulsion splatters on to your forehead and the apples of your cheeks, and you close one eye to avoid being blinded, but keep one open to watch the final spurts dribble over his hand, making a mess of his twitching cock.

with one, quiet moan, Dio climbs off of you, and stands flat footed on the floor beside the bed. though he’d cum, he wasn’t soft— his cock still throbbed, and you hopped up on to your knees, panting, in an instant, staring at it dripping delicious cum as he held it tight by the thick base.

“Clean me up.”

but he’d hardly gotten the words out of his mouth before you were crawling off the bed and across the freezing floorboards on your bare knees, mouth open to latch on to the swollen head and suck his taste off of it. you were always thorough, lapping up every drop, letting not a one escape your tongue, from his tip to his base, balls, and thighs. you’d lick every last inch of his body if that’s what he wanted, but he simply grins, arrogant and rightfully so, as his cum-painted live in fucktoy bathes him with her tongue.

[dollsanime-library]

𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — 𝐲𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon, chikan, handjob, public sex, dacryphilia, threats against reader, so much hand kink, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous for my hoe for the holidaze event. this took me a LONG time so i didn’t proofread it once it was done. if you see any mistakes no you don’t <3 do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

Yoshikage Kira wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life.

and you were making that utterly impossible. not on purpose, of course, but he was taken aback when he’d first saw you, his eyes coruscating like diamonds as he scanned you, head to toe, not a single flaw. you were waiting at the bus stop, bundled up to combat the fierceness of the November wind, and as his heart started to pick up as his gaze hovered around your bum, but he wasn’t checking out your ass.

your hands were swaddled up in mittens, and his eyebrow twitches as anger overtook him. surely, a vixen as lovely as you were would have beautiful hands— willowy fingers with clean, shiny nails. your skin would be soft, your palms warm. you also looked the type to have a gentle touch, not too much strength behind your grip. god, how he wanted to see what they looked like.

Yoshikage was in his car, leaning close to the window, staring hard. he also noticed that he was sweating now, inhaling deep, and his groin had begun to twitch. “How dare you,” he whispered as he watched you, “how dare you ruin my perfectly mundane morning? My quiet, peaceful day. It’s your beauty’s fault.” but there was something else on his lips, a plea that followed shortly after, “Show me those delightful hands of yours, please. Just one peek at your pretty fingers and I’ll— I’ll—“ he inhales, sharp, and palms the thick, hard tent in his slacks. you didn’t even see him, parked across the street, rubbing his clothed cock, desperate to see your hands, and yet you were teasing him. unbeknownst to you, but you were. by keeping them covered up, you were edging him. “Don’t be coy, you sneaky little vixen,” he mutters, grinding his teeth. he was getting impatient, his erection demanding to be satiated. “Coy little things get punished—“

he was reeling, imagining the way you might whimper for him with his hands around your delicate neck, your own fingers would surely reach for him, then, caress him if you had no other choice. and he would feel those silky, gentle touches like kisses on his skin, much more a euphoric feeling than your plushy lips could ever provide.

Kira moans out loud, grasping roughly at the pesky erection in a feeble attempt to settle its glaring temper, but it isn’t a successful one. he wanted you.

badly.

and he would simply have to have you in order to put the pieces of his docile facade back together.

just as he was considering a way to snatch you up— roll by real slow and grab you, pull you into his car and then speed away— there’s a familiar whine. noisy brakes. the bus appearing over the hill and chugging towards the stop. dammit, Yoshikage wouldn’t have the time or the anonymity he needed to take you.

but the hardness of his cock was leaving him no choice but to make bad decisions.

before he even knew what he was doing, the businessman was kicking his door open and stepping out, out into the brisk winter morning.

the bus had come to a stop you were shuffling on inside, so his eyes focused on the windows as he approached, keeping them zeroed on you, pinpointing your exact seat when you settled in, and then he reached the steps, heart pounding.

was he nervous?

was he excited?

he’d made it just in time, and the driver quirked a brow as he climbed the steps into the vehicle, standing out more with his starched cotton shirt and his shiny, expensive shoes than any other of the middle class civilians taking public transport. he knew they were looking at him, all of them, and he hated it, but he hurried his way to the back of the cramped bus, and stole the empty seat next to you from a little, old woman who was about to sit down.

he pretended not to see her, and she didn’t make a scene ( thankfully, for him ), and instead hobbled away to hopefully find somewhere to sit down.

he didn’t even look at you, even though you turned and flashed him a polite smile. he stared straight ahead, into the back of the seat in front of him. they were high enough that he couldn’t see who was in the seat or what they were doing. that meant the one he was sitting in was the same.

perfect.

he turns to you, trembling at the anticipation of what he was about to demand you do for him, but his eyes widen— a thick lump catching in his throat as he catches sight of you pinching the edge of the mitten to pull your hand from the warmth. he had been sweating since he was sitting in his car, so he hadn’t noticed how toasty it was on the bus, the heaters working to combat the freezing outside world. Yoshikage merely stares at your exposed hand, watching those lithe and skillful digits grip the opposite mitten to release its twin from its warm prison. his heart pounded hard against his rib cage, his stare turning lusty and depraved as it trickles over the shape of your fingers. from tip to knuckle, with a graceful bend and nary a nick or bump— flawless. his cock throbs and he’s forced to clench his jaw, lest a moan slip out.

but he can’t stop himself— his sudden reach, or the tight fist he wraps around your gentle wrist. it’s warm to the touch and he feels like melting right there. you gasp, eyes big, mittens falling in your lap.

“S— sir?” you ask, uncertain, and Yoshikage can feel resistance as you try to pull your arm free, so he tightens his grip.

“Shh.” it’s a cold and demanding sound, but it shuts you right up. Kira’s eyes stare straight ahead, even as he fights against your reluctance and guides your gentle palm to press against his crotch. when your fingers come in contact with the hardness in his slacks, the urge to scream threatens to overwhelm your senses. you didn’t want this, and you could make it stop if you could only get the bus driver’s attention, but you’re too frightened. the look in this stranger’s eyes is nearly a threat in itself— they’re dark and soulless, and you can see that even without making direct contact with them.

what would he do to you if you tried to scream?

you were too afraid of those eyes to find out.

so, against your better judgment, you keep your lips tightly sealed and pray he just lets you go.

he elicits a heavy, shuddering breath when he forces your palm against his tent, and you can see one eyebrow twitching. “So soft,” he mutters under his breath, his free hand working on his zipper. your eyes well up with hot, nervous tears as you bite down harshly on your lower lip, trying once more to tug your hand away from his. he squeezes your wrist tight and shoves your hand into the gap provided once his fly is undone, wrapping your unwilling fingers around a thick, hard cock that throbs in your palm. “Your hands are so soft,” he breathes out, shaky, and his hips jut forward. he controls your grasp at his base, pulling the member through the threshold of his zipper, to allow it to stand tall and point towards his abdomen.

you avert your eyes the moment you catch a glimpse, opting to also stare straight ahead with a trembling lower lip and muffled whimpers of protest dying on your tongue. it didn’t seem like he cared, either way, because he had guided your fist up towards the swollen tip to gather a drizzle of warm precum, before pushing it back down to coat his cock in the slickness, before setting a quick pace of full strokes from base to tip, his hand clamping over yours to ensure you don’t let go.

“So warm, that feels good. Better than a wet mouth,” he was moaning, loudly, losing himself in the sensation of a hand so perfect for him to fit right into. “Better than a tight cunt, those pretty hands of yours were made to be fucked…” your cheeks burned hot with humiliation, because his grunting had certainly drawn the attention of a pair of passengers in the seats parallel with you, but you noticed that they only watched for a moment, and then pretended not to hear, both their faces red and turned away from the scene. surely, they had seen the unwillingness in your features, the tears welled up in your eyes? did they simply not care? or was it something more— were they, too, afraid to get involved? did the man’s ominous aura seep out and invade their row, had he cut them a warning glance, was he so frightening that no one would help you?

it appeared so.

“I knew they would be,” he groans, thrusting his hips upwards, his head lolling against the back of the seat as his cock slides through the tight hole he shaped your hand into, harder— faster. needier. “From the second I saw you out there, I knew your hands would be pretty, small and soft, and I just couldn’t wait to feel your delicate, little fingers wrapped around my cock.” you flinch when he leans closer, digging his chin into your shoulder so that he may kiss at your cheek, and a single tear escapes. it rolls down to meet his lips and he parts them, gathering the saline on his tongue as he traces your cheekbone.

“This is— this is my stop.” you whisper, petrified when the brakes squeal and the bus shudders to a halt. you can see your job, a little cafe, just on the corner. but the man didn’t move. a massive group of patrons file out of the bus, but he keeps you blocked in. you shift in your seat, wet eyes flickering to him for the first time since the assault started. his features were twisted in euphoria, hips working like pistons, and his brows were furrowed, even as he drags his parted lips over your cheek and towards your ear lobe. “P—please let me get off.” your voice is trembling, and you’re recoiled against the cold wall, wishing to escape his traveling mouth.

“I’ll let you off when I’ve cum.” he muttered, a harshness sharpening the edge of his moan. you zip your lips to muffle a plea that you knew he wouldn’t care about, and watch helplessly as the doors close and the bus takes off once more, trapping you on the ride until this stranger decided he was finished with you. “Give me that other, lovely hand…” he demands, reaching for it, and you don’t try to snatch it free when he drags it to his mouth, grateful that he’s no longer breathing hot air and moaning in your ear. instead, he kisses your fingers, one by one, as his hips buck more furiously, and his eyelids flutter. “I’d love to take you home with me,” he purrs, tongue lazing out to trace your quivering knuckles, pupils blown out from lust, “rest assured these soft hands of yours please me more than the ones waiting for me at home ever could, but she is the jealous type…”

you noticed that his fist over yours had tightened, and he was breathing heavier now, quick puffs against your palm as he nuzzles it, and you knew he was close. his thick cock twitched in your grip, veins bulging, and you stare down at it now. the sight alone was enough for your core to tremble, soaking a small, damp patch through your panties. it shouldn’t have made you wet, watching this stranger get off on your hand, but it does.

a soft whimper, and you snap your knees and your eyes closed at the same time when he comes completely undone, lest you find yourself aroused by the sight of warm, white streamers coating your digits and casting sticky webs over the back of your hand.

“This will simply have to be our little secret, now won’t it?” he asks, as he suckles on your clean hand, swirling his tongue around between your fingers and tracing the lines on your palm. his hips shudder, and slow down as the final spurts coat his hand and yours, and dribble on to the seat between your bodies. you didn’t answer, you were holding your breath, until he finally pried your hand off of him and set it into your lap. then, you crack a lid to peek at him, and watch him tuck himself away, spent, back into his slacks. he doesn’t even look at you, his stoic expression returning, as if nothing had ever happened. you rode along until the next stop like this, in silence, with his release drying to a sticky glue on your hand.

it wasn’t until the bus stopped that he shifts, straightening his back and angling his legs so that you may climb out, and just as you’re about to scramble past him, he grabs your wrist one more time. your heart pounds hard against your chest, and he gives it one, fleeting kiss. “Don’t tell anyone about this,” he warns in a harsh whisper, “or I may not be so gentle next time.” then, he releases you, and before he could have another chance, you’re flying down the aisle and jumping out of the bus. you watch it disappear— no, you watch him stare at you through the window as it disappears, and realize that you will be seeing him again, whether you want to or not.