leafcries

[leafcries]

while I've got mixed feelings about Eden, I love the concept. so here <3

Pairing: M!Eden the hunter x F!pc/reader

Content warnings. MDNI: dark fic. heavy noncon. fingering. p in v. liddol bit of pussy slaps. mean and gross Eden. pc is teetering on the edge of madness. mentions of self-loathing/worthlessness. a sprinkle of dissociation. manhandling. at some point, it's mentioned that 'pc weighs nothing to him', but it simply means that Eden is so strong (he's a hunter after all). pc is called 'bird' sometimes but that doesn't imply she has a bird transformation; it simply is a nickname (although you're free to imagine pc as you like). Stockholm (kinda). yandere. if there are any tags you believe I've missed let me know!

a/n: this was a labor of love lol. squeezed this out by writing a few lines/paragraph a day because I've got exams still. I hope you enjoy!

Eden did not expect the pretty bird he had been watching to come to him on her own accord.

Sure, it's a little different from what he had imagined. Waking up to the door getting rattled so harshly he swore he'd put a bullet between the eyes of whoever that is, only to be met with a barrel lifted to his head once he opened the door. He recognized you at once– how could he not? What with you being the sole thing occupying his mind, haunting it, more like, with images he had only the chance of glimpsing from afar. And now–

You're looking up at him with dilated, bloodshot eyes veiled in a fierce glare, but if he gazes a little closer, a little longer, he'd pluck out a sliver of terror behind it. A terrified thing at his doorstep pretending to be all-that, not sure of what she's doing. The gun in your hand is shaking as you point it at him, teeth grinding in rage as you croak out a brave order to let you inside.

Eden had stared. Your clothes torn, skin sun-starved, an ugly gash that's caked in dried blood and dirt at your exposed torso. Feet bare and dirty. Hair matted. And he's been wondering why the pretty thing who bounds into the forest and digs up questionable items, hoards them into the little nest she creates with her arms and skidaddles away hasn't shown up in a month. After all, it's been precisely a month since he decided that idle birdwatching wasn't gonna do it for him; he wanted to hunt his bird and cage it; protect it, more like. He doesn't like to think himself this cruel. The world is so full of predators, after all, and the way you look right now is solid evidence.

He doesn't realize how bewitched he is by your sudden appearance until you bark another order at him, drenched with more aggressiveness than the first time, and he doesn't fail to notice the nervous glimpse you throw over your shoulder even when you try to hide it.

He steps aside, and you bound in with a slight limp.

It's more clear than ever that you didn't think your plan through, now that you're standing before him. The gun you had snatched off the person who had grappled you to the forest ground earlier feels foreign in your hand, yet you never lower it as you go by the table, hunger stricken, wild red-rimmed eyes hunting for something you could use to squander the ache in your belly. He doesn't take his eyes off of you either. Closes the door with his body facing you.

“I–” your throat contracts when you attempt to speak, and you cough. Parched. To speak means to pour tremendous effort; energy that you so desperately lack, but you manage it only for a few words. “–will leave shortly. W.. worry not.”

And it feels silly assuring this beast of a man. Perhaps thinking the gun in your hand an object that instills trepidation– which is precisely what you intend, but a buried layer of your conscience tells you of a need to reassure him you mean no harm, for the gun seems to you an instrument that wields power. A talisman of control in a mind that's spiraling into madness; a promise of safety in the guise of steel and fire. Some divine power that would carve a world where you're allowed a chance to command respect, to assert your will upon a world that had often left you staggeringly powerless.

Between the table (that you use as a barrier between the two of you) and the door (where he stands ominously) is a good few feet, yet not only his stature makes the space seem small, but also the air surrounding him shrinks the sense of safety you had initially prompted. He stares you down while your eyes widely flit between him and the interior of his cabin, arm cramping due to your refusal of lowering your weapon.

He moves, and you flinch. Pauses, gives you a weird look (perhaps to question why you were so wary of him, completely abandoning the notion that while he's seen you before, familiarized himself with you, you haven't), then walks over to the side. Your hand trembles as it follows him with the barrel, but then he merely produces a plate. Leftovers. Your eyes zeroes in on them.

You resist lunging at the sight of food. Animalistic. Primal; somewhere in the back of your mind had been readied to reduce yourself to the act of cannibalism were you to not find a bite. But he thuds the plate down in front of you, and something in his chest expands at the sight; perhaps pride, or giddiness at the thought of being a saviour of some sort. For, after all, you looked everything a wild, wounded animal; someone stripped off humanity and forced to keep living; to survive. A stray that he so willingly took in.

Eden watches you snap. Watches as you scramble forward, taking handful after handful of food and shoving it into your mouth with no care for decorum. It's amusing, however, how the gun resides still in your hand. Like an extension of yourself. At some point you don't notice, he'd filled you a bowl of water, which you greedily chug without so much looking at him. It is then he realizes this is his chance; Eden is invisible to you as of now, even without putting any effort in concealing his movement. You're simply there in body, not in mind, acting upon pure instinct.

The only thing that convulses your brain back to alertness is the sound of a click, and something heavy and cold around your neck. You shriek, whip around savagely, point the gun up at him and pull the trigger.

Nothing comes. Your eyes widen, your body shakes, a strangled whimper resonates from your throat as you pull the trigger again and again and again, thinking that somehow it would change. That it would refill on its own. That a bullet would materialize inside the muzzle by some divine intervention. Alas, the gun's empty, and there's no changing that.

In that moment, the gun was truly an extension of yourself; helpless, powerless, a hollow vessel concealed by an imposing presence. Eden slowly traces his hand up to wrap around the gun that you still absentmindedly fire, eyes wide and frozen in shock and panic. It slips from your fingers and into his without tussle, despite it being basically inseparable from you seconds ago. In his other hand a leash that he attaches to the collar he clicked around your neck.

Your stance shifts, blinking yourself back to reality, and Eden notices, quick to adapt to your unpredictability, because you lunge at him, thrashing and clawing and screeching. It only takes a harsh tug of the leash downwards and a rumble of his grave voice to render you put. “Down, girl.”

You tumble down, knees hitting the floor hard, and he goes down with you. Crouching before you to grab your wrist with his free hand, feeling up to your elbow before he lifts it. You wince, the gaping wound on your torso stretching, flesh stinging as he inspects it. He's close enough for you to smell the scent of pine and earth that clings to him, like he's the embodiment of the forest and not just a hunter that it took in.

You have to ground yourself when he speaks, his voice rich and rumbling, threatening to plunge you into full panic. “Were you chased?”

You mewl quietly.

“By the wolves?”

You manage to raise your head and meet his eyes. “..no.”

Eden reaches for your tattered shirt, and tears it right off. Your muscles go taut, hysteria seizing your mind once again and your limbs launch to action, flailing about ferally to desperately push him away. He pushes you back on the floor, pinning your legs with his knees and seizing both your wrists in one hand. “I'm helping you, goddammit,” he hovers above and glares, then his gaze goes down, lingers on your bare breasts for a beat, then down to your side where the wound your blood cells worked so hard to plug has opened and started bleeding again.

For a moment, he ponders how to get up to fetch his medkit without you jerking away and scrambling out the door. He could tie the leash to something, certainly, but in your unstable state he worries you might actively try to choke yourself with it, and although he's nearby and wouldn't let that happen, that would be inconvenient to deal with. He just doesn't want you to hurt yourself further.

But then he looks down again, and realizes he needs not to do a thing. The pain had rendered you inert. Completely still; limp prey bleeding impotently on his floors, agonized soft whimpers leaving your lips occasionally while tears stream quietly down your face. Eden watches as you stare right up at the ceiling, something shifting in your gaze; a film coating your eyes.

You sink, brain morphing to wet cotton that expands till it fills every nook and cranny in your skull. It's like you're swaying in the lake, water seeping through your ears and muffling your surroundings. You keep coming in and out of your haze, everything a blur, and when you finally blink yourself to consciousness (as much consciousness as there might be) you find yourself next to the now blazing fire, leaning back against a sturdy chest. Torso bandaged. Body naked.

Eden holds a wet cloth that he sweeps down your skin, perhaps trying his best to be gentle, but for a man of his nature it's inevitable for it to feel a little rough. He runs the cloth from your neck, to your shoulder, down to your breasts. You're still out of it, no reaction as you absently watch his hand clean you up. He picks up on your growing awareness, though, because his arm suddenly tightens around your middle right beneath your chest just before you start stirring about. Your lips part to speak but your mind fails to catch up with you, so you end up babbling incoherently, pitch gradually rising in distress.

For that, he adjusts you on his lap, shuffling a thigh between your legs and pulling you back further towards himself. You whimper as your clit drags on his clothed thigh. “Easy there,” he says, hot breath hitting the back of your neck, “you're hurt enough.”

“I-” you choke out, swallowing back tears; his hand that splays on your stomach to still you makes your mind reel with memories, “I want to leave.”

“Leave? But where will you ever go?” He speaks, for once picking his words carefully, “doesn't look like you were wanted wherever you were.”

Your throat tightens, and your mind goes to Robin. “I am needed.”

“Whoever needed you has clearly abandoned you.”

You stiffen up. “That is not true. I– I am both–..they want and need me.”

“Someone who truly wants you would never let this happen to you.” Eden says, gravely voice reverberating almost like a baritone would, “tell me: does anyone truly want you, dove?”

You jerk, elbow digging back into him with as much force as you can manage, and he tightens his hold. Folds his body over yours to curl you into yourself. “Tell me,” he growls in your ear, “is the person who abandoned you worth everything you've been through?”

“You don't know anything– y- you know nothing!” you shrill, but he doesn't give you a chance to proceed, doubling down.

“Is it worth all of this exertion? Haven't you been running for too long?” He dips his words into the knowledge he's gathered from watching you months ago, and his hand starts moving south when he sees you've gone rigid at his words, “don't you want someone who'll take charge for a change? Someone who wants you, protects you, takes care of you for once?”

Something about his voice, about the way he utters his words rather than the words themselves, penetrates your skull, shoving past all tissue and blood and presses directly on your brain. His middle finger ventures down, runs above the hood of your clit. “I want you.” Eden says, gently drags his finger along your seam now, coaxing the lips open by stroking the pad of his finger up and down, and he continues, “I'll take care of you, provide for you.”

You turn into mush. Words you've been craving to hear but have not dared to entertain the thought of actually hearing them. The slow circles he traces on your clit might be another reason you're melting, but you're too lost in the fantasy of being cared for to register that. His hold on you tightens further, as if he knows what he says next will break you out of the trance he's managed to tuck you under this far. “You only have to stay.”

Your eyes snap into focus.

“Stay here. Keep me company. Never leave.”

Many things force their way into your mind. Self-loathing deems you unworthy of affection and care, of being provided for and not the one providing; another part of your mind refuses comfort, having adapted itself to pain and misery, having acquainted itself with it and, therefore, finds comfort in anguish. There are also memories that stream forth, overflooding your head until it pounds with pain, forcing you to realize you've merely escaped a den to jump into another, whether deliberately or not.

And when you process that, you bristle and try to kick your feet, but he folds you in, chest morphing into your back with how much he squishes you to him. “I don't think you realize, but you don't have a say in this.” He says, prodding at your hole and gradually pushing a thick finger inside, relishing in the way your jaw slacks despite yourself. “You are to stay. This is meant to be. We are meant to be.”

He glides his finger further in, coaxing out fluids that squelch with every drag. “You came to me on your own accord. And while I am not a believer, I do believe fate guided your legs to me, right where you belong.”

He ignores your high cries and squawks, your thrashing and squirming (as much as his hold allows, at least), your nails digging into the muscle of his arm and scratching with fervor until it draws blood. Eden adds another finger, listening to your cries mingling with forfeited moans, and thrusts them faster until your heels dig to the floor and you drench his fingers with your cum.

Your orgasm is still crashing through you when he tucks his arm beneath your knees and adjusts you until they meet your chest, seated on the cradle of his thighs. His fingers withdraw promptly just to return as four, and he wedges the tips of them between the split of your lips and shakes them, tearing strangled moans from your throat that turn into squeals when he follows with a few slaps to your cunt.

He doesn't give you enough time to process nor to react before you're on your back, next to the fire, lifting your ankles onto his shoulders. “Eden,” he says, and the head of something hot and hard nudges your hole, “my name. Use it.”

Then he's bullying his cock past your folds, pushing past the tight ring of muscle and groaning loud and long. He stretches your walls to the hilt, and shoves his dick in until it's buried to the base in one long thrust. It strips your lungs of breath, knocking it out of you as he pulls you further into him, lifting your hips so they perch on his lap. Your eyes are blown, jaw slack with a silent moan, still trying to adjust to his impalement.

But he moves before you do. His hands latch onto your hips, digging his fingers into your flesh and indenting his mark there with mad bruises. Eden drags his hips back until only the head is notched in you, before he slams back in. He settles a brutal pace soon, thighs smacking your ass as he fucks you with short and hard thrusts, pulling only halfway out as if it pains him to separate from your squelching cunt any further.

Your whole body jostles with every ram. Doesn't leave you enough room to breathe in and steals what little air you manage out in pathetic whimpers. You reach out with your hands, gasping and blubbing, so he leans down until you can reach him. You latch your nails to his skin, clawing up until they hook at the front of his neck. Eden hisses, and the force of his thrusts amplifies. When you expect him to retreat in pain, he smiles dangerously down at you, gaze darkening and bottom lip catching beneath his teeth.

He leans down further, allowing you to scrape more at his skin, watching as you leave angry red lines down his throat and around his collarbones. “Is it too much for you?” Eden heaves, hitting deep and hard and smirking when the fattest part of his cock seems to ram into your g-spot, judging by your reaction. “Too big for you, bird?”

When you gasp and nod, he grips your hips harder and stops moving his hips altogether. Instead, he starts moving you, bouncing you onto his cock as if you weigh nothing to him, as if you were a fleshlight; a toy he can maneuver and use however he wishes. “Use my name.” He groans, starting to get breathless, “say it. Tell me it's too much.”

But he's mean as he bullies the spot he's found earlier over and over, knocking the words out of you and rendering you into a blubbering mess while still demanding you to speak. Eden hisses. “Say it.”

“‘s t-too mu..ch..!”

“My name, bird.”

And you have to grapple around your mind and fetch the moment he made his name known to you. He makes it particularly hard as he bumps your hips up onto his searing rock-hard cock, but you succeed at remembering, and finally cry out. “E-Eden! sl-ow down–!”

The only thing his name coming out of your lips does is wrench a growl from his throat, and your legs are suddenly up on one shoulder of his. He perches your hips up and pistons into you, somehow harder and faster than before. You thrash and squeal, but no matter what you do, he moves with you, predicting every direction you blindly throw yourself in to get away. And he's made it clear that your scramble for some sort of power means nothing to him the moment he had lowered himself to you earlier so you could hit and scrape his flesh. Taunting you to hit him as hard as you could, for he can never get hurt.

It takes no more than a few particularly hard thrusts to send you over the edge. You spasm against him, convulsing with a cry that makes his dick throb inside you before he sends his seed deep into your cunt. Hot and thick and fills you up until you're overflowing with it, which finally makes him unplug you, slipping his softening cock out and watching his cum plop right out, trickling down to your asshole.

The sight bewitches him, and he stares in awe for a while as it dribbles, before he reaches with a finger to scoop some of it up, only to smear it on your swollen folds like it's some sort of lotion. He's so entranced it takes him a moment to realize you're passed out; exhausted, and still heaving.

That's when he learns he simply needs to keep wearing you out until you're trained. And over the course of the following week(s), Eden sprouts a set of bruises and harsh scratches, some of them deep enough to urge his blood to clot around them. And he wears them proudly, knowing that it only takes a good, rough fucking to get you soft and pliant again, to wear you out until you sit and eat in silence. Like a stray cat, he says, hissing and seething her claws until she gets a big, hefty cock in her wet cunt. It might take some time for you to stop trying to claw his eyes out, but he's willing to train you until you finally realize this is the life you were meant for.

With him. For him.

[leafcries]

GAASSPP OMG HII MOTHYYY YEAG ITS ME DNBDHXNSNDHD

IM SORRG FOR DISAPPEARING ABRUPTLY JSJS account got terminated for some reason (AGAIN) and I wasn't as much into dol as I used to so I didn't bother emailing tumblr about it nfbcjdn omG I MISS YOUUU

@leafcries LEAFY IS THAT U???

OMG I WAS SO WORRIED WHEN YOUR ACCOUNT SHOWED UP AS DEACTIVATED 😭😭😭

[leafcries]

okay OKAY LISTEN hear me out. Bailey is a bitch, we've all established that by now, and he has way too much influence over doltown. Again, something we know very well. Naturally, he's got lots of enemies and people who want him dead.

Yeah? Yeah, okay.

You're an assassin hired to kill this hulk of a man (my headcannon is that he's huge and I love that. Miguel O'Hara type of body). Of course, you're immediately refusing. This is Bailey we're talking about after all.

But your boss has you in a tight situation, threatening to put your loved ones through indescribable acts of torture. So you keen and acquiesce; your hands are tied, and you can do nothing but attempt to assassinate him. In your boss's words, the client who's hired you is paying extremely handsomely for even an attempt.

You know you're walking to your death when you accepted the job. The only way you could think of was to seduce Bailey, which weirdly works quite easily; something you're still perplexed over.

So when you have him beneath you, kissing down his jaw and branding his neck with feather-light kisses (that you spend longer than you'd admit on), you slither your hand across your thigh and pull out your hidden dagger.

When his eyes widen up at you, you know that you've concealed your identity so well that the Bailey had no idea you're an assassin. But as the blade grazes his chest right before you plunge it into him, he cums. Hard. Stains his pants that you still haven't rid him off (not that you ever planned on doing so. It was either killing him before anything happens, or getting killed before anything happens).

And you're so bewildered by it that you just freeze. Both of you staring at eachother with wide eyes as his cock continues to twitch in his ruined pants.

Idk just the idea of Bailey getting painfully hard and not being able to hold himself back when this pretty little thing tries to assassinate him is just so <<333

[leafcries]

Minors please do not fucking interact I will hunt your dreams and sacrifice your firstborn (please tho fr, stay away.)

I'm in a bit of a hard and soft mood so here's some Whitney brainrot.

Because he fucks you senseless in front of everyone to see until you can't form coherent words, cock-drunk and babbling nonsense while your eyes roll back. Digs his hand into your hair and pulls your head back so everyone can drool at the sight of your fucked out expression as he pounds into you, ruining your pretty little hole. Letting it form a puddle on the ground because you're just so messy and your pussy is such a slut; it can't help but weep and gush for him.

"Let them see," he had leaned down to rumble into your ear when you once mewled about everyone watching and how embarrassing it is. "Let them watch. They should know how much of a slut you are f'me. How good I fuck you stupid."

Makes effort to pry your hair out of your face just so your fat tears are on full display as he wrenches another orgasm out of you. "Fuckin' hell." He laughs, then abuses your cunt some more with harsh thrusts until it's all creamed and full of his cum. Full of him him him.

He only pulls out once he's sure he had emptied his balls into you, then fucking chuckles as he spreads your folds for the audience, his cum flowing out of your swollen cunt in thick globs.

But then, when you're in his bed, splayed out for none other but his eyes, he's almost gentle. Cooing at you with a pout to his lips as he sinks into you. "I know, I know.." even his voice is tender, his arms engulfing your middle and pulling you closer to him. "It's big, I know, sweet slut. You can take it. You're a good, filthy slut; you can take it."

And you take it. Let him coax you into stretching you out and conquering every spot in your walls until he's hammering into you, pretty tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

"Atta girl– fuck me, atta fucking girl! You dirty fucking slut!" He groans and rasps. And he can barely hold himself back from filling you up on the spot; your lovely little cunt clenching around him so deliciously, begging to be painted with his seed. "You gonna be a good slut f'me and make me cum? Yeah? Yeah– yeah, you do. C'mon, say it with me: Good...fucking...slut."

Your face burns from repeating his words and burns brighter when he makes you do it again when it's not clear enough. It's not your fault; he's hitting all the right places, dragging his cock against your scorching hot walls just the right way. You can't help but mess up and cry out in jumbled mumbles. And when you finally succeed, he leans down to kiss you, messy and filthy, doesn't care that you're drooling on his sheets.

He chuckles against your lips. "Yeah. That's what you are." Sings out in a sultry voice, giving you one last peck before sending ropes of his cum into your cunt. "A good fucking slut."

A/N: no grammar no nothin 🗣🗣🗣🗣 only horny thoughts leave me be aaaa

[leafcries]

Completely induced by pre-period horniness 🫡

"Welcome to my shop-to-be," Sirris says, placing the crate at his feet and reaching inside. "It was a hobby at first, but a friend suggested there'd be a market for them."

Okay. Being that friend for Sirris.

Pairing: M! Sirris x F! Reader

Content. MDNI: switch!Sirris, switch!Reader, lots of sex toys, some oral, overstimulation, edging, Reader is not pc here (this is set a bit back in time), don't worry lil Sydney doesn't hear or see anything because these mostly happen at reader's home.

This is not proofread. I'm sorry pookie

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Nothing in this universe gave any signs that the friendly neighbor from across the street, who's a single dad to the most adorable child you've ever seen, would be a freak in bed. You'd be lying if you said you haven't been pining after him since the second you found out he's single. But you didn't expect him to be the one breaking the ice.

It was a day when he ran into you after you'd had a particularly bad day at work. He watched you fumble and stumble, hissing and grumbling to yourself, almost breaking down in wails when your keys slipped through your fingers. That day, he had put his kid to sleep before knocking on your door and proceeding to give you the most mind-shattering orgasm(s) a man has ever given you on your own bed.

"Looking so pretty f'me, baby." He had whispered with his head between your thighs while you quivered and cried out that it's too much and you can't give more. Sirris only replied by holding your hips down on the mattress and keeping your legs open for him, looking almost offended that you're denying him of his feast. "Mm, yes, you can. C'mon, pretty, give me one more, yeah?"

And the tone of his voice was always so gentle. So soft and caring as he whispered filth in your ear. How could you ever deny the man who cooed praises at you, calling you the most beautiful, while fucking your brains out? So, you squealed his name some more, and he indulged in your pleasure a lot more.

Ever since that day, it's become an occasional thing, growing frequent with the days as you can't seem to keep your hands off each other. It's only natural to find out his love for toys when you two were jumping at every opportunity to see each other. You had beamed at him when he mentioned wanting to try a few toys out and gave him the green light to use and try any kind of toy he wants on you. Sirris was never happier.

The glass dildo was his favorite. Loves watching your cum smear and paint it and your slick not leaving an inch untouched as he pounds it into you. He's mesmerized by the sight, watching the clear view of your cunt fluttering around it and your sweet, sticky folds greedily sucking the clear shaft. He never stops at one orgasm, only satisfied when you're crying out with the third before hastily removing it and plunging himself into you instead, his eyes rolling back into his skull at the feeling of your tight hot walls kissing every spot of his cock.

"Fuck, baby– Thought I stretched you out good?" He chuckles while hovering over you, and such is the sight of a gorgeous man sweating and heaving over you, because of you, that it makes you cum on the spot. And Sirris is a tease, because he laughs at you with a shaky voice when you cum so quick (even though he knew you would), his bottom lip catching under his teeth while he smiles down at you.

"Princess couldn't hold back?" He purrs, feigning sympathy as you give one last pathetic twitch. You whimper with a soft glare at his teasing, to which he laughs again before dragging his cock along your sensitive walls. You jolt in overstimulation, and Sirris folds you in half, pressing your knees to your chest before he's abusing your poor pussy at an unforgiving pace.

"Hah- fuck. Sweet girl so good for me. Taking me in so well, baby. Make me cum, make me cum- just like that yes yes– shit. Squeeze me like that. Fuck!"

The Rose toy, while he admitted its efficiency, he didn't like it much. He had no shame in telling you that he's jealous of it. Once, it made you squirt, and while he let out a surprised (and an approving) laugh, he immediately tossed it aside, gripping your hips and dragging you across the sheets till your legs dangled off the bed, and his mouth latched onto you instead.

It's safe to say that he didn't let off until you squirted again, this time with his mouth, and then he pulled out two more just because.

Now you didn't know how to feel about shibari, not until Sirris taped a vibrator to your inner thigh and made it press onto your clit. With the ropes in the way, no matter how much you squirmed and thrashed and mewled and tried running away from the overwhelming vibrations, everything stayed in place. What took this to the next level was the silk blindfold Sirris carefully covered your eyes with, gentle voice not missing a beat to ask if this is comfortable or if it's too tight.

Not being able to see while also being immobile did things to you. Made you gush and soak the sheets. Made you jolt in surprise whenever his mouth sucked and bit at your nipples or when his fingers would pinch and pull lightly at them. Made you buck your hips and squeal when his cock -or maybe one of the dildos he kept- pushed into you while the vibrator kept buzzing away. God, you felt so used, and you loved it.

Almost everything always ended with Sirris stuffing you full with his cock at the end, though. Filling you up and patting your belly with a chuckle, his fingers tracing the outline of his dick on your skin as if imprinting it there. The aftercare was always immaculate, too, and he never failed to make you feel safe and loved at the end.

It wasn't always you getting the toys used on. Sirris was more than enthusiastic to let you blindfold him while jerking him off with a fleshlight sometimes. He's also taught you how to tie him up just like he did to you, and it took a bit of time, but once you managed to do it, it was revenge.

You kissed his neck while tweaking his nipples, rolling your open palm against the buds and pinching lightly; it's how you found out how sensitive he's actually there, and how much it turned him on to have his nipples played with and sucked, his cock straining painfully and twitching against his belly, weeping tip leaving sticky beads of precum on his skin.

While he loved to overstimulate you, you loved to edge him until he started begging and whimpering.

"Please please– I'll be good. I'll be good, I promise!" Sirris is a trembling mess, and his voice is no better, shaking as he begs you to touch him properly and make him cum. "Fuck me. Please fuck me– wanna cum, wanna cum so bad."

But you only kiss his flushed, pretty tip and glide your tongue across the slit before you're letting go again. Prior to this, you never knew you were into watching men crumble and whimper beneath you. For you. The new discovery made your cunt throb and your walls flutter and clench around nothing.

"You want me to fuck you, pretty boy? Feel my pussy clamp down on your cock and milk it?" You ghost your hand over his rock-hard cock, dragging your fingers ever so subtly along the length, tracing each beautiful prominent vein. "Want to fill me up? To paint me white?"

He whines out your name and you almost cum untouched. Your thighs are already drenched with how much you're dripping, but you wanted to hold back, see how much he can take. With trembling hands, you reached for the bullet vibrator. Sirris throws his head back with a moan once you fix the vibrator on his penis with bondage tape.

You hurry to take his blindfold off, and he looks at you with lust-drunk eyes, heavy lidded and cloudy. A whimper slips from your mouth, kiss-bitten lips quivering as you use the best of your willpower to pull away and sit right in front of him.

Sirris bucks his hips and moans and groans while you fuck yourself in front of him with the glass dildo, his vibrator set on low to drive him further down the path of insanity. "Ma'am– please," he chokes out, "I need to– aah. need to c-cum.."

And so you succumb at last. Throwing the toys away and sinking down on his cock, unable to hold back against his pretty noises that are driving you mad with lust. It should be illegal for a man to be this fine. Once he's got you wrapped around his cock, he's driving up into you madly, the ropes going loose around his arms. And he's hoisting your hips up and down at once, making you bounce on his dick while his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass– you probably needed more practice tying him up.

Both of you are a quivering, moaning mess when you cum. It almost makes you question whether Sydney, who's sleeping in the house across the street, can hear you. It's ridiculous, but it feels almost real what with the noises you freaks let out.

"You know a lot about these." Once you're cuddled up on his chest with his arm draped across your back, you point out, and he hums in questioning. "Sex toys. Well– sex, too, in general."

"Hmm. It's fun." He rasps, voice hoarse, "I think it's appropriate to say it's a hobby of mine."

"You can make a business out of it."

"Hm?"

Sirris watches as you pick your head up from his chest to meet his eyes. "Selling sex toys. You've always answered every question I've had about any toy. You also know safety measures and whatnot." You say, "I think you'd do a great job selling them."

He only chuckles and leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips. "You think so?"

[leafcries]

The Harper brain worms are taking over

Pairing: M!Harper x F!pc

Content. MDNI. Noncon, kidnapping, jealous Harper, a sprinkle of yandere Harper, p in v, unprotected, sedated pc who's half-conscious, some hallucinations (I wanted to write more hypnotic stuff but that would've made this way longer so I'm holding back. For now.), tentacles but only for a liddol, fingering, (pc's cum) tasting, and hopefully that's it.

A/N. Snickering to myself as I write and lie 'Harper is a good doctor' kdkxksk

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"It's looking..." There's a sharp intake of air, then a click of a tongue before Harper is finally turning to you, what you assume to be your documents in his hands, "pretty bad."

A grave silence prevails over every corner of the room that seems to only tighten and suffocate you in its white walls. Harper stays silent for a few seconds, only running his eyes over your bewildered, yet concerned, countenance. "Wh... what's looking bad, doctor?" Eventually, you inquire, a brow raising skeptically, "I'm feeling okay?"

He breathes out, turning to set the documents on his desk and taking a moment to force his features to soften, to demolish every attempt of a smile coming out before he turns to you again, a frown drawing his brows together slightly. "Have you been taking any medications without my supervision lately?"

You have. "No, I haven't."

"Well, your tests say you have. You wouldn't lie to your doctor now, would you?" He shakes his head, "because that would be pretty disappointing."

His tone makes you visibly reel back in your seat, a grimace fighting its way to your face. "It's just painkillers." You lie through your teeth, keeping your head held high and alert. You've never taken a liking to the doctor standing before you; always has he given you unpleasant vibes that screamed at you to bolt out of his confined room of an office. You've trusted your guts at that time and changed your doctor, only to notice that something is very wrong with the way your body feels lately. Doctor Harper, very unfortunately, was actually good at his job (or so he appears), and so you reluctantly made your way back to him, only to remember why you changed doctors in the first place.

"Don't underestimate medicine, sweetheart. What have you been taking?"

You've fallen silent once again. All plans of actually fixing whatever the hell was up with your body thrown out the window; you just wanted to get out of here. And so you lie again. "Maybe the tests are wrong. I'm feeling totally fine, and I haven't been taking anything."

"You haven't been attending your weekly checkups." His hands are already dressing up in medical gloves, eyes aren't even on you as he scolds.

"I'm just busy."

"Busy changing doctors?" A final snap announces the gloves are in place as he glances up at you, gaze fixing you in place.

Your lips thin into a line, hands gripping the edge of the bed you're sat on. Harper sighs before you can retort back, shaking his head. "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Look at where you've gotten yourself." He shrugs his hand at you, gesturing to your body, "Now we gotta fix you up, don't we? You wouldn't have gotten into this in the first place were you to listen to me."

"I-I'm late for my shift, actually. Let's discuss this later?" You scramble to get off the bed once he starts approaching. "Next week–"

"No, you don't know how dire your situation is. We have to take action immediately."

You don't even think as you bolt for the door upon noticing a syringe filled and ready in his hand, your hands gripping the handle and harshly tugging. The door rattles in protest and refuses to budge, so you tug it again in case you didn't force it enough the first time, but it only meets your efforts with macabre immutability. When the hell did he lock–

"Trust me, darling, I'm not very happy about doing this either." You would've believed him if it weren't for his breath picking up, a foul grin stretching his lips. "I would've been able to detoxify your body with you conscious, but your test results are extremely alarming. I'm going to have to sedate you for this."

"No. I'm good!" With the door being completely out of the escaping picture, you resort to using what you always use in the streets. You swing your fist at his face once he's close enough, placing a great amount of strength in it; half of it induced by fear, and it works. Harper doesn't seem to expect your sudden attack as he stumbles back, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. It buys you enough time to run to the windows, not caring if the jump would break your fucking legs.

But a surprisingly strong hand yanks you back by your shirt, sending you tumbling back and hitting his desk in the process. Harper lunges at you before you can lunge at him and wrestles you to the floor, seizing your wrists in a firm grip and sitting over your body, rendering you immobile. He was stronger than he looked, and it terrified you to think what he might also be in hidden sight.

"Stay put. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself further now, would you?" Harper's grin only widens as you struggle and writhe underneath him, blood smeared across his face and dripping on your skin. "I'm only trying to help you out."

"I would rather fucking die!" You spit, fiery eyes glaring and legs kicking– trying to kick.

Harper clicks his tongue several times in disappointment as if you were a child who needs to be disciplined. "Such foul words. You shouldn't say that to a doctor. It wounds them." He produces the syringe again, punctures your skin before you can scream in terror in hopes for someone to come running for your aid. "Shh...sh...I've got you." He's got his hand glued to your lower jaw to drown out every screech for help you could utter until your eyes grow impossibly heavy, body falling limp beneath him.

-

When you awaken, it's not at the hospital.

None of the bleak white walls and glaring lights greet you when you flutter your eyes open, head feeling heavy as ever as you struggle to make sense of what could've possibly happened. It's dim in the room, the only light being the street lamps filtering in through the window. It's– wait. Street lamps.

You would've jolted up in the realization that it's nighttime were your body functioning, but all you can feel is– nothing. You can't feel your legs. You can't feel your arms, your hands, your fingers. Panic settles in your veins, your heart palpitating faster with each passing second. You're quick to feel lightheaded with anxiety, heart drumming loudly in your ears. Where the fuck were you–

"You can't move, doll. Don't bother." A soft voice that could only belong to Harper rings out from beside you. Terror-stricken yet unable to move, your eyes flit to your side, and there he is. A gentle smile adorns his rather gentle features as he lays beside you. "Don't worry, it's going to wear off eventually. You're safe with me."

You're anything but safe with him. Your eyes can only follow his hand as he moves to toy with a strand of your hair, idly twirling it around his fingers before bringing it to his face, breathing in deeply then kissing it. He sits up, twisting around to grab a glass of water and a pill from the nightstand. "This will make you feel better."

You press your lips together at once, jaw clenching and refusing to open your mouth as he presses the pill to your lips. He frowns, pushes it further until it clashes against your teeth. "Yeah?" He says, before forcing your jaw open with a hand clenching the sides of your face. "Should I really teach you a lesson to listen to your doctor?" He forces the pill into your mouth before hurriedly holding the glass to his lips. Soon are his lips on yours, passing the water through his mouth and tipping your head in a way that would force you to swallow.

"There we go." He pulls away then immediately yanks at your skirt, pulling it all the way down your legs. Your panties are pushed to the side and, despite how dry you are, your pussy welcomes his finger. He only glides it along your folds, but you feel yourself getting weirdly wet way too quickly.

"Did you really think you could fool me?" He huffs, out of breath already even though he's barely touched you, a manic grin spreading his lips. He isn't even trying to hide it the way he usually does at your appointments. No. There's no need. Not when he has you all for himself, all docile and vulnerable for all his fantasies and wicked intentions. "Did you think I wouldn't notice when my favorite patient starts frequenting other doctors? You're so cute. So dumb."

Then he pushes his finger into you, and he moans at the sight, at the sensation of your warm cunt, and at how your pussy makes those adorable squelching sounds when he starts fucking his finger into you. An exhilarated laugh leaves him when you start making small whimpery noises, which only leads him to push another finger into you.

Whatever he made you swallow was taking a toll on your mind. Harper was starting to look blurry, hazy, and even a bit disoriented. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision but only starting to see something taking shape around him. "Mmh.." You blabber as if to alert him, but he only chuckles in that frightening tone of his.

"What's that, darling? I can't understand you."

"Mnngh..." another trial that only proves your tongue to be too heavy to form actual words. Harper suddenly fingers you faster, forcing moans out of you, and then you feel it. Slimy and wet and sticky, sliding across your legs and all the way to your thighs, slipping under your shirt and caressing your tummy. Your breath shakes, both from Harper's assault and fear. Blobs, thick and thin, taking multiple shapes and sizes, vaguely resembling tentacles, surround you.

You feel them getting closer to where Harper is coaxing fluids out of you. You feel them circle your nipples and latch onto them. You feel them snake around your thighs and spread them further, or that might be you gaining some control in the sense that you can slightly move your body, just not upon your conscious command.

With a strained voice, you whimper, both scared and on the very edge of climaxing. You don't know if you want to push him away - if you had the strength - or to hold onto him in fear of the tentacles. "H-Ha..pa.."

"That's my name."

Then you're gushing around his fingers, pussy squeezing them so delightedly and covering them in your sweet sweet slick. "Oh yes– fuck, fuck yes. Squeeze my fingers like that!" Harper might be hyperventilating with the way he pants, his usual self-control nowhere to be found as he hastens to pull his hard cock out of his pants, his hand wrapping around it and pumping in time with the clenching of your walls.

"Sweet doll." He withdraws his fingers at last, laughing as he presses them together only to spread them apart, watching your slick form sticky threads between them. He brings his fingers close to his mouth, lolling out his tongue and moaning loudly as he twirls it around them before sucking them completely into his mouth.

He takes his time tasting you, savoring every drop with a moan, not bothering to hide how hard he's getting and how his flushed tip leaks precum on your thigh. Meanwhile, you're fighting the urge to cry, to wail as something else plays with your slit. Slimy and thin and you feel it fluttering around your twitching hole. Harper doesn't react to it, as if it's not even there, but you can very clearly feel it. It must be there!

"Mm, so..." Harper says, finally letting his fingers out and giving them a last lick, "so sweet. Here. Taste yourself." His fingers dip into your cunt so suddenly it makes you jolt a bit, and he gathers your cum and slick before it's pushed into your mouth. "See? You taste good."

He doesn't stop there. Toys with your tongue like it's his right, feeling the warm muscle beneath his fingertips, not taking his fingers out until he's sure you've cleaned them of your cum, and covered them instead with your saliva. Harper is entranced as he watches you as if he's the one under the influence; his eyes are half-lidded as they drink you in, and his lips are slightly open, face so flushed and tinted deep red.

His hands grip your hips and he drags you closer to him, his cock nudges at your entrance and suddenly the tentacles that were invading your vision disappear. You gasp, blinking up at the ceiling then at him in confusion, and he smiles so wide when he sees your gaze on him, his ears flushing redder than they already were.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," whispers as he holds your panties to the side and slides in, feeding his cock into your tight slippery hole, his jaw falling slack and eyes rolling back, throat rumbling with a long "fuuuuck..."

He pulls you up, cradling your body against his as he bottoms out. "So– shit, so much better than I imagined."

Harper is up in a second, lifting you with him by his hands that dig into the plush of your ass. "I've always wanted to try this," he whispers before you're lifted until only his tip is snug inside you, then brought down until he's fully enveloped again, cock hitting so deep in your cunt. "Fuck– ah, h-hold onto m– right, you can't." He laughs out of breath, then you're slammed against a wall, weight distributed between him and the cold wall against your back.

He lets one hand move up to shrug your arms around his neck, telling you to be good and try to keep them there. "You can do that, no? Some of that strength must be back by now." He whispers in your ear before he's drilling into you, moaning loudly directly in your ears, even drowning out your own moans with his. "You– have no idea how much I waited for this."

He kisses you, tongue first, licking into your open mouth and groaning with wild abundance. Harper never falters in his thrusts and never makes you feel as if you're about to fall, his grip firm and stronger than you thought him to be. He bites your lower lip as he pulls away then smiles at you. "Do you know how hard it was to hold back? To stop at a few invasive touches but never go far enough to satisfy?"

He angles his hips, hitting spots you didn't know would send you squealing. "To see your cute little ass trot into my office, to sit so fucking prettily, and to talk my ear off about worthless scums trying to get a piece of you when all I can think about is how pretty you'd be split on my dick?"

He slithers his hands from your ass and to the back of your thighs, holding you by them and spreading you open, his gaze falling down to where his cock disappears again and again, getting sucked so hungrily by your greedy cunt. "F-fucking hell. Look at you taking me so well! I knew you could take it."

But then his tone changes, and his thrusts turn harsher, rougher without the usual care he carries. "But then you go off and think you can avoid me by seeing another doctor." He hisses, eyes blown with infatuation yet frustration, "It's okay. Hah, it's okay. You'll always come back to me. I'll make sure of it."

It's only then that you notice. That your eyes focus a bit and zero in on the stains on his shirt. Some of them are brown and dry, but the fresher ones– the fresher ones are tinted crimson, spread about chaotically as if something was squirted messily and splattered his shirt. Harper notices your gaze and laughs, loud and breathless.

"I did it for you. " He stutters and plunges deep within you, pressing into your body as close as possible while his seed splutters your insides, pumping you full of his cum as you moan and follow very close behind, clenching around him and milking him of every drop he's worth. Harper holds you against the wall for a while, until both of you almost catch your breaths.

Your eyes barely stay open as your head lays on his shoulder, more exhausted than you originally were. This time, you notice a small card on the nightstand. Your heart suddenly picks up again when you focus on it, recognizing the bloodied ID as the doctor's you frequented a few times, confirming your suspicions.

Harper seems to know that you're looking directly at it, and he smiles. "I told you I'll make sure of it."

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A/N. Once my writing skills evolve and I can write mind break (and be satisfied with it) it's over for yall

[leafcries]

Robin who's fixated on your boobas <3

Pairings: M!Robin and f!pc.

Content: Robin loving your boobies and drinking from them, (slight) bed humping, oral (f!receiving), mention of masturbaiting, they're in loooovee, no fucking, just Robin taking care of you, don't know what else I think that's it. I don't know how to do tags someone teach me NOW

A/N: uh, so this was supposed to be just Robin getting fixated on your boobs and finally succumbing to your wishes of 'drinking from the source', but my hand slipped and now we're here 🫡 enjoy tho hehe. NOT proofread, btw. I just needed to get this out of my system

Robin who couldn't let his mind off drinking from you the moment you suggested it. Although he declined at first, finding it weird, but later at night, he found himself staring in silence at the wall of his room, zoned out and thinking of how nice they looked while you told him to drink from them. Sitting there, looking so pretty while you leaned back for him, only waiting to be sucked on.

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut for a second to clear his head as he hears footsteps approaching outside his room. He recognizes the rhythm, turns just in time to see you slip in, and he smiles at once while opening his arms. You jump into his arms and snuggle in, and he almost kisses you hello when he notices your makeup.

"You didn't take off your makeup yet."

"Going out in a bit, love."

"Work?" He asks, eyes softening and lips pouting.

You kiss the pout of his lips, then peck his nose before leaning back and smiling apologetically. "Yeah. Can't sleep here tonight."

"Can't you–"

"Robin." You stop him, and reach to pull his hair back and away from his eyes then drag your hand down to caress his face, "You know I can't."

He sighs through his nose, leaning his face into your touch. His hand moves on top of yours, pressing your palm further to his cheek, and he turns his head slightly to kiss your palm. "Stay safe, then."

"Always."

And then he watches you separate from him with a kiss to the crown of his head then leave his room. Robin can't help the way his eyes naturally drop down to where your top hugs your tits, and he gulps. But before he could say anything (not that he was going to), you've already left.

And it happens again and again, day after day. You apologize for not cuddling with him for the night, going out and working during dark hours. He once asked you where you work and if he could help, to which you responded "Delivery." You lied, then elaborated, "Some people really love eating at night. And no; you stay here and sleep for school. Aren't you gonna tutor me for the days I've missed?"

This quietens him, and he presses his lips together while he nods.

You leave again, and he soon finds himself fisting his cock. The sheets grow damp from where he bites down on them. Mewls and moans leave his throat, quietened down by the pillow he presses to his face as he fucks his fist, mind fixated on the way your boobs looked so perfect when you left today. He wants to bite them, to fondle them, to squeeze them together and to watch your face while pinching your nipples. He wants to suck on them and feel the warm milk flood his taste buds.

For fucks sake, he can't take his mind off of them. And he decides: he wants this, he needs this.

The next day, he recognizes the apologetic smile you give him and he immediately wraps an arm around your waist. Robin pulls you flush against him and closes the door with his other hand while you widen your eyes in shock.

"Robin, I need to–"

"Not today." He says, and the tone he uses is surprisingly assertive; makes you swallow back your words and allow him to drag you back and away from the door. "I miss you." He pouts, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling you until you stand between his legs, "so, so much."

You feel his hand at the back of your neck pulling you down until you meet his lips, and you're kissing him back at once, arms snaking around his neck. You pull away with a chuckle, looking down at him, and Robin smiles lovingly up at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling up sweetly. "Hi."

"Hey there." You chirp back, chuckling, "what's up with you today?"

"Can't your boyfriend have some of your time?"

You brush his hair back. "He absolutely can, but–"

"No buts." He's kissing you again, licking your lips and not wasting a second as soon as you part them, lapping lazily at your mouth. He pulls away with hazy eyes, and you feel your legs weaken with the way he practically begs with them. You wonder if he's aware of the effect his eyes have; almost hypnotic, and if he does, then he knows well how to use them. You caress his face, and he turns his head to kiss your finger. "Let me take care of you tonight. Please."

Breath hitching and words balling into a lump in your throat, you know he notices because his pout grows and his eyes plead. Robin doesn't give up, slotting his mouth to your throat and peppering it with kisses, lightly nibbling at your neck while his hands wander and knead around your waist gently until you say yes.

And when you finally mumble a "missing one night won't hurt," he's pouncing. Robin pushes you by the waist to the bed and is hovering over you immediately, lips descending upon yours with so many pent-up emotions.

"Missed you." He whispers in between kisses before starting to kiss along your jaw. You giggle and stroke his hair, pulling him away from your neck to plant your lips on his.

"Missed you too, love." You kiss him again and try to sit up. He doesn't stop you, but doesn't let go of your lips. Robin pulls back just to hook his hands at the hem of your shirt, starts to tug it off but stops midway to ask if this is okay, and when you nod, you don't know how he's got both your shirt and bra off in the blink of an eye.

Robin stares. Transfixed, dazed, and full of admiration at your breasts. His hands slowly make it to them, cupping them ever so gently, and you almost bark a laugh at how in love he looks. You've never seen him like this before.

You laugh at last, shaking them and making them bounce in his hands. "They're just boobs."

"They're your boobs." He raises his head and gives you a look that makes you feel as if you offended him by offending them. "And they're so..." He murmurs, and before you know it, he's kissing them gently, nibbling and sucking lightly at the skin, "Perfect...". You whimper as his fingers suddenly pinch your nipples while his other hand kneads and massages the other boob. He couldn't stop himself from biting into the plush fat, making you yelp in shock, to which he apologizes and kisses the bite mark. That doesn't stop him from biting again and marking your tits with small love bites.

All of this attention on your tits starts making you dizzy, especially with the needy look in Robin's eyes, the heavy flush that paints his ears and cheeks. His mouth inches closer to your nipple, and you're about to remind him that you're lactating and he wouldn't like it–

"I know you are." He shushes you by licking in circles around your nipple, tongue leisurely lapping at the small dribble that poured out when he pinched them earlier, and you only whimper at that. He's not hesitating this time. No, he's been fantasizing about this far too long to hesitate. There's a smile gracing his features before his mouth slots over one of your nipples; makes sure to meet your eyes before giving a light suck. You're immediately moaning, and he takes it as he's doing a good job, and sucks more.

Sweet, creamy milk fills his mouth, and he feels his brain turning into cotton. So foggy the only thing he could think of was how you taste and how perfect you are, how perfect the sensation of your nipple is in his mouth, and how perfect you look when you throw your head back and tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into your chest.

His tongue laps up what he can, intent on not wasting a single drop before he moves to the other breast. Locked in a trance, you glance down, and notice how his hips grind into the mattress, humping it slowly yet with visible need. There's a painful looking bulge straining against his shorts and you can't help but lick your lips.

You stretch out your leg until your foot touches his bulge, and he shudders. Robin's hand shoots down to stop your foot when you start rubbing him through his clothes, and he lets go of your nipple with a pop, licking his lips before shaking his head. "No. Let me take care of you. It's all about you tonight."

"But–"

"I said no buts for tonight." He smiles and gives your tits a light slap, not hard enough to hurt, but just to make them bounce. Leaning down, he licks the trickle left on your skin before starting to move down, kissing along your stomach, navel, and down until he's shimmying you out of your pants to kiss underneath it. He continues slipping them down and sits up to remove them completely before he's down on you again, thumb pressing into your slit through your panties. He swallows visibly, watching your already-soaked panties get more drenched as he dips his thumb further, forefinger pressing lightly onto your clit.

"Robin..." You whine, and he gets the hint, immediately hooking his fingers onto the waistband and getting rid of your panties so quickly. His eyes are glued to your glistening folds, gulping then licking his lips. He descends, and all you can feel is his hot breath fanning your pussy, making you mewl in need.

"I wanna taste you." Robin pants, "please let me taste you."

You don't think you can keep yourself under control anymore. Not with the way he's looking at you, begging to please you with glossy eyes and flushed skin, lips red and swollen. So you whimper and push yourself against his mouth, already grinding. Robin clutches your hips, fingers rubbing circles into the flesh while his tongue starts lapping at you at once.

He hums, and the vibration makes your eyes roll. Mouth slotting over your clit and sucking, and when he's not, he's slipping his tongue into your hot cunt and swirling it, moaning, drunk off of your own pleasure. It's messy; he eats you out like a man starved, savoring your taste and trying to imprint it on his taste buds. "So good... You taste so good.." He moans into your cunt and you arch your back, on the brink of cumming.

He notices and licks all the way up, from your slit to your clit, where he sucks harshly for a moment, then all the way down, where he greedily fucks you with his tongue. "Cum on my tongue. Please–" his finger joins, rubbing cruel circles on your clit, begging you to unravel in his mouth.

And you do with a squeal. Back arching off the old mattress and hands pushing Robin's face into your pussy, your hips never stopping grinding against his mouth while he laps it all up as if he were parched. You tug on his hair, and this sends him over the edge; eyes rolling back and moaning into your folds, cumming untouched in his pants and staining his boxers.

You lie there, panting and heaving, and Robin finally sits up with the proudest smile on his face. His lips and chin are glistening with your slick, hair a mess from the way you've tugged on it, and his skin holding a pink flush; he looks like a sinful angel.

"Fuck. C'mere," you reach out and he obliges at once, leaning down into your touch and letting you kiss him gently. "Thank you." You whisper against his lips, and he giggles, melting into you.

"Did I convince you to stay?" He says, burying himself into your breasts that he loves so much. You chuckle and nod, kissing the top of his head, and that's all he needs to relax and pull the covers over both of you.

He finally got you to cuddle him to sleep again.

[leafcries]

Hiiiiiii

Pairings: Robin (M) and pc (F)

tags, content and trigger warnings! Somnophilia, (some?) gaslighting, noncon so rape, OOC Robin because I said so (especially towards the ending. Or at least, I think. Because what if they're secretly like this, huh?)

Also, I'm fairly new to this. The writing thing, I mean, so I don't know how to tag properly. If there's a tag I probably missed, please inform me! <3

Robin has always loved it when you come back to him after a long day.

He loves your tired lazy smile and limp, soft body as he greets you at the door of his room. You throw yourself at him, to which he giggles and immediately scoops you closer into his arms. He loves it every time; whether he spends the time speaking and beaming at you or with you sprawled on him in some type of way and sleeping while he games on his console.

He's your safespace. He loves it.

But sometimes, like right now, it's so hard to concentrate, so hard to behave. Especially when you're sleeping on top of him with your legs sprawled over each side of his body, crotch directly over his own, and your head resting on his chest.

Robin tries to focus on his game, prepping small kisses to the crown of your head now and then. He almost engages in it again. But then you stir, thigh brushing against the growing hardness in his pants, and he mewls quietly. He presses his lips together, his grip automatically tightening around his console and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before slowly opening them again. There's a little chant in the back of his head going 'forget it forget it forget it forget—'

He sets his gaming console aside and wraps his arms around you, taking deep and slow breaths whilst ignoring the painful bulge straining against the fabric. "Baby?" His voice is so quiet when he calls out to you, shaking as if hesitant whether to wake you or not.

You're tired. He shouldn't!

Oh but look at you. So safe, so at peace, so pretty in his arms.

"..b...baby..?" He tries again, and you move again. A whimper leaves his throat, and his hands shoot to keep your hips from moving. A quick glance at your face confirms you're still sleeping.

Hands at your hips now, his fingers start playing with the hem of your miniskirt. He shouldn't, he shouldn't he shouldn't–

Oh.

Oh.

You didn't have any panties on.

His breathing picks up a bit, and he gulps, hips slowly pushing up and pressing his clothed cock onto your pussy. Robin's breath wavers as he slowly exhales, and he repeats his movement, slowly rocking up into you. His arms wrap tighter around you, and he tilts his head back until it's pressing against the headboard.

"Just the tip baby, okay? Okay..." He whispers as he hastens to fish out his cock, thumb rubbing the head and dipping slightly into the slit, smearing pre all over. "Please, I'm so sorry.. the tip should be fine.. I promise, just the tip.."

It slips in so easily. Your lips hug his pretty red tip, almost taunting as it sucks him in. Robin looks at your face; still so snuggled and warm and peaceful on him; still knocked out cold.

He rocks his hips again, trying to not let his cock slip past your folds and into your velvety hot walls. "You feel so good... I don't know if I'll be able to hold back.."

So he starts sinking deeper, biting his lips to stop his moans as he feels your walls squeeze his length, so tight yet so slippery and perfect for him. A breathy chuckle emits his lips, "w..why are you so wet?"

It's only when he's halfway in that his breath hitches in his throat. Big, wide eyes staring back at his, your lips falling open slightly and closing, babbling nothing in disbelief. He can see the confusion flash in your eyes, mingling with disbelief and ending with what he fears the most. He can see it. He can feel it: betrayal.

"m sorry, baby, I can't help it.." his eyes turn glossy, but his cock sinks deeper as he gives you an apologetic smile, "You feel so good around me, I can't stop.." and ends with a strong thrust that buries him to the hilt inside your cunt.

You jolt in surprise at the sudden force, and your hands immediately press against his chest and push, trying to at least sit up. "R-Robin!?" You barely get to say before his arms push you back down on his chest, squeezing you tight and refusing to let go.

"Let me-" he breathes heavily, "let me fin..ah god...let me finish. P..please...yeah?"

You try to shake your head, but his hand cradles the back of your head. He strokes your hair with a shaky hand and buries his fingers between the strands, holding your head firm on his chest. Robin keeps spewing out apologies, his lips right at your ear while he moans and whimpers and apologizes over and over and over, hips snapping unrelentingly up to meet yours.

"Robin– I don't–! mmnh– I don't want this! What happened to you!?" You cry out, fat tears gushing out and wetting his shirt while you squirm and push, "Get a hold of yours-"

He muffles your protests with his lips. He can't take it; he can't handle you yelling at him. He can't and he doesn't want to feel like he betrayed you, even though he did.

He pushes his tongue past your lips, silencing you while he thrusts faster, almost there. He only pulls away to look at your red puffy eyes, "I'm your boyfriend, love. Aren't I? I...I should be allowed to do this."

You don't need his lips to silence you at this point because his words choke you. He doesn't stop there, only continuing to shatter your heart with each word he says next. "I should be allowed to do this to you. Or would you tolerate it from someone else?" His tone shifts, and suddenly you're crying out from the force he uses to push his cock deeper, "you wouldn't be this mad if Sydney were to do this to you? What about Whitney, hm? I saw you."

You sob, and he continues. "Is it because I'm the one using you? Is it- ah, fuck! I'm gonna-"

"You're," he pants, "you were about to cum too, right? I could feel it." He doesn't wait for you to answer, hand already slipping down between your bodies to toy with your clit. He rubs it in quick circles, applying just the right pressure that makes you writhe in no time, gasping out between your cries and clenching down on him.

His hips stutter and his cock twitches inside of you. Seconds later and you feel his cum spill deep into your womb. Robin pushes your hair away from your face gently while still spurting ropes of his seed inside you; he loves to look at your face when he does that. His hand cradles your cheek ever so lovingly, thumb gently wiping at your tears and leans forward a bit to kiss them away.

"There ya go." Robin smiles. His lips press onto your forehead, and his hand strokes your hair more gently now. "Go back to sleep baby, okay? Okay..."

He continues to stroke your hair while you quietly sob, humming a lullaby to 'help' you sleep with a satisfied smile on his face.

Robin doesn't acknowledge what happened again, like it never occurred in the first place.

[leafcries]

:)

Synopsis: everyone on campus knew Bailey and Eden always did everything together, but who knew it meant if one of them took interest in their sweetheart of a friend, the other had to be there?

Pairing: M! Bailey x F! reader x M! Eden

Content. MDNI: college! AU, younger Bailey and Eden, yes they're still friends here because I can, bestfriends even, drug use (not mentioned explicitly, but you're drugged from the very start), dub-con, noncon, threesome, Bailey instructs Eden, double penetration (in v), unprotected, oral (m + f receiving), spitting, manhandling?, booyys kissiiiinngg 🤭, belly bulge, uhhh I hope that's all.

(If I missed anything please inform me and I'll add it <3)

A/N: if you know me irl, no you don't

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"C'mere. Get a closer look at her." Silken smooth voice rumbles from behind you, the vibration bouncing off his chest and against your back. Your hazy eyes barely grasp what's going on, and you can only figure out who he is from the strong cologne that radiates off his skin– Bailey.

There's movement, and then a silhouette of a larger body starts clouding your vision. Eden stands with his shirt discarded, flushed skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat as his chest rises up and down, buff muscles outlined by the dim lighting of the room. His eyes drink you in with such avidity you'd think he'd eat you alive.

Your breath is heavy and it feels so damn hot; something must be wrong. Your thoughts stammer to retrieve memories of sweaty bodies, overly loud music, and the swaying of your hips. Fleeting glimpses of familiar gazes and the sensation of a strong arm wrapping around your waist, the same silky voice that belongs to Bailey telling you he ordered drinks while his best friend, Eden, sits in silence that could speak volumes. You've known them for quite a while now, so you didn't think much of it as he pulled you from the dance floor, even giggled and swayed on the way.

You're snapped back to reality when you feel your legs being torn apart further, and when you look down you're greeted by the sight of your bare pussy being spread. "So wet for us already. Dirty little slut. Been fantasizing about being our sweet fucktoy?" Bailey whispers right into your ear, "Look– you're leaking all over my boxers."

You can only whine and squirm, but his grip on the back of your knees keeps you spread and vulnerable as Eden shuffles closer. "Clean her up, Eden."

You can barely gasp in time because Eden complies without a word. His throat bobs as he gulps, and he kneels until he's level with your hot core. "Thank you." Hot breath fans your folds as he uses two of his fingers to part them, a sharp hiss escaping his throat before he dives nose-deep into your pussy.

A moan is ripping out of your throat at his impatient tongue, swirling and licking while his lips kiss and suck. There's no rhythm, he just laves sloppily at your cunt, sometimes fast and others slow; can't build a steady rhythm to get you off. Something that Bailey takes notice of at once.

"Stop." He speaks, yet Eden keeps licking into your slit which prompts Bailey to jerk you up and away from Eden's greedy mouth by his hold on the back of your knees, as if you were a rag doll to maneuver however he pleases. Eden shoots him a glare, but Bailey glares back harder. "You're not doing it right."

"Keep her open." Bailey commands and Eden complies by wrapping a calloused hand on the back of your thigh, spreading you further– if it is even possible. Now that Bailey's hand is free, he snakes it down slowly, purposely letting you feel his large hand slithering across your tummy before finally tipping it down.

He uses two of his fingers to pull the hood of your pussy back, exposing your pretty clit. With his middle finger, he gives it a few gentle taps that make you almost scream with how sensitive your body is feeling, legs jerking and twitching. Were it not for the two men's firm hold on you, you would've fallen long ago.

Your head feels as if it were filled with glue, and there's a foreign tingle coursing through your veins; a tingle that feels too much to bear. Body feeling as if it were on fire, clit throbbing and core aching, your thighs sticky and your cunt clenching around nothing; it's ridiculous how you think you might fucking die if you don't get fucked right now. You miss whatever Bailey says to Eden next, something along the lines of 'that's the clit' and 'don't go too fast at once'. It takes tremendous effort for you to form barely coherent words. "...I don't feel very good..."

"I know, baby, I know. Eden is going to make you feel good right now."

"..wha... no, that's not what I– Ha!"

Eden's mouth latches on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and letting the tip of his tongue swirl around it. You cry out, your body far too sensitive as it instinctively tries to run away from his mouth, but he suddenly grips your hips and pulls them toward himself, forcing them to stay still as he devours your pussy.

"Slow, slow... go slower." You can feel Bailey's breath hitting your neck from behind as he helps keep you still for the man in between your legs. "Just like that. Yes, you're getting better at it."

Your gaze, clouded and misty, doesn't fail to notice how Eden practically shakes from where he's kneeling. You don't know if it's simply because he enjoys eating you out, or if it's Bailey's instructions and praise as he orders him to do exactly what's just right.

Eden listens and performs well, apparently, because you're soon a writhing moaning mess beneath him, tears gathered and spilling down your cheeks. Bailey tells him to go a bit faster, and he does; tells him to circle his tongue around your twitching hole and to bully it past the first tight ring of muscle, to taste you better, and he groans into your drenched folds as he does. You barely register Bailey telling Eden that it's okay to use his fingers before you feel a thick, long finger invade your walls.

Eden hooks his finger and massages your velvety walls while you moan like a whore– or so Bailey has referred to you. His mouth never stops making out with your cunt until you're gushing around his fingers and against his lips with a squeal. He doesn't waste a drop, lapping it all up and audibly sighing as if it finally quenched his thirst.

Bailey's laughter rings in your ears before he's gripping your face, squishing your cheeks as he forces you to look at Eden. "Look at him– no, no. No looking away. Look at him." He speaks while Eden slowly gets up and towers over, looking pussy-drunk with the way he stares you down. "Thank him."

You gulp, blinking the tears out of your eyes and panting as you gaze up at him, tongue heavy in your mouth as you babble. "Th-thank you.."

Eden leans in and, as if not able to hold himself back any longer, captures your lips with his own. It's sloppy and messy and wet, and you fucking love it, kissing him back as much as your body allows you. There's a shuffle of fabric, and then Bailey's hot cock is grinding against you, slipping against your folds, quiet groans emitting from his throat. He had let go of the back of your knees by now, no need to keep you spread as you're doing it yourself atop his thighs. Large hands stroke your sides until he reaches your breasts, where he immediately starts toying and pinching your nipples.

Eden is quiet, hasn't really spoken except for small words thrown here and there. It's all been Bailey so far, with his condescending and praising words along with instructions directed towards Eden. So it's a surprise when Eden pulls away from your mouth and, with a gruff deep voice, speaks. "Open."

Too dumb to think it over, you comply, parting your lips and letting him spit directly into your mouth. Even Bailey is surprised for a second - you can sense it because he stops moving momentarily before a chuckle rumbles off his chest. "Swallow..." Eden says, and as you obey, he slips his thumb between your lips, and it's like an instinct to start sucking around his finger.

His breathing picks up as he presses his thumb on your tongue, your whines going straight to his twitching cock. "Fuck– you're gorgeous. Open up again."

This time, it's his cock that taps your awaiting tongue, and he shoves it inside your mouth with no heed to your comfort. You choke around it, and he groans, tipping his head back as he slides it out before ramming it back into your throat. You're too focused on admiring how Eden looks as you try your best to open your throat, to notice Bailey sliding his cock past your folds.

You choke again around Eden when Bailey starts feeding girth by girth into your drooling cunt, making you pull your mouth away -with effort- and barely have the time to cry out a "w-wait–" before Eden is roughly gliding his fingers through your locks and jamming his dick into your mouth again. He keeps a firm hold on your head this time, efficiently using your mouth like a fleshlight, hips snapping and balls slapping against your chin.

The motherfucker called Bailey laughs. "Fucktoys don't speak." Quietly groans when he bottoms out, pretty mushroom head kissing your cervix deliciously. You felt as if teetering of the edge of losing your damn sanity– the stretch burning as your walls struggle to expand and hug him. Feeling too full, every part of you stuffed and used to their likings. "Return the favor to Eden while I fuck this pretty pussy, yeah? Be a good girl for us, hm?"

Then he's moving. Bailey's hands return to hold your legs open because you keep squirming and flailing on his cock. You moan, and Eden's jaw falls from the vibrations you send around him, eyes leering back and fluttering close as white-hot pleasure floods his veins.

"Filthy. Fucking. Girl." Bailey punctuates each word with a harsh thrust, the squelching loud and obscene as he fucks himself a little deeper with every snap of his hips. "So fucking wet for us. Taking me so well."

Moans and whimpers muffled by Eden's incredibly large hard-on, body falling soft and putty as they move and maneuver you like their precious little rag doll, only there for their pleasure, and you don't mind. Your eyes roll back when Bailey angles his hips and hits that sweet sweet spot of yours, hot cunt clenching around him impossibly. "Fuck– right there?" He hisses and makes sure to abuse the spot over and over until you're squealing, legs shaking uncontrollably as you cum.

Eden's cock starts twitching as it hits the back of your throat, but he suddenly pulls away when you're expecting him to send ropes of his sweet essence down your throat. You're still convulsing from your orgasm when you look up at him with big bewildered teary eyes, drool running down the sides of your swollen lips, and Eden almost cums right then and there.

Eden groans and then fucking whimpers. "Bailey.." He even sounds as if in tremendous pain as he pumps his glistening cock. Bailey looks up and immediately realizes what that look means.

"Cum on her face or in her mouth. I'm using her pussy."

"Bailey."

"I'm so fucking close don't you fucking dare–"

"Bailey. I'd force you out and fuck her myself."

They're fucking bickering, and they couldn't find a better timing than when you're crying and dripping and squirming with overstimulation.

"No– you know what? Fuck. Get in there."

Your eyes grow impossibly wide when Eden positions himself right where Bailey is still ramming your cunt full. "What– fuck, no no! I can't- wait!" You squirm and push at the man behind you, overusing every 'please' and 'you can't! I can't!' You can think of because, frankly, you really think you might die. It's no surprise when they ignore your cries and protests, both of them shushing you. Bailey slows down and you know what's coming.

"Please– it won't fit it'll never–!"

"Yes, you can. Biiiiig stretch, baby."

Air is knocked out of your chest as Eden forces your cunt to stretch further, opening up to take him in. All of you simultaneously moan, your head falling back down on Bailey's shoulder, fists balling and ever so weakly bumping at Eden's broad chest, cries on your tongue. They rub against each other as Eden sinks further in agonizingly slow until everything comes to a stop, all heavy breaths and pants.

"T-tight." Eden is the first to speak after a moment of silence, then he moves. Rubs the bumpy, scorching hot walls of yours and Bailey's veiny cock. Strong arms settle on either side of you, caging both you and Bailey in. When he slips half the way out, Bailey starts moving.

They take turns, and your cervix doesn't spend a second not getting kissed. Eden pulls a bit out only for Bailey to push in, and vice versa. You're too fucked-out to notice Eden leaning down, them getting closer to each other until you hear soft smacks of lips against lips. You force your eyes to dizzily glance at your side, and involuntarily moan at the sight that greets you.

Bailey's eyes are half-lidded as Eden licks into his mouth, tongues clashing and dancing as they kiss messily and moan into each other's mouth. It's so fucking filthy, all spit and drool and Eden's fucking lips and chin are still glistening with your slick, to which Bailey tastes from his lips, letting out hypnotic out-of-breath groans.

Your tummy bulges with each thrust of theirs, can see the outline of their cocks moving in and out of you through your skin. All your broken mind can think of is how full and stuffed you are, how it's impossible for them to not nudge every perfect spot that makes you scream and see stars. You're almost jealous of the way they still kiss right beside your head, and so you whine for them, needy and desperate for their lips.

Bailey is the one to chuckle breathlessly and pull away. "Greedy girl," he can only whisper before he grabs your hair and turns your head, forcing his lips onto yours. It's humiliating how you can't keep up with him even though you were the one who begged for his hot mouth, your tongue feeling far too heavy to keep up with his. But he doesn't seem to mind; instead, he feels his cock twitch at the dumb, fucked-out expression on your face as you desperately try to kiss him back. Can only think of how breathtaking you look before he bursts, thick ropes of cum painting the inside of your cunt.

His orgasm triggers Eden's who's already so close, both groaning and plunging as deep as possible into you. You hiss, moans falling helplessly from your lips as you feel their warm seed fill your womb to the brim. They keep at it for a while, making sure every surface of your abused pussy is overflowing with semen before they finally pull out.

Their mixed seed follows their softening cocks when they pull out, dripping and flowing from your stretched ruined hole. It's a sight to behold. Your inner thighs are soon drizzled in white, dripping onto Bailey's lap. "We should," Bailey pants, takes a moment to catch a bit of his breath before continuing, "We should do this more often."

When you don't respond, both of them raise their fixed gaze on your pussy and to your face, only to bark out a laugh. You're out cold, limp against Bailey.

Bailey looks away from you and towards Eden, raising a taunting eyebrow as he speaks. "Satisfied?"

"Next time," Eden straightens up, pushing his hair out of his face, "next time, I'm the one fucking her first."

"Whatever you say."

"What did you put in her drink, anyway?"

"That's none of your concern."

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A/N: this is my first time writing a threesome so 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ incredibly fun tho.

[leafcries]

TW!! Noncon. Some degradation? Idk this is the first time I'm writing smth

Thinking about Bailey, who panics the first time he fucks you on his desk, in his office, and kicks you out as soon as he cums.

Thinking of Bailey, who angrily shoves your legs open, bullying his cock into you when you refuse to pay him and start fighting. Who shoves his fingers into your mouth to silence you and tells you to take it like the slut you are. It's either his cock or some stranger's that he was going to sell you off to, he says. What's he supposed to do? Gotta discipline you from fighting back.

Thinking of Bailey who sits alone in his office, disbelief and disgust on his own face as he jerks off to a photo of you that's been going around on the internet. Bailey who doesn't want to admit that he's slowly giving in to his sinful urges.

Thinking of Bailey who greets you at the door of the orphanage as you come back way past midnight, his fingers curling on your shoulder and demanding you to pay. Bailey, who shoves the money down his pocket before dragging you to your room, pushing you face down on the mattress and forcing your head into the pillow.

Bailey, who shushes your confused and panicked whimpers as he drills into you from behind. Poor thing, you made sure to pay him this week and not fight him like the last time, but ended up getting the same treatment, if not worse.

"This cunt was mine from the very start, anyway," he snarls right into your ear, his hips unrelenting as they smack against your ass, "it's only natural I use what's mine."

He sinks his fingers into your hair to push your head further into the sheets, telling you to be fucking quiet or he's gonna split you open even more. His hand moving beneath you to bully your little clit; not for your pleasure, but his. He loves the way your tight little cunt clenches around him when he does so.

Bailey, who's balls deep inside you when he cums, sending ropes upon ropes of sticky white. He even thrusts a little, slowly as he fucks his semen inside you. He even groans quietly, his breath wavering a bit as he speaks. "You better be on the fucking pill, bitch."

Bailey, who pulls out and watches his seed spill from your hole and drip down your thighs, your legs trembling and sliding down until they're flat against the mattress as he lets go of your hips. He huffs when his cum mixed with your juices soak the sheets, and tells you to clean it up later.

Bailey, who smacks your ass and leans down next to your crying face. "This, is a part of your debt. Fight it and face the consequences."

He leaves the room afterward, leaving you crying and whimpering and hicupping as you burry your face into the pillow to silence your cries.

Bailey, who, true to his words, repeats this every week, saying it's a part of your payment.