#being an artist is masochism

[ace-lost-in-motherfucking-art]

i am halfway through lining this whole thing, break to appreciate the resident pretty person.

[demiesworld]

don't underestimate them.

synopsis: reader goes on a mission with hantengu. before the mission she encounters his emotional counterparts and they seem to have an interest in her.

characters: fem!demon!reader x sekido, karaku, aizetsu, & urogi

contents: inexperienced!reader, choking, dub-con, overstimulation, hair pulling, anal, nipple play, biting, creampie, 5-some, handjobs, masochism, cunninlingus, rough sex, clawing, dirty talk, just pure filth

note: reader is upper moon 5 (let's just say gyokko got murked and she's his replacement) this takes place after entertainment district arc and before swordsmith village arc. this is my first time writing smut in like a long time. hope i didn't disappoint. reader uses she/her pronouns. NOT BETA READ!

credits to the original artist of the photo.

The strings of a biwa instrument plays when you are summoned into the Infinity Castle. Your body is covered in blood that is not yours and a murderous glare is painted on your face. You had just came back from a battle with the flamboyant sound hashira, Uzui Tengen, and his younger comrades three young demon slayer boys. While you, Gyutaro, and Daki put up a strong fight, it seemed to not be enough and the humans were victorious. It sickened you to be defeated by humans. It was pathetic of you to run away with your tail between your legs after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki get killed by the humans. What frustrated you again was you were summoned to Lord Muzan at the Infinity Castle to give your report on the battle. You had to explain what happened and why two upper moons, who were under your wing, ended up getting killed.

You stand on a floating block looking up at Nakime upon a block adjacent to yours. You could sense no other comrade in your sight. Great. This was going to be fun.

"Biwa Woman!" you shout over to her, "You summoned me here, now what is it that you want of me?"

She lowers her head but says nothing to you. Instead the lights get cut out and you hear the sound of the biwa instrument being plucked. You feel the room shift but you're still surrounded by darkness. 'She must have sent me to another room' you thought as your eyes shift around you. 'What sort of trick is she playing here with me?'

You take one step forward and the lights are turned back on. You are in a room. You're in Lord Muzan's sanctuary. Your body gets chills when you realize what situation you are in now. What will Lord Muzan do to you? Will he scold you for not protecting the upper moon 6? Will he kill you for running away like a coward instead of fighting till the end? Is he going to get rid of you as upper moon 5?

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off when you sense the feeling of multiple knives being stabbed into your body at once from the inside. You gasp for air, your clawed hands grasping at your throat and eyes forced to stare up at the ceiling above you. You fall to your knees desperately trying to breathe as your body violently shakes and trickles of blood seeps from the corners of your eyes, lips, and ears.

"Y/N..." you hear Lord Muzan's voice echo in the room you are suffering in. But you don't see him. It sounds like he's right in front of you yet physically he is not there. "I see that you made it out alive, but not Gyutaro and Daki. Why is that?"

You try to answer him, you want to answer him, to plead your case but that excruciating stabbing doesn't cease. Instead the invisible hold around your neck gets stronger and you let out a feeble squeak. You reach out a hand in an attempt to plead for mercy, but it gets sliced off. As a result, blood spurts out from your sliced off wrist, streams of red pooling on the floor into a puddle.

There was no mercy when it came to Lord Muzan. He showed none of the upper moons mercy if they didn't accomplish a single task that they were given. Yours was to eliminate the boy with the hanafuda earrings. A simple task that Lord Muzan thought you were capable of doing. Unfortunately, it seemed like you weren't competent enough. And you failed.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out another squeak before thrashing your legs forward. The grip on your neck loosens by just a hair giving you a chance to breathe. "L-Lord Muzan! Please, I-I can't-!" You cry out, your eyes still shut.

"If you hadn't been so careless and selfish during the battle, upper moons six would have been alive and those damned humans would be dead. Instead you wanted to save your own skin, and sacrifice your comrades to their untimely deaths. You knowingly escaped the fight after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki being killed; you could have defeated the humans upper moon five. You know that you could have, yet you did not. Let me ask you this question, do you think that they would have ran if they saw you getting beheaded Y/N?"

You whimper and shake your head before opening your eyes just to see Muzan standing there holding your neck in his hand. His glowing red eyes apathetically looking into yours. "L-Lord Muzan!"

"Answer my question."

"No my Lord! T-They wouldn't have ran, Gyutaro and Daki would have avenged me! I-I'm sorry I failed you-"

Muzan releases your neck and drops you on the ground, the stabbing feeling in your body comes to a sudden halt as you hunch over and cry in sorrow. He stares down at you with a blank gaze. "I don't care for your useless apology, it's not me you should be apologizing to." He takes a step over your body distancing himself from you, "It should be upper moons 6, whom you should say it to. Alas they are dead..." Muzan looks over his shoulder at you. "Is that not correct?"

You nod your head and sniffle, "Yes, Lord Muzan, they are dead because of me. I...I led them to their demise, to their graves, s-should I..." You lift your head to look at the back of your leader, a confused expression upon your face, "What should I do?" You didn't know what to do at this point.

He straightens his shoulders, "You will eventually figure it out on your own. Now... for your next task. If you are competent enough to execute it."

Your body heals itself from the internal injuries and regenerates your amputated hand as you stand to your full height. Muzan gives you your next mission and your eyes widen as you listen to what the location name is. You swallow before lowering on one knee and bowing your head to Muzan.

"I swear to you Lord Muzan," you began, "I won't fail you."

"Very well because if you do fail prepare to visit an unprecedented grave."

Those are the last words Muzan said to you before you are sent off to your next mission. This time you were paired with upper moon 4, Hantengu. The location he had given you was the swordsmith village.

Months ago you had found out about the location of the swordsmith village thanks to a kakushi that you killed during your time in the entertainment district. The swordsmith village was hidden up in the mountains; where the swordsmith forged swords and weapons for the Demon Slayer Corps. You gave the location to Muzan, hoping that one day you could infiltrate and kill the swordsmiths. However, as the time went by you never heard mention of the swordsmith village until now.

You arrive with Hantengu outside of the swordsmith village before the hours of sunrise within the forest. You are thankful that your demon body closely resembles a human female rather than something like Hantengu. You'd be able to blend if you were to encounter villagers meanwhile Hantengu would be outed by his deformed head. However, Hantengu was fearful of others and with his speed could easily dodge being seen by hiding in dark corners or in high trees.

"Come Hantengu, let's go, we cannot disappoint Lord Muzan." You addressed and you whisper under your breath, "Not again."

The scared demon followed you like a sheep making small whimpering noises and wringing his hands together. As you two traveled on foot, you noticed that the sun was starting to rise earlier than expected. Shit. You needed to find shelter and fast. With a growl and a huff you take Hantengu by the nape of his kimono and using your incredible speed you rushed to an empty shack you luckily found within minutes of the swordsmith village.

This was so infuriating to you. You were given a mission with who you believed was the weakest of the upper moons, despite him being a rank above you, in addition to you not knowing what his powers and abilities were. You had never seen Hantengu perform in battle as you were accustomed to watching him hide and lament during meetings at the Infinity Castle. You thought of him as weak, undeserving of the title as upper rank four, and a mere hindrance. To you a Lower Moon would have been useful hadn't Lord Muzan not killed them.

You enter inside with Hantengu and you let out a frustrated scream. Intentionally you threw the frail-bodied demon against the wall of the hut and your claws elongated, you began to voice your thoughts to Hantengu, "This is ridiculous! Why did Lord Muzan have to place me on a mission with you?! This is something I could handle myself! I can do it on my own! I can prove to Lord Muzan that I am worthy of being one of the twelve kizuki!" You bellow your thoughts to the shaking demon before you. Your clawed hands sharpening as you inch closer to Hantengu.

The demon cowered against the wall, holding up his quivering brittle hands to his head. Hantengu let out small, shaky snivels and he blubbered, "Eek! So loud! So scary and loud! Please!"

"Shut up with your pathetic whining! I can't even hear myself think!" You spat out, covering your ears with your hands. "You're so useless! You're unworthy of being upper rank four! What's the point of having you around if you're not going to be of use?!"

"Stop yelling at me please! I can't help it that I'm like this!" He continued to bicker with you, his croaky voice annoying you further into a blind rage.

You let out a shrill scream and swiped your clawed fingers at Hantengu. "I said shut up!"

Your clawed fingers slice off upper moon 4's head and it topples onto the ground. Inside of the shack the sound of silence permeates. Time goes still. You stand before the decapitated body and look at the head rolling on the ground, still lamenting only for it to stop at your feet. In disgust you coil back and kick it away from you.

"Disgusting." You utter.

Just then that severed head generates a body and the headless body grows a head. You briefly take a step back in shock as you witness glowing red eyes glaring angrily at you. "Han-Hantengu?" You call out your comrades name nervously. What did you do?

A low chuckle from behind you catches your attention and you look over your shoulder to see a tanned shirtless demon with long wavy black hair and horns on his head. His green eyes gazing back at you with mischief in them. "Aha! Isn't this great, Sekido? We got separated!" He takes a step forward towards you and holds your chin in his hand. "And by one of our own it seems..."

Your body was frozen to the ground, unable to move as the green-eyed demon was eyeing you up and down like you were his next meal. He looked like he wanted to devour you, but you weren't positive if that meant as sustenance or... that. A gasp escaped from your lips when he stuck out his long tongue and the kanji for "pleasure" was tattooed on it in black ink.

The sound of a staff being hit against wood startled you, pulling your gaze away from the wild eyed demon over to its copy. The demon whose name was Sekido rises to his feet his towering height making you seem small. With just one stride he easily sandwiches you between him and his look-alike; he huffs as he glares down at you. "Stupid wench." He growls, then he turns his attention to the green-eyed demon. "All I'm feeling is irritancy being around something like her."

"You say that, Sekido, but I'm getting a little excited around this one. She looks and smells divine."

Before you could berate him, the hand on your chin grips it tighter to keep you still, and he licks your cheek with his wet tongue. A shudder runs down your spine and you instinctively shove Karaku away from you. He cackles at your reaction.

"What happened to Hantengu? You disgusting bastard!" You took a defensive stance momentarily forgetting that Sekido was behind you.

Using your distraction as an opportunity, Sekido holds his staff against your neck and your backside presses against his front. Your hands grip at the staff desperately struggling to pull it away. You could feel his rigid torso underneath his kimono. You start to thrash in his hold, but he was too strong compared to you. The red-eyed demon growls into your ear, "Stop moving and maybe we will be lenient with you. Even though you don't deserve such a thing." His sharp fanged teeth gnaw on your ear causing you to arch away from it.

Karaku smirks at your resistance to the both of them and he calmly walks up to you placing his clawed hand on your breast. Your face heats up and you seethe, "Get your hands off of me," Karaku ignores your demand instead he squeezes the mound in his palm like a ball. An hearty, mirthful laugh coming from him when he sees you trying to move away from his touch.

"You say that you want our hands off, but I can smell the arousal coming from you, little minx." He cut through the center of the fabric of your dress using a clawed finger and tore it off leaving the cloth on the wooden floor in shreds. Your body was bare to them now, minus the undergarment that hid your mound. True to Karaku's word, a damp spot could be seen and it confirmed the demon's assumption.

"S-Stop looking at me! Get a-away from me you filthy, disgusting, vile," Your words get cut off by his warm mouth sucking on your left nipple.

Sekido grunts, "Calling us disgusting and vile yet you're the one who is craving it. That makes me mad knowing you want this, but you're refusing to yield." He bites down hard on your earlobe, to the point where blood leaks into his mouth.

That did it for you. Using all of your strength you yank the staff Sekido's holding and twist your body around to sever off his head utilizing the staff. You spin around on your foot and slash Karaku's body in half with the weapon successfully.

You threw the staff on the ground and sneered, "Filthy pigs!"

As you were beginning to think that maybe you had defeated the two of them, you were in for another surprise. Karaku's body that you cut in half turned into a young man with blue eyes, clothed in a blue jumpsuit and a dejected face. The upper half returned to being Karaku who was laughing upon seeing your frightened face.

The green-eyed demon sat on the floor with his legs crossed, and he said, "Aha~ You haven't figured it out by now? Allow me to tell you little minx, you see once you cut off our heads we just grow another body."

A gleeful voice spoke up, "So delightful to be divided! Looks like we didn't have to wait any longer for it."

You took a good look at the two new figures before you. The one on your left with the blue eyes looked at you with pity. Meanwhile the one on your right had a gleeful expression and he was drastically different. He didn't have the physiology of a human like his clones, rather he was part avian. He had wings, talons, and raptor-like feet.

'What the hell is going on right now?' you screamed in your head. 'I can't run out of here or else I'd die from the sun, and I can't fight four of them all at once! I'm helpless here!'

The blue-eyed open spoke softly, "You appear to be at a loss, mistress, why don't you let us help you?" He took a step forward and you took one step back. At this he stopped and he looked perplexed.

"No! All of you stay the hell away from me! I don't care how many times I gotta cut your fucking heads off!" You cried out.

Sekido grunted when his head regenerated itself and he took a long mean glare at you from behind. "This is pissing me off." He turned his head to the blue-eyed demon, "Aizetsu!" They both looked at each other and Aizetsu nodded as he knew what Sekido wanted him to do.

He approached you cautiously and places both of his hands on your shoulders. He lowers your body on the floor to kneel with him and slides his cold hands on the sides of your naked waist. The touch is gentle and lingers on your skin.

"This would be easy if you just submit to us... having to fight with you will upset me because then I'd have to hurt you." Aizetsu leans in closer to your face, his pointed nose touching yours and he whispers, "It'll pain me to cause such a captivating thing like you hurt."

The demon with gold eyes slid behind you and his claws held your wrists behind your back. Due to the hypnotizing look Aizetsu had on you, you didn't fight the hold instead you kneeled there waiting for their next move. The avian demon breathed in your scent deeply and let out a long sigh.

"You smell delicious, if you were a human I would have eaten you up by now." He says.

Aizetsu frowns, "Urogi, don't say that, you'll scare her."

Urogi laughs at this and licks his tongue against the side of your neck. "Why should I have to lie? It is true after all, if she was a human she'll be buried deep in my stomach." Like the crude bastard he was, he adds, "But I will be buried deep inside of hers soon."

The words sent a shiver down your spine and throb to your center. Suddenly you're bent forward, your face hovering over Aizetsu's groin, and Urogi's clawed hands spreading your ass cheeks apart exposing your blossoming folds to them all. The sweet pungent scent of your arousal emanates inside the small abode causing all four male demons to sigh and growl in hunger.

Aizetsu whispered, "Your words tells lies but your body says the truth, mistress," He places a hand on your head and gently guides your mouth over the rigid bulge beneath his clothes. A short, shocked gasp escapes you when you felt it. "We will take good care of you."

"Damn she smells like she's ready for us. What do you think Sekido?" Karaku stands to his feet and inches to your hunched over form, his fingers slowly untying the strings of his hakama.

Sekido grunted, "I don't care what we do with her, but we need to get this over with." He looks at the three of them, "Start however you want with her."

You interjected, "W-Wait a minute! I didn't even give my consent! I'm not an object you can't just-" Your words were cut off when a wet tongue greedily laps at your entrance. A muffled moan comes from you and your eyes squeeze shut. Your thighs clench and body pushes forward trying to get away from it.

The demon that was slurping your juices on his tongue, Urogi, pulls away from your folds and smirks, "You don't have to tell me twice." He lowers his head back to your pussy, taking a harsh suck on your clit and flicking it with his tongue.

Fuck. You were not trying to enjoy this, but the assault on your mound felt too good to try to run away from. You were helpless to these demons as they were physically stronger than you even as individuals. Your mouth kept spewing heavenly-sounding moans while Urogi feasted on your cunt.

"Mistress, won't you please help me?" Aizetsu lifted your head up by grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over, but you were still lucid.

"I... I don't..."

The blue-eyed demon pulls his pants down to his knees exposing his long, hard shaft to your eyes. It sat daintily against his abdomen; a pearl bead sitting the tip before he used his thumb to smear it. He lets out a soft sigh, a warmth spreading on his cheeks. "It's okay, I-I can show you." Aizetsu's other hand guides your mouth to the tip of his cock. "Picture it as being a dango treat. U-Use your mouth please."

His gentle words were a key to push you into doing it. You timidly nodded your head, letting out another feeble moan when Urogi spat on your clit and then dove his tongue into your haven. You parted your lips around the head of his cock and brought it into your mouth. At the feeling of a moist warmth on him, Aizetsu trembled but he didn't move away instead he leaned closer to you. His hand petting your head in encouragement. "Y-Yes... hmm... now stick out y-your tongue...ah..."

"Hey~ we didn't dumb you down, yet have we?" Karaku said and he pulls down his hakamas to his ankles. His cock was thicker than Aizetsu's and curved a little to the left in its rigid state. "You still have two more demons to pleasure remember?" He cockily stuck out his tongue, the tattooed kanji on view. "You have two hands that are free, so put them to work!"

He snatches a hold of your right hand and guides it to his lower abdomen your fingers tickling the patch of thick curly hair on his pelvis. He lowers it to the base of his shaft, using his large hand to envelop your smaller one around it. Karaku lets out a groan and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Fuck~ It's been so, so long since I've had a woman touch me like this. If your hand feels as snug as your pussy, then I guess we're in for a real treat huh?" His darkened gaze watches you blissfully.

"What happened to the brat that was giving us a hard time?" Sekido snarls as he stands on your left before lowering himself to his knees. He unties the strings of his robe, adjusting his clothing so that his angry and leaking cock stands. He jerks your vacant hand and wraps it around his cock.

Urogi stops drinking away at your essence to answer Sekido's rhetorical question. "Looks like she's lost her fighting spirit! With the way we're all using her body like a common whore she probably gave up." He licks at his lips, "Am I right or am I right you little slut?"

A talon hand slaps against your ass cheek causing you to yelp with Aizetsu's tip in your mouth. The blue-eyed creature shuddered from the vibration and looked down at you. "That feels so good, now try taking it in deeper... you can try right?" Aizetsu doesn't wait for a nod instead he slowly pushes himself in further. The tip of his dick prodding at the back of your throat and wet cavern stimulating his sensitive rod. "Hm! S-So good mistress... keep your tongue out and w-watch your t-teeth... ahh!"

Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes while your mouth was stuffed with Aizetsu's cock. Karaku began to thrust back and forth into your hand. Sekido was guiding your hand to stroke his dick at a pace that he found suitable. Urogi, the damned bastard, had returned to relentlessly eating you out. How was this all even possible? Four demons taking on one person and using their body to their own selfish greed?

Your body jerked forward when you felt Urogi's tongue circle the rim of your ass. You pulled your mouth away from Aizetsu's cock, gasping for air and weakly said, "N-No! Don't touch me there with your tongue!" You scooted yourself forward trying to get away from him.

He smirked at you, "I don't have to listen to you and we're not all going to fuck just your pretty little pussy. Some of us wants this sweet ass too."

You just sat there stupefied and Urogi took that one moment of distraction to bring you back to his face. Your hands grab for Aizetsu's top pulling him forward while your ass was being violated by his look-alike's tongue. You held the slim body of the sorrowful demon tightly, trembling in what you thought was fear but was pleasure. "A-Ah! N-Not t-there, please! Stop!" Despite your pleads he continued and your body betrayed you by dripping with essence onto the floor.

"Hey~ Her mouth is open. Say 'ah' little minx, or do I have to shove my cock in there?" Your dazed eyes look up to Karaku smirking and holding his cock in his hand. You simply whine, and he takes it as a 'yes' pushing his dick past your mouth and down your throat. "Yeah that's it. Fuck use your tongue, get it nice and sloppy. Make me feel real good will you?" He moans, eyes half-lidded while he watched you.

Urogi was about to finger your ass until he remembered he had claws; at least he was being considerate when he asked for the other two Sekido and Aizetsu to stretch you out.

"I'll do it." Sekido grunts, not giving Aizetsu a chance in being the first to finger you.

Urogi moved from behind you and Sekido took his place. "Delightful~ Make sure you make her ass lose enough for one of us to fit. Wouldn't want to break our new toy."

"Don't tell me what to do you idiot!" Sekido barked at Urogi.

The red-eyed demon spat on your asshole then inserted a finger. You squealed around Karaku's cock and this caused the "pleasure" demon to groan at the vibrations. He began to fuck your throat shallowly. Drool came out of the corners of your mouth and your hands grabbed onto the sides of Karaku's thighs. Sekido curled his finger inside of you, stroking your walls at the same time sliding it back and forth.

Aizetsu stroked his cock as he watched you getting face-fucked by Karaku. He squeezes the tip till precum leaks out and smears it over his cock. "It's making me sad having to wait like this so desperately. I want to be the first to have her, I can't hold it for any longer."

"Who died and made you the leader you coward? If anything I get to go first since it was my idea to have some fun." Karaku says.

"I object to that Karaku~ I ate her sweet little pussy so I get first hit on her!" Urogi exclaims.

Karaku retorts, "Eating her pussy doesn't give you the right to fuck her first."

"Shut the hell up you three!" Sekido finally snaps when he couldn't take their arguing over who gets to go first anymore. He stuck another finger inside of your tight hole stretching it. As his two digits were working their way deeper into you, you were shamelessly moaning around Karaku's cock. "Since you all want to fight over who gets to fuck her, let's have the bitch decide who gets to."

Sekido's hand grips you by your throat and pulls you off of his counterpart's length. A gasp comes from you when you feel the hand squeezing your neck and a warm breath ghosting next to your ear. A growl emits from the red-eyed demon before he asks, "Now... tell us... which one of us do you want to fuck you first?"

"Uh... um... I..." You were looking at them one by one. Your eyes landing on Karaku with his mischievous grin, then Aizetsu's hopeful gaze, and lastly Urogi's stare of pure unfiltered desire. You wanted for this to be gentle for you since it was your first time experiencing sexual relations as a demon. After doing some process of elimination in your head, and based on how each demon had treated you, your gaze landed on Aizetsu. "Y-You..."

Aizetsu's brows lifted at the decision you made, "Me?" When you nodded your head the demon sits himself in front of you and places his hands on your knees. "It's relieving to hear that you want me first, was it my desperation that made you choose me?"

'His desperation? No... I chose you because you look like you'll take it easy on me. Don't tell me I made the wrong choice.' You thought as you feel Sekido move from behind you so Aizetsu could lie you on your back. His slim muscled figure hovering over yours and eyes looking down into yours expectantly. Was he waiting for an answer?

The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance bringing you back to reality for a moment. "Hm! N-No it wasn't that..." you say and place your hands on his shoulders.

Aizetsu hums before sliding his tip up to your clit and sliding it up and down your nub. Your breath hitched at the touch, and your nails were digging into his skin. "You're lying to me, I can tell."

"I'm not lying to you! I'm not! I promise!" Before you can continue explaining the demon had slid his cock into your heat. The thickness of his girth spreading you open to shape around his length. You let out a loud moan and tossed your head back, trying to pull your hips away. Aizetsu saw this and grabbed your waist in a tight grip. "P-Please!"

"Ahh... y-you f-feel so good around me. So warm and wet, yet you think that I am the desperate one." He mutters, "Maybe by the time we're done," The blue-eyed demon slowly pulls himself out to the hilt then slams back inside of you. This action forcing another moan out of you. "Y-you'll be the one begging for m-more."

Your nails were clawing at his back, drawing blood that didn't seem to faze him at all. Despite you thinking this demon would be gentle with you it appeared to be false. He wasn't gentle as his hips slammed into yours sloppily and high-pitched whimpers came from him. Your legs snaked around his waist to keep him close and your folds were dripping your juices on his shaft. The sound of skin slapping and wet noises filling the shack the five of you were in.

Aizetsu looks down at where the two of you are connected and a ring of white is painted on his cock. His cheeks flush from the sight, and he slows down his thrusts to ogle at it. He places his thumb on your clit, flicking it like it was some sort of toy as he says, "You must be feeling really good right now mistress? A-Am I making you feel good? Do you like my c-cock?" He slams deep into you again. "H-Huh? Mistress? Tell me I'm making you feel good with my cock."

You whine when he gives your pussy quick and hard thrusts. You nod your head and cover your eyes with your arm, "Y-Yes! Y-Yes you're making me feel good! Ah! Keep going just like that! Ah!"

Your arm is moved away from covering your face brought down to your side by Sekido. He kneels on the floor, his knees on either side of your head and he glares down at you. "Don't hide your face from us you filthy whore. We want to see just how undone you can be." You stare up at him in a daze, your lower body being used like a cock-sleeve by Aizetsu, and it seemed like the sorrowful demon wasn't letting up.

You whine when an unfamiliar spot was repeatedly stroked by the blue-eyed demon's cock. A pathetic, needy moan escaped from your lips and your toes curl. "W-what was that?! You just- oh! F-Fuck you did it again!" You gasp.

Aizetsu's tongue stuck out from his mouth as he rutted against your body like a dog in heat. His eyebrows furrowed deeply and irises were glazed over as he chanted in a whisper, "So good, so good, feels so-so good. Ohh... ohh..." His voice was losing it's steadiness as his thrusts grew frantic. Never once did he miss hitting that unfamiliar spot inside of you. "I'm al-almost there... almost there. I'm going to cum, c-can I come inside of you?"

You were too far into the moment to hear what he had said. You nodded your head without knowing and that was all the answer he needed. He whimpers, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, o-oh! Hm! A-ah!" Aizetsu gave a few short and rapid thrusts before he stilled his hips and spilled his seed deep into your cervix. Your eyes widened when you felt a pool of warmth inside of you.

The demon pulls his softening cock out of your pussy; his cum leaking out of your abused cunt and trailing down to your puckered hole. The other two demons, Karaku and Urogi grinned widely at the sight of it. Sekido just lets out a grunt after releasing his hold on your arms.

"Well, well, well let's hope you're still tight for the both of us, little minx." Karaku says and he positions your body so that it's laying right on top of his. Yours legs are weak as they shake and your hand holds onto his shoulder for support.

"Wow~ You're not even going to let her have a break first Karaku?" Urogi teases.

The green-eyed demon stuck out his tongue to lick his lips then replies, "Why should I? She's a big strong demon just like we are. She should be able to take the pain." He lines up his tip with your pussy and pushes himself inside. He moans at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him snug. "Fuuck~ Your pussy is even better than I imagined. You feel how you're sucking me in?" You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as you bear through the stretch of Karaku's cock. "Urogi you want to take her ass so we can get this started? I'm about to explode with the way she's gripping me."

Urogi takes his cock out and strokes it. "Aha, don't mind if I do."

He spits a wad of saliva onto your puckered rim before sliding himself into you with ease. You and him both moan together when he entered inside. A drawn-out pleasured moan emitted from Urogi when he feels the snugness around his dick. You covered your mouth with your clawed hands, once again trying to smother the sounds you were making. Your legs were wobbling since you weren't holding onto anything for support.

"Move those hands away from your face. We want to hear you moan like a slut for us." Karaku says. Timidly, you uncovered your mouth and lowered your hands to your collarbones. You kept your eyes closed however and that didn't seem to please the "pleasure" demon. He grumbled, "Open your eyes and look at me."

You shake your head "no" until Urogi yanks you by your hair and your eyes open in surprise from him. "You better listen to what we say or we won't go as easy as Aizetsu did on you." You gasp and nodded your head in fear of what they could do. You look down at Karaku's smirk on his face; shuddering when he moved to sit up right his face right in between your breasts.

"Hmm..." he groans licking a stripe up on your sternum to your neck then sucking on the damp skin there. "Don't ever hide those pretty eyes away from me again, I wanna watch you crumble like sand while we ruin you."

Sekido chided, "Are you going to do anything or you just going to sit there warming your cocks?"

"We're just about to do that boss," Urogi sassed.

"Then hurry it up." He replied.

A mutter, probably a curse, was all Urogi made. The avian demon pulls his cock out half-way then slams his hips against your ass. You quickly go to cover your mouth to mute another moan, but Karaku was faster and predicted that you would do that. He snatched your wrists in his hands and grinned when you released that sluttish cry.

"That's right let us hear you." He raised his hips up and down, matching the rhythm and speed Urogi was giving you. "Let us hear those fucking... delectable sounds. Fuck! Your pussy just tightened around me when I said that. You like it when I talk about you, s-shit, like you're a slut don't you?" You shake your head, but your cunt tightens around him again. Karaku laughs and hollers, "Oh fuck! I'm getting so excited right now with you!"

"You should see, damn, her ass bouncing on my cock right now Karaku. You're taking my cock so f-fucking well!" Urogi exclaimed, he lets go of your hair and presses his mouth into your ear. His thrusts get harder, "Sweet tight little ass. I want to hear that mouth tell us what you're feeling. You're feeling good little slut? Huh?"

You whimper when Karaku sucks on your nipple while watching you lose yourself into the abyss of pleasure. You felt like your brain was turning into mush as the two demons had you bouncing on their thick cocks. "It feels so f-fucking good. The way- the way you're deep inside of me! Oh my god!" You arch your back and let out a squeak when Karaku's dick hit that unfamiliar spot from before. "T-There Karaku, right there please! O-oh! Y-Yes!"

Karaku popped his mouth away from your nipple and held you by the neck, fucking his dick up into you roughly and stimulating your sweet spot. "Shit... fucking take my cock. Take it all... just like that! Oh yes, sweet little demoness, I'm gonna spill my cum deep inside of you. Nice and swollen with my cum. You might end up pregnant with my children."

The mention of you being impregnated surprised you and your walls tightened once more. "Y-Yes, fill me up with your cum. I want it... I want it... f-fuck!" You mutter in a daze, and place your hands on the demon's shoulders. You let out a squeal when Urogi nibbled on your earlobe. "...deep inside of me. Oh my god... oh fuck... h-happening... something's happening..."

They go faster inside of each of your holes. Urogi's talons pinch into your hips causing you to bleed and Karaku's mouth latches on your nipple brutally sucking at it again. You let out a squeal, body trembling, and an orgasm spilling right out from you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You wail out, tossing your head back. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes at this point.

Urogi groans after you've came on their dicks, "Damn, I'm gonna paint the inside of your ass with my cum, whore." He huffs into your ear, then chuckles darkly, "Ah shit, you ready for it? Shit, here it comes. Here it fucking comes!" His hips repeatedly pound into your ass then stills when he's buried into the hilt stuffing you with his seed.

A gasp comes from you once you feel a warmth in your ass. "I feel it, oh my god, I can feel your cum!" You press your hand down on your lower abdomen, unknowingly causing Karaku to feel the added pressure on his cock that was sheathed inside of you.

The green-eyed demon groans and mouths wetly against your nipple. "Fuck, pull out of her Urogi, and get out of my way."

Urogi reluctantly does remove himself from you and scoots to a different position away from the two. Karaku's hands go to your hips, squeezing them tight he lifted your body up and slammed you down on his cock. It punches out moans from you when he kept repeating it over and over. Not once did he relent or showed you mercy. He was abusing your cunt and pushing you into having another orgasm. Which you unexpectedly did. Your walls pulsated on his dick and body shook as you were bounced on Karaku's length. Your eyes were heavy, tongue lolling out of your mouth and a long weak moan you made.

"Heheh~ Look at you now, it looks like we've dumbed you out already. Haha~ Fuck, fuck, I think I'm going to cum." His eyes looks down at where you're connected with him and the thick ring of white covers his shaft. Along with his groin dampen with your juices. The demon throws his head back and pulls you down on his cock while he cums deep inside of you. Karaku hisses, "Shit, shit, shit,"

You collapse forward onto him, thankfully he catches you and holds you in his arms for a moment. While the two of you are gathering your breaths, the last demon of the hour, Sekido stands with his cock still hard. Your eyes drift over to his towering figure and his raging red eyes. You swallow nervously as you recalled how he had handled you so roughly earlier. Maybe you had made the right choice in getting them to fuck you from most gentle to least gentle. However a part of you felt you were going to regret it by how the sour expression on Sekido's face looked when he made eye contact with you.

You didn't say a word as you shakily slid the demon's cock out from you and crawled towards Sekido. He stood there planted to the floor waiting for your next move. They must have really made you dumb because you grabbed his cock and attempted to put it in your mouth. He growled at that. Sekido stops you by placing his hand on your forehead and pushing you away from his dick.

"You stupid whore, did I give you permission to suck my cock?"

You whimpered at his harsh tone. You thought that he would have enjoyed it since you didn't do it for him. Also you thought it would be a way of requesting for him to be easy with you.

Sekido's eyes narrowed at you, "What? Now you can't speak? I asked you a question you idiot!" You flinched when his hand snagged your hair and tilted your head back. "Answer my question. Did I... give you permission... to suck, my, cock?"

You shook your head and replied with a timid, "N-No."

"No, what?"

"No, Sekido-"

Slap!

Your head was turned to the side after the sudden struck to your cheek. Your eyes widen in shock, and you locked eyes with the rageful demon. Sekido snarls, "I'm not like these other fools and give someone as unworthy, disgusting, and pitiful as you a right to even say my name. You better address me as Lord Sekido from now on you filthy wench."

A nod was your response, before you quickly said, "Yes Lord Sekido."

He grunted with a finality then released your hair. "Look away from me and get on your hands and knees."

You obeyed his demand and did what he instructed you to. Sekido grabs the back of your head with one hand and pushes your face into the wooden floor. The other hand clutches both your wrists and hold them behind your back. You weren't even made aware of when he was going to put his cock inside of you.

"This is what you were made for. Just to be a cock-sleeve to four demons. You look filthy right now. Cum from different men dripping out of your used holes like a whore. I shouldn't even stick my cock inside of you, fucking slut." You let out a whine, but he silenced it with more pressure onto your head. "Shut the hell up! Earlier you were fighting against us and said vile things to us. Now you want for the one that you fear the most to treat you delicately and show you mercy?"

He leaned down to press his mouth to your ear. "Let me tell you one thing, Y/N." Your body jolted forward when he sheathed himself, without warning, into your pussy and your walls tightening around his length. Sekido grunted at the warmth and wetness you were exuding. "You're the one who's pathetic," He slams his cock against your sweet spot. "You're the one who's unworthy," He pulls himself out fully, "And you're the one who's useless."

Clap!

A squeak came from you when Sekido slams his cock fully deep into you again. Your body writhed while the demon was treating you like what he said you were: a cock-sleeve. He was pounding into your core with no clemency. He was fucking you like he hated every atom of your existence. A series of moans left your mouth with little to no regret of how you sounded. You were enjoying this, Sekido saw this, and it was pissing him off.

"Slut! Fucking slut!" He growls. His hand releases the grip on your hair to slap your ass. Afterwards he holds you by the front of your neck and squeezes it tight to where you can't breathe. Your pussy clenches around his dick and you cum again for the third, fourth (?) time that day.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you whine out, "Yes... y-yes, yes, yes! Lord Sekido! Hmm! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Your words were taunting him, how dare you speak like that? He was trying to teach you a lesson but you were somehow putting the odds of this in your favor. "Oh! Lord Sekido!"

The tip of his cock was jabbing at your cervix, making you whine and meet his rapid thrusts with your hips. Your skins slapping at an unsteady and wild rhythm. His claws dug into your neck causing you to bleed. Sekido was wanting for you to hate this as much as he hated you behaving like a harlot for them. Unfortunate for him you weren't keen on giving him the satisfaction. Especially when you cry out, "Cum inside of me, Lord Sekido! Cum inside!"

"No!" He barks out then slams his dick into you harder. His nails drag across your neck more blood gushing onto the floor in a puddle. "I, ha, won't give you that, ha, you slut." He panted.

He could feel himself getting closer to his end. Sekido leans over your shoulder blade his fangs grazing along your skin. The temptation of embedding his teeth into your naked and unmarked skin eats at him. He couldn't just ignore it. Sekido sinks his fangs into your shoulder meanwhile growling like an animal when he does so. You scream out in pleasure upon the sudden bite and rut closer to him.

Abruptly the demon male pulls himself out from your thoroughly abused cunt and strokes his cock. Sekido hisses when he shoots his cum all over your pussy and on the floor. Your body still positioned on your knees, face on the wooden floor, and limp arms at your sides. He pants after he's released himself, sitting on the floor and admiring the work he just put into you. You were a mess. Your legs were twitching. Their cum was dripping out of your pussy. You had scratches, some bite marks, and a few bruises on you.

But damn it, did you still look pretty.

With your body exhausted from the rounds of sex you've just endured you shut your eyes and fell into a deep slumber. You woke up hours later to find out it was the dead of night, then you remembered that you needed to infiltrate the swordsmith village with Hantengu. You go to stand to your feet and you rush outside the shack till you recalled the events that happened during the day. You had sex with four of Hantengu's counterparts.

"Oh my god!" You lament then enter back into the shack. You then realized you were fully clothed and there seemed to be no sort of injuries on you. Well of course there wouldn't be any you were a demon after all. As you look around in the shack they weren't there. The demons were gone. The only thing that proved what happened to you was a rolled up scroll on a makeshift table.

You squinted your eyes as you tried to read the illegible handwriting and crossed out words.

[To: Y/N wench pretty girl Y/N

By the time you wake your pathetic ass up we will have left to go hunt for the surdsmitt vullige swordsmith village. Remember your mission to distract the mist hashira and love hashira while we kill the kid with the hanafuda earrings. After we're done killing the little brat we'll come back to you too We will meet you at the rendezvous point if everything goes according to plan. It won't go according to plan It will go according to plan This should go smoothly.

From: Aizetsu Urogi Karaku HANTENGU

from: aizetsu]

You let out a sigh, "I hope we all make it out alive you idiots. And if we don't well," You look down at the remnants of cum still dripping from your body with a fond smile. "I won't forget you."

notes: omg this was the longest smut i've ever wrote and it took me weeks to finish but it is here! lmk what you think of it!

© demiesworld

[choslut]

WE’RE SO BACK. a blog reopening event by @choslut.

hi loves! so if you didn’t know, i went on a little (long) hiatus and now, a year later, i’m making my official return as @choslut !! i’ve missed tumblr and i can’t wait to get writing again :)

to celebrate my return, i'll be posting a series of 12 short fics over the course of 24 days. it'll work a little like kinktober, with each character i decide to write for having a main theme being followed throught the fic. i'm doing this in the hopes that i can make this blog a little more active again and regain some of my lost followers !! most/all works will be nsfw, so, as stated in my rules, minors do not interact with this event.

this event will be starting on 1st sept and all fics will be posted under the tag " ❲ luna’s return ❳ ", so make sure to follow it if you want to see what i post over the course of the event !! keep reading to see this event's masterlist, and i hope you enjoy !! <33

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ MASTERLIST : 11/12

works containing dark/heavy content will have topics highlighted in bold.

DAY 1 : DRESS UP DOLL ft. satoru gojo — wc. 0.8k

tags // lingerie, daddy kink, light praise, creampie, possessive behaviour, spanking, light choking, hickeys, overstimulation (if you squint)

DAY 2 : SHARING IS CARING ft. toji fushiguro + shiu kong — wc. 0.7k

tags // voyeurism, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, cowgirl, mentions of threesomes, slut shaming

DAY 3 : FWB ft. aki hayakawa — wc. 0.9k

tags // friends with benefits, semi-hatefucking, dirty talk, banter, heavy petting, angst, drug misuse (weed)

DAY 4 : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko — wc. 0.8k

tags // shibari, implied dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, voice kink, slight hand kink

DAY 5 : BABY MOMMA ft. kento nanami — wc. 0.9k

tags // breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle

DAY 6 : BLACKOUT ft. childe — wc. 1k

tags // asphyxiation, choking, dry humping, sparring kink, hate sex, light dirty talk, semi-public sex, light spanking, clit slapping, squirting, creampie, loss of consciousness

DAY 7 : SAY 'AAH' ft. wriothesley — wc. 0.7k

tags // orgasm delay/denial, public sex, cockwarming, dirty talk, edging, slight exhibitionism, possessive behaviour, public groping, slight praise kink

DAY 8 : BITE ME ft. miguel o’hara — wc. 0.8k

tags // biting, size kink, fingering, squirting, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, teasing, paralysis, venom usage, mentions of blood/blood licking, dirty talk

DAY 9 : LUCKY GIRL ft. daichi sawamura — wc. 0.9k

tags // panty kink, bimbo!reader, locker room, panty fucking, slight dubcon, overstimulation, squirting, clit stimulation, light dirty talk

DAY 10 : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask — wc. 0.9k

tags // outdoor sex, misogyny, manipulation, creampie, spanking, fucking to survive (not really but he says it is), wall sex, orgasm delay, slight mask kink, god complex!sniper mask, implied dubcon

DAY 11 : SWEET TALK ft. choso — wc. 0.7k

tags // cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso

DAY 12 : INKED ft. suguru geto — wc. 1.1k

tags // tattoos, slight masochism, dirty thoughts, suggestive actions, possessive behaviour, tattoo artist x florist trope, voice kink, dirty talk, praise kink, latex kink (if you squint), implied fingering, marking (literally and figuratively), implied virgin!reader, slight dubcon

see my main blog masterlist here !!

© choslut — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[s-4pphics]

tag, you're it! (e.w.)

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY 

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it 

wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it

“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!” 

You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge. 

You were… fucked. 

You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail. 

Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?

A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess. 

You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace. 

Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside. 

The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat. 

Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!

Fuck security cameras. 

Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it. 

But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.

Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time. 

You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now. 

Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it. 

Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.

… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass. 

And she keeps staring at you. 

Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz. 

You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk. 

“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you. 

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller. 

“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “

“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “

You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again. 

She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes. 

You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit. 

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under. 

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.

Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.

“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “

“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.” 

“But— “

“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill. 

You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart. 

Ellie was brought up in isolation. 

Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company. 

The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen. 

She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while. 

But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it. 

Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing. 

Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder. 

Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple. 

Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.

It all made her nauseous. 

… But art didn’t. 

She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.

She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.

She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.

The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted. 

It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.

But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care. 

She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture. 

And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?! 

You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed. 

She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft. 

She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate. 

She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted. 

When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself. 

She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat. 

You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing. 

You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.

But it also made her lustful. Hungry. 

And she couldn’t stop staring. 

When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car. 

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again. 

I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?

Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck. 

At that moment, she knew what she had to do.

It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing. 

You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive. 

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.

You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing. 

Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again. 

They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever. 

They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?

You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings. 

What the fuck is going on?

When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering. 

The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments. 

Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god. 

What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection. 

You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine. 

It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl. 

A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.

Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.

And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive. 

You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship. 

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

M. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

M.

… Miller Enterprise. 

Miller. 

… Freckles. 

…. What in the fuck. 

It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you. 

It had been five days. 

You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets. 

You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels. 

You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark. 

But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance. 

Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you. 

You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?

She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it. 

She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off. 

Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you? 

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her. 

You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs. 

You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip. 

You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.

You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.

Ellie was so nervous. 

She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.

The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not. 

She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time. 

This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it. 

She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion. 

She hated it, she hated it. 

But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it. 

She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.

But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway. 

… Fuck.

Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!

Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.

Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!

You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—

She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly. 

Keep your grip tight when you strike! 

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.” 

You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you. 

You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward. 

Deep breath. 

“Hi, Ellie.”

Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass. 

“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?” 

“I think you know how.” 

You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset. 

“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared. 

She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.

“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.” 

… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?

She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten. 

You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.” 

“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.” 

Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline. 

You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it. 

You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building. 

… Funny. 

“Press it.” 

Her scowl hardened, “What?” 

You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?” 

She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you. 

“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.” 

You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk. 

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?” 

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed. 

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.” 

“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight. 

It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage. 

She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums. 

“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“

You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket. 

“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration. 

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did. 

“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?” 

“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.” 

You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness. 

“Then do it.”

The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened. 

You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.

Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction. 

She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting. 

You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered. 

You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room. 

She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you. 

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?” 

“N-No— “

“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.

She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.

“Look at me,” you whispered. 

She hesitantly met your eyes. 

“You wanna kiss me?”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench. 

“Answer me.” 

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke. 

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?” 

She whined out a needy uh huuuh! 

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist. 

She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth. 

You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth. 

You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth. 

The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer. 

You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.

You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone. 

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.” 

You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them. 

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?” 

She nodded quickly. 

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out. 

“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.” 

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor. 

“Want me to do what?”

She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red. 

“Um…” 

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance. 

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky. 

But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs. 

She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down. 

“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”

You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you. 

You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together. 

“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.

She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned. 

You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.

“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”

She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched. 

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. 

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?” 

She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!

“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”

She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights. 

You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue. 

“Get ‘em wet.”

She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek. 

You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them. 

You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you. 

“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. 

She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue. 

“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”

She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open. 

“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”

You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her. 

You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth. 

You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers. 

She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt. 

“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”

Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“ 

“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”

Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet. 

“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her. 

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”

She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “

Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “

She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.

“Fuckmemommy!”

You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!

You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch. 

“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears. 

“M-Mhhm!—“

“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.

You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.

“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?

She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!

It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm. 

You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you. 

“Like when I touch you there?” 

“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.

“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her. 

“Fuck yes!” 

“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”

You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!

The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”

Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”

You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself. 

You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face. 

“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”

She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down. 

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?” 

“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred. 

“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”

She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”

You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.

“C’mon, honey.” 

Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off. 

Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands. 

You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it. 

“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask. 

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp. 

“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers. 

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.” 

You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.

“… Hm.” 

You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?” 

She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded. 

Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.” 

You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.

Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!

“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?” 

“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.

Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak. 

“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?” 

You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.

“Up to you.” 

“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip. 

You leaned back in her mom’s seat. 

“Ellie.” 

The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides. 

“Yes?” 

“… C’mere.” 

She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you. 

You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater. 

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.” 

She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor. 

You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—

“Are they… Do you like them?” 

Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you. 

Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently. 

“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.” 

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.” 

You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down. 

Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants. 

Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered. 

You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth. 

She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard. 

Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back. 

“Feels so… mmh!”

You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers. 

And then you slapped it. Hard. 

She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm. 

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist. 

You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant. 

The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned. 

“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?” 

She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you. 

“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?” 

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”

She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “

“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.” 

You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body. 

“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.

“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout. 

“Mhm!”

You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk. 

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt. 

You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression. 

“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.” 

She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”

Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.” 

Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment. 

You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?” 

Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.

“You’re fucking cra— “

You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.

“Say it.” 

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily. 

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.” 

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered. 

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.” 

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store. 

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?” 

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?” 

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead. 

“Yes, baby, you may.” 

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours. 

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight. 

“Want me t’show you how?” 

She nodded intensely. 

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head. 

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.” 

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you. 

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out. 

“Lick me, then, honey.” 

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there. 

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out. 

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks. 

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes. 

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls. 

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit. 

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you. 

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room. 

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!” 

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin. 

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck. 

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass. 

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning. 

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK! 

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint. 

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!” 

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.” 

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail. 

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk. 

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you. 

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.” 

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you. 

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle. 

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her. 

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth. 

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag. 

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard. 

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand. 

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking. 

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.” 

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder. 

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling. 

“Taste like fucking honey.” 

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation. 

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness. 

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.” 

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back. 

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench. 

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her. 

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?” 

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?” 

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name. 

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling. 

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her. 

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again. 

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit. 

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder. 

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again. 

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy. 

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up. 

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it. 

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips. 

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria. 

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still. 

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust. 

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear. 

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her. 

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you. 

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips. 

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence. 

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down. 

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you. 

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.” 

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?” 

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.” 

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes. 

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?” 

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache. 

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart. 

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you. 

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes. 

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest. 

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.” 

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction. 

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing. 

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.” 

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked. 

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you. 

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench. 

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?” 

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips. 

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft. 

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires. 

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her. 

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you. 

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you. 

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think. 

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately. 

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick. 

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate. 

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close. 

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again. 

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock. 

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you. 

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her. 

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state. 

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you. 

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back. 

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face. 

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic. 

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily. 

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you. 

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle. 

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments. 

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her. 

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?” 

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.” 

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in. 

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” 

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault. 

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive. 

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob. 

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right. 

You were worthless. Held no value in this society. 

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.” 

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will. 

Maybe in another life. 

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE 

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit 

don’t hate me too much? 

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly 

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

[azrielhours]

Company of Phantoms

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 2k

Synopsis: Azriel has a crush that's overtaking his life. He's so obsessed with her that he starts hallucinating her lol.

A/N: inspired partly by The Haunting of Hill House and this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel sat and watched, thanked the Mother for all his training for the privilege it allowed him to take her in. Hell—if all the knowledge he possessed peaked and surrendered to this, the holy act of observing her, if this was all it was good for, Azriel would be content. He even felt lighter about the horrors of his past, felt an absolved ease knowing it all would end with this act of penitence. An arm’s-length indulgence.   

With her.

But she was starlight, an ectoplasmic celestial body that glowed. She smiled so big and bright it made his breath catch. He’d have to look away sometimes to relieve the ache she carved into his chest.  

If she shone any less, it would be an act of mercy.

But Azriel had always veered on the side of masochism.

He was afraid his darkness would make her wink out. Didn’t want to be the cause of her dimming. Would never dream of contaminating that joy. Even when she’d smile at him, even when he’d struggle to return it, left instead with the sight of hers faltering at his coldness.

He could stand the shame sluicing through his chest cavity, take the sting of hurt all for the assurance he’d insist to himself—that this was the noble thing.

Everyone adored her, and it was what she deserved. The foul-mouthed temptress she was, making males redden at the dirty jokes she told, laughing bright and beautiful. The empathy she dealt like medicine that drew friends to her like a siren luring sailors. Secret keeper. Rhys doted on her, bought her jewelry to watch her face light up. Azriel never missed how his brother’s face would crinkle with adoration, with the ease of loving her when she opened his stream of gifts.

She was easy to love.

It was like she was slotted just right to each person.

He often wondered how she would mould to him should he ever open up, to return her generous smiles that had begun growing seldom.

She was soft with Feyre, creative and adventurous. Often found up to various artistic schemes no one else understood, discussing motifs and strokes, tragedy and yearning. Gone for hours to emerge with bright eyes and paint smears.

She cried to Cassian, and it was an effort to reign in Azriel’s envy, to listen to the drowning voice of reason telling him to be glad she was being comforted rather than to rage at his thieving brother as he’d stroke away her tears with gentler hands than those dealt to him in his life. She’d lie next to Nesta on her heavier days. Read to her, talk about foreshadowing and hope that made Nesta’s eyes light up.

It was always light brought to others. Her contagious aura.

And damn him, it was like his youth all over again, watching his brothers care for Mor, watching how she fit seamlessly.

How she chose Cassian. Never him. How she cried to Rhys, never him.

It seemed Azriel would always be haunted by the ghosts of his past.

And damn him for still possessing that otherness that punctured holes in his chest then, the same holes now that made it impossible to heave in a full breath, to sleep soundly. An undead soldier. It’d been weeks of this incessant torment. His heart would palpitate til his body perceived a threat. No sleep in the night—thoughts of her haunted him, taunting—so he’d pace like a lingering spirit.

He could see her always.

In the dark quiet of the house, there’d be a flash of silk around corners. Someone tossing hair over a shoulder. The echo of a laugh in another hallway. He’d creep to it, try to spy it out only to be met with empty corners.

Yet there in his peripherals, at the ends of hallways in the dark—

Again and again—glimpses.

His ghost.

His bed had become a grave, no peace found in it to rest. No food for the dead, only scraps—libations offered into the fire that was his belly. In the fleeting moments of rest, oftentimes in armchairs in all the wrong rooms, he’d meet her. She glowed even there, that phantom halo that marked a ghost. A beacon of light to his shadowy storm. She’d hold his hands and love him. And when he’d fade back to consciousness, in the early morning hours, if he sat still long enough, he knew he would hear her murmurs echoing down the halls.

Azriel wanted with all his might, wanted like it was his purpose.

Wanted like it could possibly mean something. Do something.

Wanting was all Azriel knew.

Beneath his shadows, beneath the contained lethal capacity of his body, any semblance of sanity, beneath ancient bone and immortal rot, he wondered if his soul was made purely of desire.

It made sense then, he supposed, that if he was wanting at his basest self, he would dream about nothing more than to have the unattainable. A ghost.

A wish.

It was impossible to eat. Sleeplessness stole his appetite. He consumed coffee in the morning and drank on an empty stomach in the evening. Nesta saw—she knew, pressing fruit and bread in his hand sometimes, but mostly she was quiet, which Azriel thanked her for in equal silence.

Tell her, Az, she whispered once. He’d shaken his head, and that was that.

Sometimes when everyone was home, he could pretend like it didn’t exist, the pull to her. He’d try to relax in his flesh and participate in having a family, but then she’d walk into the room, having just come home from somewhere Azriel knew every detail about.

The effort to not stare, to not care nor assess, to calm his heart, his mind—the shift out of the state of pretended calmness to an even worse pretence of calmness—the stream of thoughts that would pummel his brain would jolt so violently, the wanting was so violent that Feyre would flinch.

He couldn’t stand it—the lying. He knew everyone was doing it. Pretending they didn’t see what haunted him. At the first damned prod of a dark talon at his mind, Azriel stood, leaving. Ignoring how she peered at him with a pinch between her brows, stepping out of the path.

Azriel exhaled, watched his breath curl in the cool night air. Closed his eyes in exasperation as he heard footsteps approaching on the balcony. Whatever wise words Rhys may attempt to offer could be shoved up—

“Azriel,” Feyre spoke gently.

He turned, taking in his High Lady. “Feyre, I don’t really—”

“Az,” she cut him off, “I—don’t mean to pry. But you’re not—” she exhaled. “I know you haven’t been eating, and Rhys says—”

“It’s fine, Feyre,” he said softly. It was his own fault for not reigning in his thoughts. He wondered how much more he’d been broadcasting in his state, made clumsy by restlessness. If Feyre knew of the glimpses he trailed after at night—the ghost chasing.

She frowned, concern swimming in her eyes. Insomnia can cause hallucinations, she spoke gently into his mind.

Azriel scoffed. “I’m not hallucinating.”

Feyre stepped closer, caressing his elbow. “You know, if you’d just talk to her—”

“I can’t.”

She paused for a beat. “I can help put you to sleep, if you want.”

He just shook his head. Feyre accepted his boundary, leaving him to linger in his purgatory. He stayed, breathing in the cold until things quieted in the house.

Re-entering the emptied lounge, he sat, meeting wakefulness like a reluctant ally. His shadows curled at his cold ears. In her room, they informed. Saying goodnight.

Azriel listened to the sounds of his family settling in. He closed his eyes, envisioned how she might look, if she was perhaps brushing her hair, how she might look in the dim glow of a faelight. Settled and safe. Or—even better, he imagined her coming down, seeking him out. How lovely she’d look descending the stairs. If he focused hard enough, he could make out the sound—

Azriel opened his eyes, awaiting the gentle creak of wood.

His heart skipped a beat. Was she indeed coming to him?

He rose, quietly making his way to the stairs, wanting to see her descend to him.

Her steps were growing closer, and Azriel peered up the darkened stairwell—

She must’ve turned around, but Azriel caught the glow of an aura at the top, around the corner.

He made his way up, listening with all his might.

There—the rustle of silk. He sent his shadows ahead in the dark, not wanting to frighten her.

Clear, they whispered. He stalked down the hall, turning corners, walking past the low chatter behind various bedroom doors. He was nearly at the end of the hall when—

At her door, a shadow curled at his ear. Azriel frowned, if she was at her door, how could she—

A soft feminine laugh made him turn. Nothing, but he was sure—

There was that silk again, trailing around a corner.

Azriel blinked, making his way over. She was looking for him, he was certain.

More pacing around the darkened halls, trying to catch sight of that silk again.

Azriel.

He froze.

She’d called him.

A few walls over, he could recognize that voice. He whipped his head in the direction, creeping over.

Nothing.

Azriel.

There—again, he turned the other direction, blindly following.

Azriel.

He walked faster, his shadows swarming all around his body and up the walls, trying to catch his name.

Azriel.

Azriel.

“Azriel?”

He jolted, turning to the source.

Y/N stood in her doorway directly to his side, making him halt in his tracking. She took in the agitated churning of his shadows, burying him in darkness.

She was—there she was.

Azriel took a step toward her. She’d called him.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

She looked up at him wide-eyed. “Are you—alright?”

He assessed her. She—how could she be here so quickly, if he’d seen—

He looked around the hall, trying to make it make sense. He frowned, turning back to her. She was partially behind the threshold of the door, apprehension tensing her form under his scrutiny, the restlessness marking darkness beneath his eyes.

He was making her nervous.

Azriel immediately reigned in his shadows, relaxing his stance to a neutral posture rather than his previous mid-prowl stride, tucking his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke gently. “I thought I…did I wake you?”

She shook her head, stepping more fully in the doorway, making Azriel relax. “No, I—your shadows were under my door, and when I came to them, I could hear…someone wandering outside.”

Azriel blinked. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She bit her lip, assessing him. “It’s alright. Why were you pacing?”

“I, uh—I couldn’t sleep.”

She nodded. “I heard Rhys tell Feyre you’ve been having trouble sleeping,” she said quietly.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, his head dipped in confirmation.

She nodded again in thought, peering up at him again with that wonder. Azriel should’ve taken Feyre up on her offer, should’ve known better. He should apologize again and stop bothering her— “Would you, um, like to come in?”

Azriel’s breath caught.

She shifted her weight. “If—if you can’t sleep, I mean—I’m awake, and—”

“Yes,” he said.

Surprise lit up her eyes despite her offer, and she nodded and stepped aside to let him in.

Azriel’s heart was in his throat. His sleep-deprived state blurred the edges of his reserve, but he allowed himself to take the opportunity.

In her room, he took in the warm space. She closed the door behind him and came to stand beside him. She was indeed in a nightgown, hair unbound, glowing as usual. He averted his gaze when she blushed beneath his stare.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I haven’t had much rest lately.”

“That’s okay,” she said, stepping closer. “I know, I—usually I can hear you pacing at night,” she confessed. He hadn’t realized he’d been that overt. She beckoned him to walk to her bed, perching at the end of it. She smiled, gently patting the space next to her.

Azriel swallowed, making his way to her.

She looked to her bed and back at the Spymaster. “I, uh—you do look tired, Azriel.”

“Do I?” he was pleasantly surprised to find contentment in her space—in her presence. The longest he’d ever spoken to her, and it turned out to be easier than breathing.

“Mhm,” she nodded, taking him in. She raised a hand to his face, tracing the bruises beneath his eyes with gentle fingertips. “Poor thing,” she breathed, frowning. “I know how hard it can be to have insomnia.”

She lowered her hand, clasping them in her lap. She looked to the pillows again, then back to him. Azriel resisted the upward tug of his lips, seeing how long it would take her to invite him to sleep.

How careless did sleeplessness make him, indeed.

He simply nodded. “It is hard.”

“It helps if you feel someone,” she spoke softly, blushing. “I sometimes sleep with one of the girls.”

Azriel hummed in thought.

“Or—you know, we can get you a sleeping tonic.”

“We could try that.”

She suddenly averted his gaze, crossing her arms across her abdomen. In a small voice, she said, “I know you don’t—like me, Azriel, but—”

He frowned. “I do like you,” he interjected.

She paused, meeting his gaze. “You do?” The vulnerability swimming in her eyes made him shift closer to her on the bed.

“I do.” He thanked the Mother for the inhibition of his judgement.

She was silent for a beat. “But—you leave the rooms I enter,” she said in that small voice.

Azriel’s heart broke. He dared to reach a hand out, gently taking hers. “It’s—it’s because I like you,” he said lowly.

Her mouth parted in an o shape, and she squeezed his hand, a small smile overtaking her lovely face.

“You were my ghost,” he muttered.

Confusion drew her brows together. “What?”

Azriel smiled, a laziness creeping up his body that he’d missed for weeks. “I’ll explain it in the morning.”

Her brows shot up, pink tinting her cheeks. “In the morning?” Another glance to the bed.

Azriel laughed. “Unless you want to hear it now.”

She smiled, tentative and sweet, shaking her head. “The morning will do.” She rose, taking his hands in both of hers, prompting him to rise. He held her stare, let her pull him to the head of her bed. She tugged back the covers, sliding under and patting the space next to her again.

Azriel toed off his shoes, took off his outermost layers, placing his belt and various assets onto her dresser. She pulled her knees to her chest, watching intently as he offloaded in her space, basking in the belonging.

When he at last slid beneath the cover, he lay on his back next to her. She reached for his hand beneath the covers, clasping it. Without saying a word, he squeezed her hand. He felt the tension seep out of his body, felt heaviness in his eyelids that matched the one in his chest. She shuffled closer to him so they lay shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t dare move, let her settle against his arm, still only holding his hand under the covers.

As rest crept up on him for the first time in weeks, his restless thoughts were calmed by the warmth of her presence, the kindness he allowed himself to finally taste.

“You know,” she muttered in the dark. “With all your pacing, I was beginning to wonder if this place was haunted.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “Imagine that.”

He could hear the smile on her lips. “Guess it was just our sneaky Shadowsinger.”

Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Guess so.”

She turned, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight Azriel.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

~

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @aroseinvelaris @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ like father, like son

›› chapter 4 ›› nsfw 18+ ongoing multi-chapter fic!

artist: 百分二之一 / https://pin.it/7suU92k

previous chapter ♡ next chapter

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› megumi fushiguro x reader ›› toji x reader x megumi (mfm) ›› 18+ f!reader ›› started: 12/6/23 : updated: 1/29/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are best friends. You've known eachother for almost your whole life. His home has become your second home. As time passes and life happens, Megumi slowly develops feelings for you, even though he's unaware of it. To complicate things further, you're now living with him and his father, who has also taken a liking to you.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, power imbalance, pseudo-incest (they both want y/n, nothing w/ eachother), dubious consent

‹𝟹 tags: good cop bad cop, fluff, smut, angst, toji has a big dick, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji tries to be a good parent, toji is an asshole, toji is trying okay?, daddy dom toji, daddy kink, porn with feelings, porn with plot, friends to lovers, spit / spitting, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, double vaginal pen, double pen, anal, making out, making love, love triangles, praise kink, degradation, light masochism, light sadism, emotional sex, cuckolding, jealousy, jealousy kink, smoking, smoking kink, emotional manipulation, manipulation, polyamory?, father and son share you, protective megumi fushiguro, megumi needs a hug, megumi has a big dick, AGED UP CHARACTERS, dead dove: do not eat, finger sucking, large cock, cum swallowing, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, under desk blow jobs, fingerfucking, face sitting, face riding, 69, mutual masturbation, threesome mfm, lots of smut, loss of virginity

‹𝟹 notes: ch 5 is being written, however i've taken a break on this while i finish my other fic (it's coming soon :D). this is the most up to date chapter i have on here and my ao3. this chapter is FIREEEEEEE tho !!

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 4: Impulse

--

Toji took the opportunity to smoke a cigarette while you were taking a shower. The crisp morning air was cool on his skin as he took a long drag of the cig. He puffed it away, lost in thoughts about what you guys should do today.

The clouds were starting to roll in, and it looked serene from Toji’s balcony. They didn’t live anywhere fancy or expensive, but it was nice being able to feel the peace of the breeze and the comfort of the sun’s warmth. He didn’t want to keep taking things for granted. He would accept and appreciate with enthusiasm from now on.

He inhales more of the smoke before snuffing out the cigarette in an ashtray. There were errands for the house you both needed to attend to, but he also wanted to make it a fun adventure into the city.

--

The steaming hot water of the shower soothed your aching body. You took this moment to think about the past few days and what had transpired. Messing around with Megumi, Toji acting uncharacteristically nice, and the heat of Toji’s gaze as you walked towards the shower. You could feel his eyes glued to your back as you walked away. You didn’t know what to think of it, but your body sure as hell did.

The attention was kinda nice. You liked feeling wanted, even in this fucked up way.

You foamed up your soap before washing your body, quickly finishing up your shower. You still had to get dressed and do your hair and makeup, and you didn’t want to make Toji wait.

You got out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your body. You leave and make your way towards your room, dripping and only covered by a measly towel. The steam escaped the bathroom, clouding the surrounding area.

Megumi isn’t paying much attention to his surroundings as he walks towards his room. Mindlessly scrolling through twitter, he bumps into you. He startles you enough to where your towel shifts in place, revealing your cleavage.

It’s not enough to see anything substantial, but for Megumi, it’s more than enough. He knows what’s under there anyway, and seeing you dripping wet with only a towel to cover yourself was sending explicit thoughts straight to his brain.

He blushes, apologizes, and quickly walks away towards his room, head down in embarrassment.

You shrug, not really putting much thought into it as you reach your room and close the door behind you. You don’t want to dress up for a simple errand run, so you decide upon black leggings and a fluffy, oversized sweater. You can’t choose between fuzzy boots or simple converse, but ultimately choose the latter.

Brushing your hair and putting it up into a claw clip was simple enough for the look. Light makeup, nothing too crazy, maybe a little eyeliner and you’re done soon enough.

You grab your bag and phone, leaving your room. You see Toji waiting for you, sitting on the couch talking about pointless stuff with Megumi. He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and looks up at you.

The contrast between a cute, fluffy, and oversized sweater with tight leggings that hug your hips is extremely pleasing for him. Toji is already getting up, making his way towards the front door.

You quickly walk over to where Megumi is sitting on the couch and rustle his hair a bit. “Bye Gumi, text me if you need anything from me!” You smile at him and walk away, towards Toji.

Megumi notices the exact same details of your body as Toji. Like father, like son of course. He’s thinking back to when he bumped into you, almost dropping your towel and revealing yourself. He licks his lips. And now? Watching you walk away, perfect ass in those tight as fuck leggings? He was already envisioning how he wants to rip those leggings off and take you right there, in front of his dad.

--

You and Toji are heading into the city, running errands, but also just keeping each other company. You both agreed grocery shopping should be last so you could head home right after; so now Toji is driving you both to the shopping plaza.

He plays “dad rock” (think: Nickelback, Green Day, AC/DC type of stuff), but you find it endearing anyways. Not much needs to be said, you sit without speaking much just appreciating each other’s presence. You admire how nonchalant he seems, one hand gripping the steering wheel as the other rests on the center console. His clothes don’t do much to hide his muscular build, scars covering most of his body. The ruggedness of his scars and the rigidness of his muscles are hard to look away from.

Toji notices you staring, but he says nothing. He lets you have his moment, as he lightly smirks while watching the road. You avert your gaze after what feels like eons, feeling embarrassed at your obvious oogling of the man in front of you. You flushed, looking away. You felt wrong and immoral, “This man is like a father to me” kept replaying in your head, louder and louder. Despite this, you were helpless to control the heat you could feel making its way between your legs. You felt ashamed, feeling this way about a man who was basically your father.

--

You both arrive at a shopping plaza, numerous stores and shops packed full with other customers. The weekends were always the busiest, especially around lunch time. Toji parks the car and gets out before opening your door for you. “Princess,” he speaks out, his voice sweet like honey. He would sometimes call you that growing up, but it was very infrequent now at your grown age.

You blush a bit at the sudden usage of your nickname and thank him. “You’re always so kind to me, thank you.” You can’t meet his gaze, but you know it’s locked on you. “Where do you wanna go first?” You ask as you step out of the black sedan.

“Wherever you’d like, doll.” Your mind starts racing at the new pet name he has for you, but you try to not let your face turn more crimson than it already has.

“O-okay… let’s just start walking and browse until we find something!” You probably said this more for you, so you could take a few steps ahead of Toji and hide your face. He follows behind you, allowing you to lead the way.

--

Your shopping spree is pretty uneventful, full of buying some basics like tank tops, t-shirts, leggings, and the occasional plushie. You pass by a lingerie store, and some of the new designs catch your eye. You start gravitating toward the shop’s entrance, telling Toji he could wait in the main area if he’s uncomfortable, but he shakes his head and keeps following you.

Your cheeks are heating up again at the idea of Toji following you around in this intimate setting. You brush it off and keep walking through the displays and counters of bras, bralettes, and other cute lingerie. You pick out a white lacy set of a bralette with matching panties; it’s soft to the touch and dainty.

Toji clears his throat. “Those are nice…. But what about this?” He’s holding up a pink babydoll slip. “It’s cute.” He’s weirdly averting your gaze while holding up the garment.

“Yess!! That’s adorable!!” You take it from his hands, admiring the ruffles and lace adorned with a few bows.

“I’ll get it for ya, if you want, doll.” He’s meeting your eyes again, looking into your soul as you’re practically melting in front of him. You’re convinced you are a blushing mess, and honestly, that’s not the only mess right now.

“Thank you… but you don’t have to…” You’re looking down at the dress again, unable to face him out of embarrassment.

“I want to.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw him lick his lips as he made that statement.

You nod. You make sure the size is correct and start making your way to the checkout counter. You’re called to the register as the women greets you.

She tries to make small talk about how cute the set is when she notices the dress. “This is so cute! My boyfriend loves when I wear this too!” You freeze when you realize she assumes you and Toji are a couple.

Toji chuckles a bit. “I see he has good taste as well. I’m looking forward to seeing it later…” He finishes, his voice deepening a bit. You can’t mistake it now, he is definitely playing with you. As much as it confuses you, it excites you tenfold. Thoughts of him admiring you, touching you, maybe more… are rushing through your head making you lightheaded.

He pays for the items and you both leave. The plaza is an open shopping center, and storm clouds had already been accumulating. Shortly after stepping out, it starts to lightly rain. You both rush to take cover next to a building adjacent to the shop you were just in.

You’re both against the wall, with you lightly panting after the slight workout. You’re giggling now, humored that you didn’t read the forecast and thoughts like of course it would rain right now. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You hadn’t even noticed Toji was no longer by your side until he was right in front of you, hand place above your head on the wall.

He was immensely close, and you could feel his free hand snaking up your body to grab your chin. “You’re so adorable when you laugh, doll.” He reaches down and places a kiss on your lips, gentle and hesitant at first until he gradually increases his intensity and aggression. He’s kissing you like a man starved of affection, like you’re the meal for the last supper, savoring it as if it was the only good thing to ever happen to him again.

You’re shocked at first, but soon melt into the rhythmic pace of the kiss. Tongues meeting each other, swapping saliva as if you were trying to drink each other fully. Toji bites your lip, eliciting a sweet moan from you. He pushes his body against you, moving his thigh in between your legs. You’re unsure if he can feel the heat emanating between your legs, but you know it’s overwhelming intensity.

You can feel his cock pressed against your abdomen through both of your soaked layers. You move your hand on top of his bulge, pressing against it firmly. The rain lessens momentarily, and

you break contact from the kiss only to whisper “please” to him. That was all Toji needed to hear before practically dragging you back to his car.

--

Toji never forgot his manners, and despite the circumstances he still opened the door for you and laid out a blanket over the cold leather seats of the back of his sedan. However, there was a sense of urgency as he put everything together, finishing and gently pushing you into the back seat. Although the car was pretty spacious, the moment Toji climbed in after you, the absolute behemoth of a man made the car feel pretty cramped. Despite this, he tried to ensure your comfort.

“I know it’s not ideal, princess, but I can’t wait until we get home. And it seems like you can’t either.” His sultry voice teases you, as he starts pulling off some of your wet clothes. He leaves kisses in a trail down your neck, then your chest, and stopping above your waistband. “Do you want this, doll?” He questions as his hands start tugging at the band of your leggings. Your body should be cold with the wet clothes, but you only feel heat radiating in your core. You nod your head, meeting his hands and trying to hurry and take the rest of your clothes off.

Toji clicks his tongue. “Good girls use their words.” You feel a surge of what felt like electricity as the words ‘good girl’ left his mouth.

“Yes.. daddy.. please…” You try to hide your face in your elbow, anything to save you from the embarrassment.

“Good girl.” He whispers into your ear, thumbs hooking the waistband of your pants. “You sound so cute when you say that, doll.” He pulls off your leggings, leaving you with only the thin, but soaked, fabric of your panties.

He plants more kisses on your inner thigh before teasing you with a finger, panties still on. He rubs your wet slit, noting how soaked you are. Your little moans are music to his ears, as he continues rubbing your cunt through the thin fabric.

“Please, fuck, daddy… more…” You squirm under his touch, trying to press against him for more friction.

“Someone’s an eager little slut, isn’t she? You want daddy that bad, huh?” He taunts, pulling your panties to the side in a lewd attempt to expose your cunt. He spits on his fingers before slipping one inside – not that he would need any with how much you’re dripping for him.

His thick finger is about a knuckle deep and he can already notice how tight you are. “Fuck, baby. Are you a virgin?” You look up at him with wide eyes, nodding. He leans down to give you another kiss. “Perfect.”

He is gently fucking you with his finger, trying to loosen your tight hole a bit. He inserts another finger, feeling you stretch to accommodate him. “You’re doing great, sweetheart.” He purrs as he picks up speed, drilling into your cunt with ferocity. His other hand moves to your core, before his thumb flicks over your clit.

He rubs your button, watching as you make the sweetest faces and the cutest noises. He draws circles around it, causing your hips to buck forward as he continues to fingerfuck your hole. He’s watching you intently, studying everything about you and taking you in.

Any pain or discomfort you felt while he was stretching you quickly disappeared and was replaced by mind numbing pleasure, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. His skilled fingers played your body like an instrument, every movement perfect in its speed, angle, and intensity.

“Who’s my good little girl?” He asks you, expecting an answer while looking down at your already fucked out face.

“I am, daddy!” You answer back, not wasting any time. His fingers curl inside of you, pushing a moan out of you.

His hand on your clit pulls away to lift your chin. “You’re what? Answer me fully, slut.” He says as he spits in your mouth. “Swallow it like a good girl, then answer me properly.”

You do as you’re told. “I’m your good girl, daddy.” He smirks at this, before resuming his touch on your clit. His fingers inside of you hit your sweet spot, pushing you over the edge and causing you to tighten around him.

“Is my slutty little girl gonna cum for me? Yeah? It’s that good already?” His words do nothing but edge you on, forcing you to cum harder than you ever have.

You’re panting by the end of it, already dazed at how amazing it felt. But Toji is just getting started. He pulls down the waist band of his pants, with his briefs following right after. His cock springs free from its confinement. He groans as the cold air touches it.

Normally he’d need more foreplay, but playing with your body and the taboo of the situation were more than enough to make his cock leak precum, anxiously awaiting your cunt. “Daddy has been waiting for this… be a good girl and show him that you love him, doll.”

He wastes no time in pushing the head of his cock against your entrance, spitting on his cock before slipping inside. The tip alone is enough to stretch you beyond what you thought were your limits. Despite the size, he makes sure to take his time for you to get used to it. He can tell it hurts with the tears that are forming. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on you, caressing your cheek as he pushes his large cock ever so deeper inside.

“You’re taking it so well already, sweetheart. It’s like you’re made for me.” He groans as he feels you relax around him. He’s about halfway in now. “I know what you and Megs did….” Your eyes grow wide at his comment. “It’s okay, princess, I know you’re a little whore who can’t get enough. I’m just glad I get to be the first to fill you.” He grins as he forces the rest of his thick cock inside. “It’s almost like you were waiting for me, huh? My little girl, so patient for her daddy…” He coos.

The pain slowly subsides, albeit not completely. You’re too heated in the moment to care about the pain as he quickly picks up pace, pulling out and slamming back in. You whimper every time, only driving Toji wilder with how perfect you are for him.

He starts to ram into your tight cunt as he reaches over and places a hand around your neck. He grips it tightly, enough to put pressure but not completely block airflow. “Such a good fucking toy… take it like a good girl, yeah?” He purrs, bruising your womb with the tip of his cock. He releases his grip on your neck after a few moments, letting you catch your breath again.

Toji fucks you faster, groaning at the tightness of your walls. He pulls your legs up to his shoulders as he presses deeper into you, matching your out of breath state. He’s drilling into you, chasing his own end as he feels your walls tighten around him. “Gonna cum again, darling. Such a dirty girl.”

He reaches his hand to your chin again. “Open,” he commands as he spits into your mouth. “Good girl.” His dominance delivers you your second orgasm of the day, and Toji feels your body tense up as you do so. “Fuuuuck baby, it’s like your cunt is trying to milk my cock-“ He can barely finish his sentence as he feels his cum come gushing out. You feel your walls being painted white, getting filled up with his cum.

“Such a good girl,” he praises. “Are you on the pill?” You nod. He probably should have asked that first, but who cares, certainly not you in your fucked out state. He kisses you again before pulling out and and pushing your panties back in place. “Try not to spill any, doll. And just so you know, I don’t mind if my little girl wants to play with Megs. As long as you remember that you belong to Daddy at the end of the day, you can have as much fun as you’d like, doll.”

--

‹𝟹 notes: ch 5 soon! lmk what y'all think!! feedback is always appreciated &lt;3

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(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[thegnomelord]

17 with Phillip Graves I'm begging🙏

also I just found out about your account and your writing is so good what??? in love w your work

You have no idea how long I've wanted to do something with Graves but couldn't figure out what lol :D Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Oral as punishment.

CW: NSFW, sub Phillip Graves, GN reader but you get referred to as 'doll' but as far as I'm aware it's gn sooo, oral, feminization, semi-public sex, humiliation, cross dressing, mentions of masochism/pain play.

Phillip Graves is a fucking brat.

For weeks now he's been trying to rile you up, sitting next to you whenever you go to eat in the mess hall so his hand can safely wander beneath the table. He's all confident when he does this, laughing along with the other shadows like nothing's wrong, feigning worry when your breathing grows stuttered and heat ravages your skin as if the bastard's not unashamedly groping your crotch.

The little shit knows you won't react in public; he knows what he's doing.

And you know what he wants— the little masochist loves the humiliation of being brought over your knees like a boy as much as he craves the sting of your palm on his ass, the sharp bite of your belt leaving welts on his thighs, the lingering nibble of pain from healing bruises decorating his pale skin like paint flicked by a deranged artist —each lick of pain left by your hands is like a drop of a drug he's addicted to, each session leaving him needing more.

You know you've been indulging him for too long when pulling him into his office has victory sparkling in his eyes, goosebumps spreading across his skin like he's already expecting a slap to the face.

You don't reward him with what he wants. "You're a real menace." You growl, closing the door but leaving it unlocked. "Acting up like a little brat."

"Ah don't know what yer talking about Doll," Graves says smoothly, his eyes lingering on the door. "Just bein' my charming self." He notices you don't lock it, that self-preserving part of his mind catching on faster than he does; you're up to something.

"Sure you are." You grip him by the hair, your lips only an inch apart. "My baby girl just wants to be punished, right?" Tugging on his hair just enough to tease him with what he wants you quickly pull your head away when he attempts to kiss you, shoving a small bag into his hands. "Put this on." You suddenly say.

Graves blinks rapidly, heart stuttering at your words, and he's both worried and aroused by the look in your eyes; like an old trickster god. He looks down and reaches into the nondescript bag, careful as if you've stuffed a bear trap inside it, confusion flaring in his eyes when he feels soft fabric and softer lace.

"You've got to be kidding me-" He snaps sharply, almost insulted, ears and cheeks as pretty pink as the gstring and skirt he now holds in his hand. "-I don't- doll, I can't- I-"

"You can and you will." You cut off his sputtering, yanking on his hair to shut him up. "You wanted to be a brat, I'm treating you like one." Your eyes narrow, pointedly ignoring how your harsh voice has a shiver running down his spine. "Now quit bitching and put that on. Right here."

Graves opens his mouth to argue with a retort burning like hot coals on his tongue, but the self-preservation portion of his mind kicks in from one glance into your eyes and before he knows it he's dropping his pants, embarrassment flooding his chest at how his cock bobs to stand at attention.

"Slut." You huff when you notice he's gone commando again, "I wonder how much the others would like to know their commander's such a whore."

He bites his tongue to silence himself and to stop himself from whining as he slips the panties on, the soft dainty lace trapping his cock, the light pink color darkening the fading bruises on his legs. The skirt comes next, so short it doesn't cover anything, and Phill resists rubbing his thighs together when he sees his cock poke out beneath the skirt's frilly fabric.

"Look at you, pretty girl," You chuckle, reaching down to fondle his cock like he'd done to you, the mix of your rough grip mixed with the silky soft fabric of the panties forcing a moan out of his throat. "Ready to stop being a brat and be a good girl?"

"Yes, please-" Graves quivers, clutching your shoulders and moaning while you continue to grope him, only stopping when there's a prominent damp spot at his tip and swiftly taking your hand away. "Fuck, doll."

You ignore his whining, moving him to sit in his chair, using his jeans as an impromptu cushion for your knees as you get beneath his desk. "Now, you've still got work to do." Your words has dread bubbling in his chest and his cock twitching when you pull his chair close to his desk, throwing his naked legs over your shoulders so he can't roll away. "You're finishing your work, oh, and you don't get to cum."

"Fuck-" Graves sucks in a sharp breath as your lips tickle his tip through the panties, "An' if I do?" He can't help himself, needs to rile you up even as a blush crawls down his neck.

He feels you grin against his tip, nearly jumping out of his chair when you roughly grip his balls, the tight string of the panties pushing down the middle of them to make them more grabbable. "Then this little clit is getting stuck in a cage until I decide to forgive you." You chuckle, slowly and leisurely licking him from base to tip, adding your spit to the liquid soaking the fabric. "Now get back to work."

He roughly brushes a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands to get his focus back before his bleary eyes settle on the laptop. He tries to type a report, but he keeps missing letters because it's fucking hard; you're consistent in your inconsistency, switching up the way you pleasure him with your mouth each time he's beginning to get used to it— lapping at his shaft like a dog one second, lewdly sucking on the tip the next, breaking off periodically to bite his fading bruises or tease his hole.

And all the while you keep his cock trapped in the panties, the constant strain of wet fabric adding to the building pleasure in his gut. Your hands keep him still when he attempts to wiggle or squirm, leaving fingerprint bruises to reward him for staying still as you suckle on his length and pulling moans from his chest.

He forgets the door is unlocked, moaning and groaning and squirming at how your spit cools, sending shivers up his spine. His groin is wet with your spit, from the tip of his cock down to his hole, his muscles spasming beneath your fingers as his body tries to buck into your mouth.

He's breathing like a racehorse and barely able to finish one report out of a few hundred when there comes a sharp knock on the door, followed by "Commander Graves?"

Fear and arousal floods his veins, his eyes quickly falling to you, large like dinner plates as he remembers; "Doll-"

"What are you waiting for?" You ask, teasing and smug like he'd been the entire week. "Go on pretty girl, call them in." There's no room for argument in your tone, and Graves gulps, his thighs tensing around your head and clenching his teeth.

"Come in!" He says and thinks-hopes- his voice doesn't sound as shaky to the as it does to him. He keeps his focus on the laptop, whole body tense and ears straining to hear his door open and close, mentally following the shadow's movements. "Report." He says.

You choose this time to lightly nibble on his tip, but he manages to clamp his mouth shut and the shadow doesn't notice anything. They prattle on about several things that could have been sent as an email and all the while Graves is stiff as a board trying not to squirm, trying not to show how your hot mouth on his cock is affecting him.

"Are you alright sir?" The shadow asks, bringing attention how flushed he looks. Graves briefly catches your smug gaze as you purposely open your mouth to rest his leaking tip on your tongue, the panties wet with your spit and his precum.

"Peachy," He grinds out, fingers balled into fists in an attempt to keep from squirming when your thumb presses against his hole without penetrating, trying to make him break. "Dismissed." He says sharply.

"But sir-"

"I said dismissed." He growls, hopes and prays his voice doesn't crack, ears burning and refusing to look at the shadow because he's so close, his balls and cock twitching in your hands.

The shadow hesitates, almost leaning closer and Graves nearly flinches, beath catching in his throat; the shadow would only need to take a half-step to see the pink skirt and panties, and just the knowledge of that, of his shadows knowing how much of a whore he is, has more precum leaking from his tip.

"Yes sir," The shadow says and salutes before leaving. The door closes with a resounding 'click' bringing with it heaven and hell.

Graves slumps back into his chair as if he'd run a marathon, his breath of relief broken by a moan when you dig your nails into a bruise on his thighs. "Good girl," Your smooth praise has liquid pleasure flowing in his veins, your nails digging deeper into his bruises feeding his addiction for pain and building a second need for more humiliation. "Did so well for me."

"Doll, please, I need-" He whines, head falling back against the backrest of his chair and a pitiful sound escaping his chest when you pull your lips from his cock. "-please just let me cum, need to cum."

"Oh no, you're not done yet," You're like a devil between his legs, grinning up to him. "You've still got a few hours of work left."

"You're evil," He breathes out, but he's hopeless to submit, leaning in to reach his laptop, groaning when your lips return to his leaking tip, his belly tight with heat that he's desperate to hold off. "Alright, yes, sure-"

"Good girl." You press on his bruises and suck on his tip again, and maybe you'll let him cum in a few hours...

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Ink - Nicholas Ruffilo 18+

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Nicholas Ruffilo x fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Poorly written smut, porn w/o plot, implied needles, tattooing, masochism, kissing, vaginal fingering, not proof read bc i hate myself

The sharp sound of the door chime shot through the air as you pulled the tattoo studio’s door open and walked inside. You had never seen your tattoo artist, but you knew his name was Nicholas. You had followed his tattoo page on instagram for a long time and his work was incredible. You knew you had to get tattooed by him the second you came across his art. You had talked to him through direct messaging about what you wanted and gotten estimates, sketches, and set up an appointment. Finally the day had come. “Hello?” you called out into the empty shop.

A man rounded the corner and your jaw almost dropped. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. His hair was long, dark and silky looking. He was covered in tattoos with splashes of color. He had the most beautiful gray eyes. “Hey!” He greeted, holding a hand out for you to shake. “Welcome in. I’m Nicholas.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself, “It’s great to finally meet you!” You were trying your best to hide your instant attraction to him. His smooth voice combined with his looks and your excitement to get tattooed had your heart racing pounding so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.

He led you to his station and grabbed his sketch pad. Once you sat down, he showed you the sketch that the two of you had agreed upon. “Is this still what we’re doing?”

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, absolutely. It’s perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll just go print the stencil and we’ll get you started.” He then disappeared into the back.

You began to grow slightly nervous as you waited for him to return. You knew your attraction to him was going to be a potential issue. You kind of had a thing for pain. It got you going. It got you worked up. With past artists, it had not been a problem. You weren’t attracted to them. But with Nicholas being the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on, you were in for it.

Before you knew it, he had returned with the stencil. “You still wanted it on your left thigh, correct?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Yes.”

He picked up on your nervousness as he started to prep your skin for the stencil. “Don’t be nervous,” he said softly as he cleaned the skin. “I’m real gentle.”

Your breath hitched. His kindness and his touch ignited a fire inside of you before he even started tattooing. You were fucked. Once the stencil was exactly where you wanted it and he was completely set up, he got started.

“Here we go,” he said as the needle touched your skin.

Your eyes crossed slightly and you almost moaned. Your teeth had a vice grip on your bottom lip to hold in any sounds. As he continued to tattoo you, you began to clench around nothing. You were warm all over. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and a soft moan slipped from your slightly parted lips, causing him to lift the needle and look up. “You okay?”

You nodded as your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mhm,” you hummed, squirming a bit in the chair. “More than okay.”

“You wanna take a break?” he asked, setting his tattoo gun to the side.

“Yea, let me just get some fresh air and I should be good to go,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m never like this.”

“No worries, it happens.”

With that, you stood up and walked outside to breathe, unaware of the telling wet spot you left on his chair. When you came back and sat down again, he stood to change his gloves. You watched as the black latex covered his long fingers and listened to the snap as he released it at his wrist. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

He got started again, but this time when you started to squirm he immediately put down his machine. “I think I know what this is about,” he chuckled.

“Y-You do?” you stammered. If he was really on to you, you couldn’t figure out how.

He nodded, caressing your inner thigh. “I think you’re enjoying this a lot more than you’re letting on.”

Your eyes widened. “Where did you get that idea?” You were trying your best to play it off.

“Hmm, let’s see,” he started. “The moaning, the squirming, the wet spot you left on my chair when you took your break.”

You just stared at him, the flush returning to your face. “Oh,” you murmured sheepishly, gaze shifting to your lap. You had really tried not to make it obvious.

A gloves finger made its way under your chin and tilted your head up so that you were looking at him again. “Do you want some help with that? Maybe if you get it out of your system you’ll stop squirming so much.” When you nodded in response, his grip on your chin tightened. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

You sucked in a deep breath, “Y-Yes…please.”

In a second his lips were on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him impossibly closer, hands carding through his hair. The kiss was sloppy and filled with need; the force of your lips colliding was almost bruising. One of his gloved hands slid down your body before he cupped you through your shorts. The barely there pressure caused you to moan. He took that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and tangle it with yours.

He lifted his hand and wiggled it into your shorts. He ran his fingers through your folds before bringing them to your clit. He began to rub tight, gentle circles into the bundle of nerves. You pulled away and threw your head back with a gasp. He immediately began to suck a mark into your pulse point once he had the access. Your hips began to move on their own accord, grinding up into his fingers to chase the delicious friction. “Please Nicholas,” you whimpered. “I need more.”

You whined as he pulled his hand out of your shorts and backed away from you. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He said as he pulled down your bottoms, leaving your bottom half completely bare. He grabbed your legs and spread them further, groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re soaked,” he teased. “Let’s do something about that.” He slipped two gloved fingered into you.

You moaned loudly and gripped the sides of the chair as he began to pump them in and out. As he picked up the pace, he started to curl his fingers. With each thrust, his fingers hit that spongy spot inside of you, causing your back to arch off of the chair. You started clenching around his fingers. “Oh you’re close, huh?” he murmured. You could only respond with moans and a weak nod. He dipped his head down and sucked your clit into his mouth harshly. The coil snapped and you came hard, nearly convulsing as he helped you ride out your high.

Your breathing was heavy when he finally stopped. When he pulled his fingers out, he smirked at the evidence of your creamy release on the black gloves that still covered his hand. His tongue darted out and he sucked the glove clean before changing into a fresh pair. “Ready to get back to work?”

[spoiledblogif]

So just want to say I’m a big fan of the aggressive option with kestrel.

Partly because I enjoy playing reckless MCs, but mostly because they seemed almost happy you managed?

But not really in a masochistic way, like in a surprised way, like you did the unexpected, and that was exciting for them.

Their excitement also has a hint of like, when you order something you wanted in the mail, but it was kind of cheap so you’re expecting it to be fragile, but then you open the package and it’s like Nokia level indestructible and you feel like you beat the system. Like for once, something isn’t too good to be true.

It feels like they’re almost excited that their current choice in toy has bite to it, but I also feel like it’s a double edged sword because now they know a little better what to expect. A better understanding of what mc is capable of. Like maybe mc gave them more answers by acting than by speaking.

And if not more answers, it feels like they’ll be more alert now. More invested.

And if it weren’t already established that they were an ro, I’d be certain that that’s not necessarily a good thing. (But they are an ro, and as it stands they obviously see you as the mouse to their cat if the nickname is any indication. It was a lot of fun to show them anything can bite so long as it has teeth so to speak)

Just a beginning note: I love this so much. For anyone convinced that they're just going to annoy their favorite writer or artist by sending messages, just know that I love discussing this shit and I love it when you guys examine and take it apart. The only thing I love as much as writing is the chance to talk about it.

Also, yes. To all of it.

The Kestrel would not go into this expecting very much of the MC. Going into it, the MC would be mostly just a fun, but ultimately disposable toy. The MC retaliating (in whatever form) is what Kestrel finds it thrilling---and you're right. It's not out of masochism. It's because their expectations have been subverted.

In one of the routes, the Kestrel explains that the fae as a whole despise "new" things. The Kestrel is an exception to this.

(Edit: Also the discord chat has a whole running gag about the MC being an absolute feral monster as a child, so your idea of a reckless MC is funny to me.)

(Edit Edit: the names "Kestrel" and "Sparrow" were chosen before I learned that kestrels are known to hunt and eat sparrows. It just worked out well.)

[amne-chan]

Hi Amne! Quick question about your patch pre-order, what is the meaning behind 'there's no art in heaven'?

Hi! Ah, I don't think this can be quickly, the phrase originally belongs to Yuri Albert "Ironic quotation" just translated into english, and became popular in small artist's circles in russia after his exhibitions in Moscow museum, i've seen it there at least, at the entrance back than 5-10 years ago a few times, mb it's still there, i don't remember.

It was originally intended to be viral, and due to place has slight post-soviet flavor.

But generally, well, art, regardless of genre, is built from experience, transmitted of hard work and love for something. Experience is a complicated thing, labor here, for being honest, is methodical and progressive cultivation of sado-masochism in oneself to learn how to share your experience for the sake of anything you love to think about.

I tried to make it shortly.

Meaningfully there is nothing really that new, i just also like this phrase, cos it's edgy, has some background and good Ironic quotation!

[senei]

rambling a little but uhhh something i love a lot about slay the princess(besides like literally everything else about it since i'm kind of latched onto it) is how the artwork is loose.

tldr it's a good way of showing that the 'cleanliness' of art isn't necessary, and you really shouldn't worry your head off about that kind of stuff. but the Entire word vomit is underneath

it's sooo sososo common seeing people make huge deals about their art being 'clean'.

the lineart needs to be nice and sharp, the rendering needs to be perfectly butter smooth, et cetera.. especially with the ai stuff going on, for some reason? it kind of varies from different communities/platforms, but it's always there in some form. hard to miss most of the time

i see so many people getting pressed over that kind of involuntary obligation they put on themself—and not to say i don't do that exact same thing at times myself!!! it really upsets me knowing the kind of toll it can take on motivation to actually just. draw whatever the fuck is bouncing in your head like an rpg slime idle.

ik the fact that the sprites weren't entirely polished wasn't on purpose. that it's just because of the sheer amount of them/the lack of emotional masochism needed to do the Entire Process on Each One as a Single Person. but it still means a lot to me.

it shows how the same exact idea can be communicated completely disregarding whether or not those kinds of little details aren't ironed flat.

in like 99% of people who look at something, they just go "ooouuh!....art coole👍 !!!!!!!!". they're not gonna give two shits on wings about stray lines or an underblended shadow or whatever.

or at least that's what i'd like to think. as an artist with ungodly chicken scratch not yet conceivable to man i haven't been told anything.

just do however much you wanna do it's silly little artworks not your holy purpose to which inaction holds eternal suffering as consequence or something

[dearorpheus]

hello, your blog's vibes are absolutely impeccable! I was wondering if you could recommend me some nonfiction reading on eroticism, religion or fear? I'd love to read about any of these topics, but I never really know where to start looking for good theory books or essays, so I usually end up reading fiction instead. any nonfiction recs would be deeply appreciated (and on other topics too if you have particular favorites). have a nice day!

hello! thank you for the kind words♡

hm! some reading might be: - Erotism: Death and Sensuality + Visions of Excess, Bataille - Masochism: Coldness and Cruelty & Venus in Furs, Deleuze - The Sadeian Woman: And the Ideology of Pornography, Angela Carter - Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose, Leigh Cowart - Eros the Bittersweet, Anne Carson - A Lover's Discourse, Roland Barthes - Uses of the Erotic, Audre Lorde - A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller, 1932-1953 - Foucault's Histor[ies] of Sexuality - Being and Nothingness, Sartre - The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson - Aesthetic Sexuality: A Literary History of Sadomasochism, Romana Byrne - Pleasure Principles: An Interview with Carmen Maria Machado - "The Aesthetics of Fear", Joyce Carol Oates - Recreational Terror: Women and the Pleasures of Horror Film Viewing, Isabel Cristina Pinedo - "On Fear", Mary Ruefle - "In Search of Fear", Philippe Petit - Female Masochism in Film: Sexuality, Ethics and Aesthetics, Ruth Mcphee - Powers of Horror, Julia Kristeva - Hélène Cixous' Stigmata (i am thinking esp of "Love of the Wolf") - Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis - anything from Caroline Walker Bynum.... Wonderful Blood, Fragmentation and Redemption, Holy Feast and Holy Fast - excerpts of Letter From a Region in my Mind, James Baldwin - Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Nietzsche (re: Christian morality, death of God) - Waiting for God, Simone Weil - The Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus - Modern Man in Search of a Soul, Carl Jung - "The Genesis of Blame", Anne Enright

do know as well that Lapham's Quarterly has issues dedicated entirely to these subjects you've mentioned: eros, religion, fear ! there's also this wonderful ask from @rotgospels on biblical horror theory

other non-fic i will always rec: - "On Self-Respect", Joan Didion - Illness as Metaphor + Regarding the Pain of Others, Susan Sontag - The Art of Cruelty: A Reckoning, Maggie Nelson - "The Laugh of the Medusa", Hélène Cixous - Ways of Seeing, John Berger - The Faraway Nearby, Rebecca Solnit - The Body in Pain, Elaine Scarry some non-fic things i've read lately: - "Mary Shelley's Obsession with the Cemetery", Bess Lovejoy - "Horror Lives in the Body", Megan Pillow - "The Cruel Myth of the Suffering Artist", Patrick Nathan - "The Rub of Rough Sex", Chelsea G. Summers - "The Lost Art of Memorizing Poetry", Nina Kang - "The problem with English", Mario Saraceni

[naayewolf]

“There There, Kitty” Kokushibo x Muzan Daughter!Reader [Smut]

Summary:

You are Muzan’s Demon Daughter, and he has ordered the top 3 uppermoons To be your personal servants. You decide to turn them into your personal lap dogs. 

*Might make this a whole book with different context*

*Uppermoon/Muzan Jackson’s impressions of y/n

Akaza: Wants to be stronger than her, they spar all the time even though y/n always wins.

Douma: Finds her VERY entertaining. Basically her girlfriend [In the sister sense]

Kokushibo: Follows her EVERY command~

Muzan: Loves her, gives her secondhand control over the top 3 uppermoons as a gift.

TW: 

Dubcon, Dominant reader, size difference, Loss of virginity, abuse of power,  rough riding,, bondage [tentacles daki style],  blowjobs, milking, lipstick play [It’ll make sense] Sado/masochism, bedpress, master/servant[pet] dynamics, degradation

You sit with a makeup brush in your hands, your eyes colorful shades of yellow and pink, your lips are blood red. Your hands work on Douma’s face, spreading blue powder across his cheeks. “Blue really suits your skin tone Douma!” You smile, putting glue on a jewel to place it under his eye. 

He squeals with joy in a high pitch, glad for the compliment. “You're the makeup artist, y/n!” He uses his blood art to make an ice mirror to see himself. He squeals louder than before and hugs the air out of you. “It’s perfect! I wasn’t sure at first, but you truly work magic y/n!” 

You Give him a closed eye smile, opening them again when you catch the aura of your other pets Akaza and ... Kokushibo. 

They both enter the room, Akaza throwing the door open unknowing of your presence. “DOUMA WHERE IS MY- What the actual f u c k ..” His eyes go wide at Douma,  him uncaring of you being here. Kokushibo on the other hand bows to the ground as if you were your Dad.

“Forgive us Master, we were unaware you were- tending to our fellow moon, forgive us for intruding.” He shuts his middle and bottom pair of eyes, looking at you through the top pair. You let out a giggle pulling his head to a sitting position with a tendril from your back. 

“It’s quite fine. Akaza, please refrain from breaking Douma’s door from now on.” he doesn’t bow, only letting out a very unapologetic grumble. Koku gives him a quick glare and he apologizes a bit more believable. You stand motioning for them to move from the door.

“Kokushibo. If you’ll follow me, I have something I need you for.” He lets out an immediate ‘Yes, Master’ before standing to follow you out. The second you two step out Akaza punches through Douma’s head. 

“Akaza dono .. you ruined my makeup ..” He whines while sitting up. The yukata he wears barely covers his crotch, as it’s usually worn for a married couple’s first night together. [Honeymoon lingerie] He pouts bending forward, the cloth covering his groin falling forward almost exposingly “Don’t you think I’m pretty in this?”

Akaza’s pale face turns red from embarrassment. In truth, he’s jealous Douma had this much time with you instead of him. He would’ve spent it training his strength instead of playing dress up though.  Douma goes to lift the cloth covering him. He kicks Douma in the groin.“You Fucking Would!” 

*With Y/n and Kokushibo*

*Koku POV* 

Kokushibo is positively TERRIFIED. He remains stoic as always on the outside, but on the inside he’s screaming with a million questions. What did I do? Where is she taking me? Is she mad? Is she gonna kill me? Is she gonna get THAT MAN to kill me? 

You walk on, arms crossed in front of you, him behind you as a symbol of your superiority towards him. He realizes that you’re nearing your quarters. That brings even more questions.  

*Y/n Pov* 

You’ve liked this pet for a while, and seeing him so obedient at the moment he realized you were there made you feel special. You realize that he’s the type to follow orders without a second thought. The control you had over him made you feel- a certain way. You decided to see just how far he’d go to meet your demands.  

You lead him towards your room, bouncing at the excitement of the game you're about to play. When you get to your door you move aside ushering him in. Kokushibo turns to you again with all six eyes on you in confusion and concern. 

“Master-” He begins, shutting up when your small figure presses against his tall one. “What are you-” A black tendril shoots out your back going through his wrists pinning him to the wall and dripping blood onto the floor mat. 

You shush him, pushing your finger to his lips. “It’s okay, just .. go with it.” He knows he could easily overpower you, or at least push you off, but he’s afraid it’ll anger That Man. With swift roughness you have him against your futon straddling his body. His hands twitch around from the pain. He doesn’t know what else to do but beg, afterall he doesn’t even know what he did. “P-Please Master, stop.”

 You’re dumbfounded for a second before letting out a laugh. “Ah! The little demon is begging .. how cute.” You let out a breathy moan before rolling your hips into him.  He moans lightly which causes you to grin. You move down to line your face up with his crotch. 

He yelps when you kiss him through the cloth, effectively smearing your lipstick. You let out a chuckle lifting up to look him in his eyes. “It’s ok, there there, kitty. Just stay very still.~” You undo his obi making his kimono come loose. You swiftly pull it off of his shoulders. He whines with his hands being unable to cover himself, not that his hands would do any good to cover it. 

You gasp at the size of it. Koku must be half horse or something- It’s about 12 inches with considerable length. You move down, placing a kiss at the base. He stiffens but stays still, not wanting to anger you. If this was you when you were giving mercy, he’d hate to see you withdraw it. 

You trail up and down his length leaving marks of bright red all over his pale cock. You nip at his base before looking up to admire your work. His cock was dripping with precum and he was a mewling mess. You smirk moving down and putting his legs over your shoulders making him gasp. “Looks like l made a mess~” You move in leaving another trace of lipstick on his shaft. You inhale, enjoying the smell of him in such a sinful position. “Let me clean that for you …” You take your tongue and lick from base to tip taking him in your mouth relishing in the taste of his precum. 

You bob your head, closing your eyes to focus on task. He begins to moan out your name repeatedly like a broken record. His groans of protest long since died out, he moans louder than he really should have. “Ah!~ Master .. Y/n please s- ngh .. slow down.” His requests are met with deaf ears, as you only increase your speed. 

His release hits you both hard, as when he feels the blood in his body move to his cock all at once. He thrusts his hips up into your mouth making you take his full length. You gag and soften your throat, relaxing him deeper into your throat. 

You take him out of your mouth with a pop and move up to sit in his lap. You undo your yukata with a quick tug and pull one of his hands through your tendril, ripping his wrist open. You pull his hand up to your breast knowing the injury was nothing to him. “Here, play with them! See? squishy!”  He complies by pinching your nipples reluctantly before circling your breasts in his palms. 

You let out a light moan while lining yourself up with his tip. He panics, all of his eyes widening and trying to move himself away from your dripping sex. “Wait, Master dont!” He did want this, but his length was the size of your arm by itself and he didn’t want to hurt you. You smile, taking your hand up to grip his cheek. You take his moment of distraction to drop yourself onto his full shaft. You cry out and pain shoots through your whole body in the best way.

You use your tendrils to move yourself up and down on his length. He moans even louder than before, surely his colleagues had heard you two by now. He loses control and shoves you against the futon roughly. He becomes feral and bares his fangs pressing you into your sheets. 

He goes at unmatched speed making sure to pound deep into you with each thrust. You moan loud enough for everyone present to hear you, an orgasm hitting you into a heaven like state. He falls back keeping himself inside you. You move up, crashing your lips together. Kokushibo releases his seed deep inside your womb.

You both pant loudly holding each other for the little sanity you both have left. You let out a breathless laugh snuggling into his chest. “I’ll tell you one thing .. W-We are definitely doing that again Kitten.” You kiss his nape moving into him to fall asleep. 

He hugs you back being released from your tendrils. He closes his eyes and plants a kiss on your forehead. “As you wish, Master.”

[marimayscarlett]

Obviously, I'm just speculating, but taking from what Schneider said last year - I don't think the rest of the guys were ever jealous of Till's solo work. Why would they be? Especially after Emigrate. Richard and Till clearly need a bigger let out than Rammstein can provide, and if it doesn't interfere with Rammstein, then why not? But unlike Emigrate, Lindemann went on tour. Garnered negativity that reflected onto the band. And most importantly, unlike Richard, Till got further away from them. He didn't want to and couldn't spend more time with them as individuals and as a band member. He got a new friend group, new entourage, which integrated into Rammstein and put an even bigger wedge between them. Till even stopped flying with them! And that what might've caused resentment caused by fear. Is Till quitting Rammstein? Is he even still our friend?

And Richard had a fight with Zoran before the backstage bj video which btw was tasteless and lowkey offensive to the band and the crew. Mein Teil is a great video but they've made some masterpieces since then. None of which had to involve sado masochism veiling itself as "being misunderstood".

I've nothing against Till doing what he's doing, he has every right to it but I also believe that last years incident should've been a massive eye opener (not the fucking young women part. He made it very clear with his poem that he doesn't care what we think about that) but that if he wants Rammstein to continue, he cannot lead a double life. Richard managed to separate Rammstein-self and Emigrate-self whilst still maintaining both full time. Till completely failed that, clearly deeply hurting 5 other individuals in the process. It was easier for him to do what he wants and ice everyone out. It's better if they took a long, long break than ruin 30+ year relationship with silence.

As for Zoran. He's just bitter. If post Zoran Rammstein videos are Ali Express, then wtf does that make him? Because no one even knew of him before the band and certainly he's not making any headlines post band. His only saving grace was Till but even then, his Lindemann videos aren't even the best ones..

Hi and thank you for the time and effort you put into writing this out 👋

I will work my way through this message and will add some of my own thoughts to it - this will be subjectiv and not everyone has to agree with everything.

It is true that Till and Richard both needed an additional outlet for their creative processes - the difference is that Till treats his solo project like a normal band and likes to go on tour (Richard mentioned this in one interview once that touring is a vital part for Till's creative life), while Richard treats his more like a studio project. Going out, touring with a stage show like his, putting out videos in this very style which is seen as 'typical Till' by now I might say - all this can serve as a target for misunderstanding, resentment, problems in general.

I do sometimes wonder why he takes these risks (after last summer more than ever). I know he as an artist has his own visions and wants them to come to life, which is his right - but I sometimes ask myself if it's worth it. If it's worth it that others have to deal with the problems his work/behavious has caused. But then again: it's none of my business and he has the freedom to do as he pleases.

I used this ask as an impetus to read Schneider's statement again (something which still triggers me a bit and which i haven't done in over half a year), and Schneider writes this: "Till has distanced himself from us in recent years and created his own bubble. With his own people, his own parties, his own projects. That made me sad, definitely." While I never understood this as being criticism towards Till having his musical side project, I do see it as criticism on how he treats it and how he handles things around it - between the lines there is (at least from my point of view) definitely discontent and concern. So I do believe the band doesn't see anything wrong with having side projects (in Richard's case they were even happy and relieved about it), but maybe in the trend of side projects demanding too much attention or developping possible unpleasant characteristics/outgrowths.

One can only hope that the last year really served Till as a wake up call to overthink some structures which gained influence around him.

"It's better if they took a long, long break than ruin 30+ year relationship with silence." I'm honestly not sure about this and I don't know what good a break would do in this case - since seemingly nothing incriminating had happend, there's no reason for a break in this regard, and maybe, just maybe, it's good for the band to work together this year, in their anniversary year, to actually feel close to each other, to reminisce together, something in this regard.

Regarding Zoran: Like I said in the post I reblogged, I find it highly conceited of him to quite literally say that every thing that came after him music video-wise, every art work from another director is inferior to his work in its quality (hence the 'AliExpress' metaphor). If he really means it that way, it's quite laughable to be honest. In my opinion, he is resting too much on his laurels he garnered from 'Mein Teil' - which admittedly had an immense effect and gave us Frau Schneider, and from "saving" 'Mein Herz brennt', but to say that the music videos of 'Deutschland', 'Adieu' or 'Zeit' are below his standards is mind-boggling to me (if I understand his allusion correctly).

Zoran's Lindemann videos are not my taste, and saying he wanted to express lonliness and insatiableness with a porn-video seems hypocritical and sends out 'oh I'm an artist, of course nobody understands me correctly'-pick me vibes. I'm not surprised that a lot of people who respects their own work didn't want to work with someone anymore who made a project like 'Till the end'.

[puppydayy]

About Me (pls read!)

Gen info

I’m 18 (MDNI and age in bio pls!)

I’m a gay trans guy (he him exclusively)

I’m an artist and writer

This is an account for my horny thoughts and art, sometimes I post sub stuff, sometimes dom stuff, sometimes bottom stuff, sometimes top stuff

Single

I’m so emo

Im a massive nerd

Starting T soon hopefully!

I talk a lot of smack for someone that’s still a mega virgin

This is a faceless account!!! Sorry but I really don’t want my face attached to my horny ramblings 😅

I have a side acc for the CoD fandom, @lyraa-kill !

My interests

Reading and literature

Drawing and Painting

Writing

Tattoos

Video games (BoTW, CoDMW, Skyrim, stardew valley, no man’s sky, Omori, Hades, Witcher)

Anime (specifically MHA and dungeon meshi)

Cartoons and animation

Plushies

Space

Twenty One Pilots, Chappell Roan, Olivia Rodrigo, My Chemical Romance

Sanrio

Crystals (shiny pretty rock way not healing energy way)

Hiking and being in nature

Queer history

My kinks

When I’m sub:

Puppy play ♡ Praise ♡ Bondage ♡ Little bit of masochism ♡ Overstim ♡ Edging ♡ spanking ♡ Leashes and collars ♡ Muzzlessss ♡ Daddy kink ♡ TOYSSS ♡ Pregnancy/breeding

When I’m dom:

Puppy Play ✩ Bondage ✩ Degradation ✩ Praise ✩ Dumbification ✩ Objectification ✩ TOYS ✩ Spanking and slapping ✩ Gags ✩ Collars and muzzles ✩ edging ✩ overstim ✩ pregnancy/breeding ✩ daddy kink

There’s others as well but I can’t name them all so this is just the main things I like <3

Things I like to be called

When I’m sub:

Puppy ♡ Baby/ baby boy / sweet boy / good boy ♡ Angel ♡ Sweetheart ♡ Doll

When I’m dom:

My name (Callyx or just Cal) ✩ Daddy ✩ Sir

Things I call my anatomy

Cunt ♡ pussy ♡ cock ♡ dick ♡ tdick

Please don’t refer to my chest at all please and thank you (this will change when I am finally graced by god and get top surgery)

My hard-nos

Degradation when I’m the sub (I can only handle like, very small amounts of it that isn’t THAT degrading. Anything more and I’ll seriously start crying and not in the fun way 😅)

Detrans and misgendering

[cherokeecharles]

#Hottakes #11: White Mediocrity at The Grammy’s Isn’t a Surprise Anymore.

It wouldn’t be award season if we weren’t talking about white mediocrity being rewarded or people being surprised that it was awarded. The never-ending saga of ‘I can’t believe Taylor won over [insert great black artist here]’ is now plaguing my timeline for the time being and what better way to break my silence?

During my writing hiatus, I went on an inspiration scavenger hunt—poking around pop culture, TV, music, and yes, even sports (times are tough, sisters). Yet, nothing sparked that writing flame. Then came the Grammys buzz, the usual drill: nominations, snubs, and the betting game of who should win versus who will win. We all would like to think of ourselves as Grammy psychics to some degree. So, imagine my surprise at the post-Grammys shockwave. Why the gasps for the winners? Why the faux shock when black artists get the snub? And seriously, why keep submitting music if it's playing hide-and-seek with recognition? It's like sending your resume to a job that never calls back—maybe it's time to rethink the application process, huh?

Jay-Z delivered a powerful speech while receiving his honoree Hip Hop award. Rather than talking about his accomplishment he went on to give a rant about his wife, Beyoncé, being the most awarded Grammy winner yet always falling short of her peers of winning the coveted Record of the Year award. The speech was compelling and it reflected what many of us said for years. I would’ve been moved by the speech if I knew they weren’t going to keep submitting their music to be snubbed yearly. The speech reflected all of my thoughts of Beyoncé being categorically snubbed every year for that award that we know is likely missing from her résumé. However, I don’t like the fact that it’s being deemed that she’s missing this one thing from greatness. Beyoncé is great on her own and her career, music, and work ethic back up that claim. I think that it’s unfair that her ‘shortcoming’ amounted to an award where the line is always moving.

The award show progressed, and we’re all left to simmer with Jay-Z's speech about snubbing at the Grammys. The end of the award show comes around, and the last and biggest award is Album of the Year. The album of the year award was presented by the one and only Celine Dion. The Album of the Year award is a coveted award, it’s essentially the album that shaped the year we just went through, and the cultural and social impact of said album are factors into who gets the win, or so I thought. The category for album of the year was groundbreaking on its own because this is the first time it has ever had seven of the eight nominations be women. The category on its own with poised for someone who showed great artistry through one album that spoke to the public, and to the Grammy voters. Imagine the lack of surprise on my face when Taylor Swift won. Taylor Swift’s album Midnights won the most desired award beating out SZA’s SOS, Miley Cyrus’ Endless Summer, Janelle Monae’s Age of Pleasure, etc. This Album of the Year award made Taylor Swift the most winningest recipient of the award receiving the most nominations and win in this category.

The aftermath was a storm of criticism that hit Taylor Swift like a hurricane. From her award-acceptance antics to dropping her album bombshell mid-show and dragging poor Lana Del Rey on stage, Swift's behavior was undeniably tacky. But let's not kid ourselves—the uproar wasn't just about her manners. It was the fact that she clinched the Grammys' holy grail, becoming the all-time winningest. Viewers collectively winced, wondering why Taylor got the crown instead of, say, SZA. We act shocked, but really, we've read the exposés, pondered the think pieces, and still tune in annually. Artists keep submitting, black artists keep getting snubbed. If Taylor's the poster child for white mediocrity, why do we willingly sign up for this annual masochism? It's like déjà vu with a side of irony.

I'm not exactly Taylor Swift's number-one fan (and never will be), and I join the chorus of critics giving her the side-eye. But what grinds my gears is the phony shock everyone's putting on. Sure, there are more deserving artists out there, and it's downright ludicrous that a powerhouse like Beyoncé hasn't snagged the top prize. Yet, when does the surprise party end? We've witnessed Grammys snubs so brutal they make 2024 look like a tea party. That's why Jay-Z's speech didn't move my needle. Valid points, definitely, but let's be real, you're still cashing in those Grammy chips and probably gonna play again. Our beloved artists secretly crave that Recording Academy nod and that's why they keep tossing their tunes into the Grammy ring. It's like a messed-up lottery where, once in a blue moon, an artist (looking at you, Zayn and The Weeknd) says, "Enough is enough!" If it's a rigged game, why keep rolling the dice? If you know the ending, why splurge on the movie ticket?

The Grammys will persist as the top accolade artists crave for artistic validation. However, it's crucial to grasp that Grammy wins don't make or break careers. Complaining without a push for change is futile. The Grammys will keep snubbing until artists stop submitting. Despite acknowledging the celebration of mediocrity, there's a glaring lack of transformative action. Perhaps, giving Grammys less power than fans and artists do is key. Even Beyoncé, the greatest artist, faces snubs. Does she need another Grammy to prove her greatness? No, because she already is. Embracing this mindset could make music more enjoyable, sans the Grammy obsession.

What do you guys think? Do you think artist should continue to submit their music to the Grammys? Do you think the Grammys are losing their credibility every year go on? What can the Grammys do to gain back the credibility?

Let me know what you think!

Until then…

Cherokee🤎✨