#cw afab reader

[catcze]

wriothesley a thighs, boobs or ass kinda guy?

16+ !! Suggestive content !!

「 CWS : 」 The mention of 'boobs' / 'tits' implies an afab! reader, but no pronouns were used / nothing is explicitly mentioned !! Reader is also mentioned to occasionally wear a skirt. Suggestiveness, but nothing super duper explicit happens.

Just wanted to preface that imo no matter how much cake you've got, Wriothesley is the one with the bakery in the relationship. No questions about it.

Anyway. In my own opinion, I think Wriothesley is a thighs guy more than anything. Sure, he can appreciate an ass or a pair of tits just fine, but there's just something about thighs that gets this guy no thoughts head empty, you know? It doesn't matter what kind of thighs you got, either— skinny thighs, thick thighs, and any other kinds of thighs in between. He love all of them. He'll use your thighs as a pillow when he gets tired, resting his head on them and burying his face into your belly to sleep, enjoying the stroke of your hand as it runs through his hair.

Wriothesley enjoys being able to just grab a handful of your flesh and knead it like a stress ball. And the way you gasp when he does it? Icing on the cake. He particularly likes it when you wear short shorts or if you feel like wearing a skirt— it gives him free access to sit you on his lap and squish your thighs as he parses through documents. Lets him feel you squirm on his lap and clench your thighs.

And when he peppers kisses all over your body, over your face, your chest, your tummy, he sometimes gets so carried away with it that his hands grip your thighs so tightly that you squeak. He takes extra time on them then, like as a means of apology for being so rough on his sweetheart. He presses long, drawn out kisses to the insides and to the outsides, rubbing gentle circles on your skin with his thumb as he does so. If you have scars, stretch marks or any other kinds of markings on your thighs? He makes absolutely sure to shower those in love.

And oh, if you're ticklish? If you giggle a little while Wriothesley's caught up in worshipping your thighs? He feels himself melt right then and there.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

So hybrid bulls and cows are actually separate species in MY fantasy world, not male and female.

So you work on a farm specializing in male cows and bulls, the only woman that’s allowed there due to… how the hybrids behave around any females.

You milk them… but not in the normal way. As the only woman on the farm, you’re the only one they’ll allow to milk their cocks. They produce a special semen that’s a milk alternative, and very yummy!

The cow’s are fine enough, following you around and nuzzling into you, wanting cuddles and extra attention when you’re milking them… they behave so well, blushing and mooing softly, gently moving their hips against your hand as you milk their cocks dry.

The bulls however… are a different story. They’re very territorial and protective over the cow hybrids, who they’ve formed a friendship with. They don’t like most people, and tend to be loners that only come around when it’s milking time.

But your pay is upgraded when the farm owners notice that the bulls have started warming up to you, even starting to treat you like a heifer, keeping you safe and guarding you from the other employees.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone but you when the bulls started being a bit… too handsy with you. They viewed you as a heifer now… but you were so small compared to any female cow they’d ever seen. A runt, stunted, maybe…

But you had that chubby tummy and plush hips, those plump breasts that would look so pretty full of milk…

Within a month of starting work, you find yourself being bent over by one of the bulls, the cows mooing in distress and trying to comfort you as a fat cock enters your cunt.

“D-don’t be rough with her! She’s little!” one of the cows protests, stroking your hair and cooing softly to you. The bull huffs, hot air hitting the back of your neck as he fucks into you.

“Being as gentle as possible… little thing, couldn’t take me being rough even if I wanted to be…”

Your cunt was stuffed full with cum, several bulls mounting you until you were a blubbering mess. Once the bulls were done, you were surrounded by cows, getting kisses and snuggles… but they wanted to mate as well…

They pressed down on your belly, cum pooling between your legs as they cooed and gently fucked their own seed into you. By the end of the work day, you were spent, curled up in the hay with several cow hybrids as the bulls guarded the door.

You were payed handsomely for your efforts, and offered an even bigger paycheck to let them mount you at least once a week to let out their sexual frustrations.

They became more territorial around you, but when you weren’t in the picture, the bulls were much calmer and didn’t attack anyone that brought out food or came to give them check ups.

And when you became pregnant… well… let’s just say you were tucked away in the barn, living there with the cows and bulls as your belly grew heavy and swollen.

The cows tended to you, making sure you received all the human comforts you wanted along with their endless affections, and the bulls kept you safe.

———————

A/N: omg… ask me more about this concept because… I’m in love

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @chubbumblebee @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden

[tojisun]

[head in my hands] i think that older bf! simon gets off at how dependent you are on him. that every waking hour, you seek him out. it makes him thrum with something sinister; his heart heady with something dark.

you don't even notice—that's the best thing.

it was just natural for you to come to him, curling to his side like being beside him alone gives you the courage you need or grants you the peace of your mind.

he pushes your hair away from your face and you turn to him with a shy little smile, cheeks round and lips twitching. you don't ask him but he gives it to you anyway—a kiss on your forehead, because you're his precious love.

so good for him. so needy.

simon adores it. he adores the way you can't live without him; how you've made it so you two would be inseparable. he is your rock, you are his lifeline. sure, you don't know just how deep his greed runs—murky waters, blood dripping from the corners of his lips—but it's not like you had to know, anyway.

all you had to do was to stay close, for him to spoil and cherish. for him to love.

"y'need me so much, don't you doll?" simon asks, crooned words pressed on your fever-hot skin. "can't think without me. can't live without me. such a darlin', y'are."

you keen, breathless, unable to speak past warbled gasps. you feel the slow stretch of his cock as you rise, the glide torturous, hitting every of your sensitive spots, before you sink back down again, stuffed whole, his cockhead breaching into depths you never knew was even possible.

too mu'—!

simon's hands move, jostling you from where you are on his lap. they hook on your waist, dimpling your skin as they sink into your fat. it makes him groan, seeing how full you are against him. how full you are of him. seeing your softness, your tenderness, immortalized in his hold like this—weeping, leaking, cunt gushing—makes him whimper, mind splintering at the overwhelming pleasure.

not enough. s'not enough.

(simon doesn't realize how needy he is of you too.)

[iwriteyanderes2023]

Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)

Divider credits: @/anitalenia

Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female

(8941 words)

You regretted agreeing to this.

Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.

They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.

You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.

Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.

You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.

You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.

Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!

Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.

"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.

"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"

"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.

"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"

"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"

You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.

The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.

"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.

"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.

"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.

"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.

But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.

You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.

There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!

She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.

The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.

You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.

She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.

Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."

You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.

You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-

"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"

A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.

You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.

He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.

"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"

"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.

"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.

Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.

You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.

"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."

Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?

You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.

"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."

Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.

"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.

You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.

"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."

You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.

"Duh." She bobbed her head.

There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.

"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.

You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.

"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.

You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.

"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.

You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.

You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.

"Heyy..."

You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"

"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.

You asked if that was really necessary.

"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.

All you could do was nod meekly.

Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.

"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.

You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.

You asked what you should call her instead.

"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."

You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.

You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.

"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."

You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.

She shook her head defiantly.

"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."

You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.

A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.

"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.

"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."

You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.

"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.

You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.

You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.

Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.

You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.

You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.

The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.

When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.

You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.

She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.

The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.

In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.

You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.

It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.

"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"

The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.

"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"

"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"

"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"

"Really!? The rapper!?"

You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.

Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.

Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.

You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.

Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.

"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.

You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.

"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.

Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.

You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.

It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.

"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."

You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.

So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.

It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.

"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.

You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.

"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."

You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.

For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.

It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.

You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.

It's getting late, you should leave.

So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.

She frowned. "Boo. Boring."

You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.

"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.

You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.

"They don't close til 10."

Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.

She stuck her tongue out at you.

"Fine. But I'm driving you home."

You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.

"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.

Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.

The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.

It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.

It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.

Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.

"Stop working letz go shopping"

"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"

"nerd :-P"

"im boreddddddddddddd"

"go clubbing with moiiii"

"letzzz goooo"

"stop ignoring me :-("

These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.

But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.

You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.

"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.

In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.

Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.

A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.

"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"

You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.

"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."

You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.

For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.

All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.

She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.

It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.

It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.

Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.

You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.

You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...

"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.

She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:

"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!

"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.

"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.

She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.

But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.

You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?

"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.

"I didn't like my order."

You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.

"They didn't make it right!"

You asked her what made her think they made yours right.

"They just do!"

You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?

She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.

You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.

This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.

But she chose and bought you these clothes...?

You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.

"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.

You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.

"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.

Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.

"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."

Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.

Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.

You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.

Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.

"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.

You said you can't. You have work to do.

"Says who?"

You said your boss.

"Who's your boss?"

For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.

But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.

"Tell her!" She demanded.

"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."

Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.

"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.

You looked at her. How could she just do that?

"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.

It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.

It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?

It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.

It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.

But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.

So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.

And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.

Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.

You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.

You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.

It didn't last long, though.

There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.

Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.

The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.

Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.

She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.

However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.

"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.

You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!

You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?

The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.

"You."

Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.

You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"

This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.

You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.

"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.

"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"

You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.

"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.

You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.

She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.

You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?

You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.

You regretted agreeing to come to the city.

She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.

Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.

She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.

Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.

But now...

"Sit."

You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.

Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.

"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.

You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.

She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.

"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!

You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.

"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.

You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.

"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.

"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.

You nodded and let out a muffled yell.

"Roll over."

You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.

"Play dead."

You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.

"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.

You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.

"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.

"Open your legs."

She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.

"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.

You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.

You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.

Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.

Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.

[bwabys-scenarios]

You joke to Yandere!Kurapika that it seems like he just wants to keep you barefoot and pregnant so you can’t run away.

He rolls his eyes, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. “I would never let you roam around with bare feet. There could be broken glass, rusty nails, or germs on the ground. It doesn’t seem responsible.”

Kurapika placed a protective hand over your pregnant belly, sighing softly.

“Besides, if I wanted to keep you from leaving…”

One of his nen chains wrapped around your wrists, quickly pulling them together.

“I could just chain you up.”

[yanderestarangel]

Hear me out—

Dad body Miguel.

TW: SMUT, UNPROTECTED SEX, DIRTY THOUGHTS, CHUBBY/DAD BODY MIGUEL, FTM READER, BRAIN ROT,DILF,PRAISE.

art credits:_Insomniac_RED_ on twitter ( X )

Thinking about DAD BODY MIGUEL makes me feel feral, his voluptuous and soft belly along with some muscles covered by the softness of his skin. He could really walk around shirtless, with some stretch marks on his belly, arms and back from time to time and some hairs could be seen in the middle of his belly matching the scruffy beard on his face. He is a peaceful man towards you and bad tempered towards others.

── Maybe he's your DILF neighbor, tired single dad, obsessed with you.

You can feel his soft belly hitting your ass with every thrust he gives you as he fucks you doggy style, the happy path of hair leading up to his thick, slender cock tickled your sensitive skin while the fat tip of his cock kissed your cervix ─ his scruffy beard rubbed against your skin as he pulled your hair and gave you a clumsy kiss each of his scars glowed from the sweat on his body; you could see the growing gray hair on his arms, chest and even the hair on his head.

He would just shower soft praise on you as he slid his dick with minimal force, turning you to look directly into his eyes. "Eres tan bueno conmigo... apretándome tan fuerte. Keep it up pretty boy, I want to make you squirt for me."

You feel his hot cum leak from his tip as the friction of his soft skin touches yours with each movement ── Miguel uses his thick fingers to stimulate your clit even more, watching you squirt on his belly and dick, making him laugh and look at you satisfied and tired.

"Can you give your old man a break here? I really promise to fill you up later..."

[blughxreader]

Soft yandere Miguel O’Hara

cw: noncon, breeding, kidnapping, m masturbation, biting, SPOILERS. Headcanons and drabble. 1.4k words.

Mean dom Miguel is so hot, but I find that soft yan Miguel has so much overlap with canon.

This man still does all the sick and deplorable things a villain does, but in a way that's strangely tender.

I mean, you simultaneously have to be a sweet man and a stone-cold motherfucker to step in the shoes of your dead counterpart and con his family into thinking everything is fine. Like, he (eventually) fucked a dead man's wife, adopted his child, and seamlessly integrated into his shoes.

While certainly calloused, it also reveals a profound desperation for love and a willingness to do anything for it.

Enter you: a Spider from a random dimension that got caught up in an anomaly's destruction. Maybe your world was destroyed or it's emotionally difficult for you to return, so you end up spending a lot of time at HQ.

Miguel doesn't notice you for a while. There's hundreds of Spiders milling about the base, so it's only until you befriend Peter B and his baby that you get acquainted.

You draw him in without trying, no matter the walls that Miguel puts up. He needs to focus—everyone's very existence is at stake, dammit,—but by month five, you're the only thing he can think about.

His advances start off slow, bogged down by his own exasperation at himself. You're ordered to give in-person de-briefs in Miguel's office and get invited to lunch with him and Peter B, giving you the impression of an upcoming promotion. Miguel is as poised as ever, not letting a single stray emotion color his expression, and talks to you in an aloof, polite manner.

However uninterested he might seem, his insides tighten and flutter at your growing friendship. Every time you smile or secretly share a bemused look, he sinks deeper and deeper in his desire to have you.

Proximity-wise, Miguel vacillates between sitting next to you, close enough for your elbows to brush, and standing 30 feet away on his podium for the next week.

His involuntary, physical reactions startle him, and it becomes another contention he internally wars about. The second he thinks it's harmless to brush against you, it divulges into grabbing—cupping—pinning—fucking—ruining.

God, he fucking loathes the powerless feeling you inflict on him, but he doesn't have the strength to put an end to your friendship. He furiously jerks off after every meeting, biting into his hand to punish himself as he comes to the thought of you swollen with his child.

He thinks of all the deplorable ways to make you pay for causing these feelings, but he ultimately knows the blame lies within him. You see him as a boss and friend, nothing more. You would never intentionally drag him down to this state, so he bottles up all these feelings for your protection.

It takes a particularly bad mission for his control to break.

Whatever reservations he had about locking you in his bedroom evaporate when he sees you covered in blood and rubble. Protecting you from himself was one thing, but the thousands of universes?

You didn't realize what happened until you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, weary from pain medication.

He takes your fear, anger, and tears in stride.

While he can't shake his bitchy personality, his annoyance always fizzles out to mumbles and sighs. For months, he takes your verbal abuse and outbursts with resigned acceptance. Miguel didn't always like what he had to do, but he would commit any atrocity if it meant keeping you at his side.

He moves some of his work at home to spend more time with you, just content to occupy the same room while you adjusted to your new situation.

Your shared apartment is quiet most days, save for sporadic outbursts of rage from you, and Miguel daydreams about having a few little kids running around to fill the void.

He stares at you most evenings, watching you curled up on the couch pointedly ignoring him. Miguel thinks you wouldn't be so belligerent if you needed him for something, if you craved his presence and help in some way.

Miguel's mind always drifts back to his favorite fantasies on nights like these: you nine months pregnant and too big for anything other than his shirts. His eyes drift down to your stomach, to the place where you could make his dreams come true.

Patience is something Miguel prides himself on, which is why he puts up with the loneliness for nearly a year after bringing you home. You were given ample time to warm up to him and he's been nothing but kind. Every broken plate and spoiled food, every scratch across his face, every insult—he let you have your way in hopes that you'll eventually recognize him as your lover.

But no. You complained and struggled every step of the way.

Miguel could never hurt you, but he realized that more permanent and assertive measures had to be taken to make you see that you need and love him as much as he does you.

---

When he finally takes you, there's hardly any space between your bodies. There are months of touch starvation to make up for and Miguel is compensating all at once.

His entire 6'9" stature pins you to his bed, locking you between arms as large as your thighs. Miguel is the only thing you see or feel, as his hands caress every dip and curve of your body and his cock grinds against your slit.

With your legs helplessly hiked up around his waist and one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, he makes love to you with a slow burning intensity.

Your fear and disgust are palpable, but between his sweet voice in your ear and his fingers somehow knowing the rhythm and speed to play with your clit, you're more wet than you've ever been.

"Shh, shh, mi cornazón. I have you." Miguel kisses your jaw, his cock rocking in and out of your aching heat with an agonizingly slow pace. "Just breathe steadily and let me take care of you."

He's too big inside of you, and your grunts of pain make him linger in place to help you adjust. When his stride picks up and the wet sounds of sex fill the bedroom, disgust roils in your stomach. Yet fuck, fuck, fuck, your body temperature rises with each stroke.

Miguel kisses you deeply, using his free hand to hold your head in place. He says, "It's time. I've been so patient. Be brave for me and take our baby."

He swallows your horrified pleading with another scorching kiss.

Your pussy clenches around his dick and your breath catches in your throat. Miguel hugs you tighter, his nose pressed into your hair as he angles himself just right. When the first waves of your orgasm make your head dip back, the sharp edge of fangs scratch your neck.

You barely register his mantra of, "Te amo," when his jaw clamps down on your shoulder. Blood spurts from between his teeth, and you cry out in confused pain as your orgasm shakes your body.

Miguel moans into your flesh seconds later, pumping his cum deep inside you. His thrusting is uncoordinated and rough, too blinded by pleasure to notice how powerful his pounding is. The mattress springs whine beneath you two, and you can only cry from the overwhelming treatment.

He milks every last drop of cum into your cunt before he begins to slow. Both of you gasp for breath, your chests heaving against one another's as sweat cools on your hot skin.

He keeps you plugged up for a while longer to give the conception time. His bloodied lips drag across the wound on your shoulder, peppering you with kisses as he trails red along your neck.

A sob shutters in your chest as Miguel runs a palm along your stomach.

"You'll understand soon. I promise. This will be the best thing that's ever happened to us."

[angelatsumu]

secrecy. [j. price]

in which captain price denies his love for you publicly, and that doesn't go over well.

cw: angst (a tiny bit...like it's a little hurtful), SMUT, minors kick rocks DNI, price called daddy but is very switch/sub here, knife play, afab!reader, sorta toxic behavior (don't deny your spouse for a bit of approval with your friends bro), blood play a tiny bit, riding, overstimulation, not proofread

“there’s simply nothing worth settling down for lads. end of discussion.” your teeth met the inside of your cheek to stave off the grimace that fought to surface. your lover, the man you called your husband, had the audacity to allow such foolishly indignant words slip from his liquor laced tongue. the gall of the man who’d insisted you make him the happiest man on earth, the one who’d spent hours practicing his speech in the mirror, was something you’d found quite unexpected. to allow such insanity slip from those precious lips you kissed every morning was far more than an insult to your heart; it broke your pride. you’d pridefully and proudly called yourself the captain’s wife, head held higher than it had been before the silly ring on your finger. it was one thing to keep your marriage a secret—that you two had agreed upon—but to admonish your place in his heart? that was unmistakably cruel. your eyes met your lover’s as the men seemed to light-up at his words, applauding him for his dedication to the taskforce and military business. the display only made you want to revolt even more.

the drive home was quiet. normally you’d pretend to be a bit too drunk so that price could pretend to chivalrously take you to your apartment, but tonight you felt no need for such a foolish charade. there was simply no scent for your fellow task force members to follow because john had snuffed out that flame with his foolish banter. you sat bitterly brewing in your misery, flames of wicked jealousy licking at your heels with each passing moment. john could feel it radiating from you, the air too thick for him to swallow as he pridefully refused to concede and beg for forgiveness. the sheer thought of your husband standing by his bravado-littered statements covered you in a figurative sheen of vengeance. you were desperate for the opportunity to right him, to make him eat every little word he’d muttered. you had half the mind roll out of the moving car right this moment, but you decided against such reckless antics. instead, you’d decided to kickstart his own descent into delirium. there was nothing more tantalizing to your husband than making love to you, and perhaps that is where your edge lied.

the sight below you was gloriously sinful. your lover with flushed cheeks and tear-speckled eyes, precious blade of your combat knife nestled just beneath his jaw. your hand could slip and it would bring scarlet red droplets to the surface, giving him a closer shave than he’d bargained for. he knew this, and the thought made his cock stir inside your velvety walls. with each teasing roll of your hips a whimper fled john’s lips, soft pleas for your mercy. his eyes glistened at you as though you hung the stars, just as they were designed to. pressing the knife’s blade ever-so-lightly, you lifted your hips high enough that only the tip remained encased in your plush cunt. the action causes your husband’s brows to knit together as you hover there with the cruelest scowl you can manage. “please, love. ‘m sorry, daddy’s sorry,” he all but whimpers, hips stirring before halting at the feel liquid running down the side of his neck. you scoff at him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer to the object of your affection. your lips hover above his, breath fanning over his skin. “yeah? daddy’s sorry, hm?” he nods eagerly, knicking himself again in dumb desire to please you. you dip your head into the crook of his neck, deft tongue licking a stripe along the path of the stray droplet of blood. the action of ownership leaves your husband dizzy as an uncontrolled whimper leaves his lips. you hum, wicked grin pulling at your lips as you plop yourself down onto him. the fat of your ass claps against his thighs, and your head falls back at the feeling of being so full. you groan, rolling your hips forward just enough to catch your clit on the ridge of his pelvis. john’s hands instinctively move to clutch your hips, and you tut at him amusedly.

your cunt was driving john to insanity, and you weren’t too far behind him. the pace you’d set was increasingly tiring, but your abdomen continued to be set aflame with carnal desire. the clap of your ass against your husband’s lap resounded through the room as you fucked yourself—and him—stupid on his girthy length. orgasm after orgasm had rushed over the two of you, yet your desire for more never wavered. your grip on your beloved knife had since loosened enough that there was no true threat, though the thrill remained. your husband was beautifully fucked beneath you, lip quivering as his eyes struggled to stay open. your tight heat felt torturous, the sensation of your walls griping him like a vice bringing him to tears. your eyes intently glared down at your man, as much as you could while being fucked open. “can’t take anymore, love,” your husband whimpers, hands gripping your hips harshly as he weakly attempted to slow your movements. you huffed at him, hand moving to grip his jaw and force his gaze to yours. your gaze made his cock stir inside your plushy cunt. “you can take it,” you spat at him, squeezing his jaw at the hinges to force his mouth open. without thought you spat into your lover’s mouth, riding him with more tenacity as you felt your high approaching. “oh fuck,” he whined, head falling back from your gasp as you milked him for his last orgasm of the night. “you look at me when I fucking cum, and you remember who you settled down with, john,” you scold him, tugging on his dog tags to force him to meet your view again. the sight before you was picture worthy, pitiful fucked out captain gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky; to him, you did. your orgasm swept you in a vicious wave of euphoria, thighs trembling as you moaned softly over your lover. the cant of your hips slows as you ride out your high, sweat-coated body leaning to press flush against his. john sighs, arms wrapping around you as he babbles apologies into your chest and neck. “never mean’ it, never say it again” he babbles softly, and you’re certain some of his brain oozed out from his ears with how thoroughly you’ve fucked him. with a sigh you untangle yourself from him, peering softly into his beautiful eyes before leaning to pepper kisses along his face. “i love you, John. thank you for letting me have this,” you hum softly. truly he could’ve called off the whole encounter, but he allowed you this relief. oh, what a lover you have.

likes + coments + rbs always appreciated <3 thx

[sweetsuo]

as per usual, I wrote WAY MORE than was necessary cries. Sakura may be a bit ooc but i was trying to be consistent with the concept of him getting used to affection over time ;v; also color coded speech bc i wanted to try it out

𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲

Suo Hayato x Sakura Haruka x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! For the love of all that is mighty do not take this as actual psychological advice or a viable treatment for you! More of this disclaimer and information is after the fic.

cw. exposure therapy. systematic desensitization. cucking. fingering. edging. masturbation. use of 'she/her'. praise. pussy smacking. friendly competition. hair pulling. Genre & Syn. [ SMUT! ] Your boyfriend Sakura has always been shy and easily embaressed. You help the best you can until you're at the very last rungs of the desensitization ladder. Your bashful boyfriend offers that Suo help with the last demonstrations. wc. 7.2k thank you to zevie, dahlie, and adele who all beta'd this bitch for me!!!

Sakura’s sense of responsibility was always something you admired. He’d always been a natural leader, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He’d come a long way in Furin since he first arrived as a teen, and now even lead municipal patrol programs on his own while Umemiya handled teaching the next generation at the reform school. You had a crush on him ever since you met him as a server at Kotoha’s cafe. So after a long road to romance, you both finally got together once you were in your twenties. There was just one problem with your devoted boyfriend. 

Sakura always had such a volatile reaction to intimacy. Holding your hand and giving compliments were few and far between simply because he’d blow up red whenever he even attempted to. You thought it was charming, but it is impossible not to have some sort of strain on the relationship in a circumstance like this. You want cuddles! Affection! You know Sakura has the potential to give it and that he desperately does. He just needs a little help. So you research exposure therapy and come across something called ‘systematic desensitization’. Your boyfriend agreed to this without a second thought. He’d do anything for you and he knew he had to grow past his aversion to affection. 

After work, you talk with Sakura about intimacy and ask him if he’d be comfortable trying this out. You just wanted to try it out casually as Sakura was never afraid of intimacy, just uncomfortable by it. So first you both practice meditation and breathing techniques to calm down his heart and head. 

Then you compile a list of exposures. Thinking about intimacy, watching intimacy, engaging in intimacy. You ask about different types of intimacy to see which ones he is most comfortable with to least comfortable with. You set a strict rule with him that you both are to not engage in intimate acts until everything was done and good with. It’s hard to keep. You don’t compliment one another nor do you touch. Luckily, holding hands and minor touches like on the back or arm he is perfectly fine with at this point so that was alright to engage with. It was a trial in your will power!

After about two months, you got through most of the list without a hitch step by step. Anytime Sakura was uncomfortable, he’d breathe deeply and slowly and try to focus on sounds around him as opposed to his internal dialogue. Pride overwhelmed you when he could engage in those acts with you without panicking! It also was a cute little game to see at what points he started to breathe slow to calm down. It added to his charms. 

It wasn’t until you got to things like kissing that you hit a bump in the road. You separated witnessing acts versus engaging in them versus seeing them through a screen. PDA like kissing is not super common out in public unlike holding hands, complimenting someone, or just being appreciative of someone. That’s when Sakura offered something unusual. 

In a mutter, the calico asked, “Why not ask Suo?” He shifted on your couch, arm draped over your shoulder and leg crossed. 

“Huh?”

“Don’t make me say it twice! Just. Text’im or somethin’...” His cheeks were red and you could tell he was focusing on his breathing by the rise and fall of his chest. The thought of you kissing his friend riled him up in a way he didn’t expect. He wasn’t anxious or uncomfortable by it. It was late so you weren’t even sure if Suo would be up. Then again, the martial artist did seem to have an odd sleep schedule. 

“Think he’s still at work?” You asked aloud, not really expecting an answer. It was about 11:00 at night now as you sent the first message.

“Nah. Pretty sure he gets done at 8.” Sakura tilted his head back, emptying his mind and counting the sounds in your apartment. His chest fizzed and bubbled. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt different from when he’d see PDA in the past. He retracted inside his mind, searching for where he recognized this pop-rock sensation. He already could tell he’d felt it before as you both moved through the ladders of exposure. Usually by the time he’d grown accustomed to something, he thought about you in that very act. That’s typically when the hot pink crackling began. 

That’s when it hit him. 

Porn.

Because romance movies had such an onslaught of different displays of affection, you had to go through multiple rungs at the same time. Once you could watch some cheesy chick flicks together, you had offered to watch porn. It wasn’t awkward because it was you. And of course, the first few times Sakura had to stop to take a walk. The lewd moans from your laptop being a bit too much for him to handle at first. Eventually he could sit through an entire clip with self-soothing techniques. He’d realized then that he’d be doing this with you. To you. The thought of touching your bare skin was tantalizing. And his chest bubbled all in the same way when he thought about you kissing Suo. 

Sakura let out a slow breath. 

“Oh! He responded!” You jolt, curling over your screen. Sakura peered over you, attempting to read upside down. The light of your phone illuminated your pretty cheeks in the dark of the living room. Even with the TV flickering colors, Sakura could see the tinge of pink. 

“What’d he say?” 

“Well, I gave him my address and he said he’d be right over...” Your voice trembled and your lips rolled together. 

The calico leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His cheeks flushed at the act, but he’d grown somewhat accustomed to physical touch enough for him not to freak. “You don’t have to... ya know –“ He cleared his throat, “do any of that if you don’t want. Jus’ figured it’d be easier.” His voice is low and soft despite that obvious falter at the mention of an act. Sakura had always been such a sweet boyfriend. He cared more about you than he could even say. He wouldn’t have ever agreed to your little experimental scheme if he didn’t want to do better for you in the first place! So if anything made you uncomfortable, he’d be sure to fix it. Even if that meant sucker punching Suo. 

“No, no. Ah. I don’t know how to explain this,” You chuckled awkwardly, “But w-would it be bad to say it’s a turn on?” 

“A what?” 

Oh he was dumbfounded. Gob-smacked, even. 

You dropped your phone in your lap and pressed pretty digits against your warm cheeks, “You know in that one porn we saw with the girl who had the-“

“The flower on her h-hip?” Sakura completed your sentence, hand now coming up to his neck. 

“YEAH! How’d you know?!” You leaned into him, “I can’t believe you paid attention to that! I mean I can because you’re trying so hard!”

He flushed, searching for words amidst your excitement only to stutter, “I-it was hot.” 

The porn in question was a woman cucking her partner with another guy. It was a random video you clicked on at the time, but you were sucked in. It was hard to ignore the growing sensation between your legs when you watched. You were so enamored that you completely missed the hard-on your boyfriend sported while watching. Or that he masturbated to the sounds of your moans while you showered shortly after. 

“Do you think Suo would-“ You trailed off, considering the comfort of your boyfriend and his progress with sensitization. 

“He would,” Sakura muttered again, “Don’ worry ‘bout it.” He averted his eyes, sucked in air, then let it out in a stream, “We can ask. I’m good with it.” His romance detector might be over-reactive, but it almost was never wrong. He knew Suo had a thing for you from the way Suo teased you. Once in a while you’d take one of Suo’s MMA classes and he’d tease you about your form. Or sometimes the three of you would take Jou’s judo class. It was hard to miss the way Suo looked at you when you were pinned under him. It never quite irritated Sakura because he knew you were his and he’s known Suo was a good guy since high school. Plus, he actually didn’t mind watching someone more skilled than himself handling you in ways he didn’t know how to yet. Since then, Sakura knew he could spar a little more roughly with you. 

There was a knock at the door. You hopped up and down the hall to greet your guest. 

Sakura shifted his posture to sit upright, head tilted down, and hands folded at his lap. He breathed in and out. In. and out. He wasn’t nervous, surprisingly. He was excited. His body twitched at the chit-chat approached the hall. He didn’t think about the words, just took note of the sounds around him. Calm. Nothin’ to be nervous about. When weight shifted on the couch, he opened his eyes to Suo politely sat a cushion away. 

“You called a good teacher, Sakura.” Suo grinned, “Education is the best way to grow beyond nervousness~. We’re kissing, correct?”

You and Sakura sported matching blushes. You part your lips to answer. Sakura beats you to the punch, “The whole th-thing. If you want.” His brows are furrowed and his eyes shone with conviction you hadn’t quite seen yet.

Suo’s lips formed an ‘0’ before they settled into a wide grin, “You want to be cucked? That’s surprising!” There was no judgement in the words, simply a question. A teasing question, but still just a question. 

“Jus’ show me what to do,” Sakura whipped his head to the side in an attempt to hide the raging red raising to his ears. He pouted. Can’t deny something that’s true, though. Can’t deny the way his body reacted, either, with his jeans growing ever so slightly tighter. 

Meanwhile, you glanced between the two, sucking at your bottom lip nervously. You stood between them, fiddling the hem of Sakura’s T-shirt. It was big on you. Big enough to reach mid-thigh. It was thin as well. The fabric loosely folding at the pique of your nipples. Everything felt bare and real. Their exchange, this situation, it all was tangible now. Your own inexperience and insecurities had been helped as a byproduct of helping Sakura. You mimicked his steady, meditative techniques. 

“Are you comfortable with this, dear?” Suo’s gentle words drew you back to reality, “You seem like the nervous one, now.” He laughed musically. It broke the tension. 

Sakura’s hand covered yours, brows curving in concern, “If I kick his ass would that make you feel better?” 

You snort, holding back your own laughter. He was so sincere! “I’m okay. Just nervous. I uh... don’t have much experience myself. Missionary basically.”

“Oh my! I hope the foreplay was good,” Suo exclaimed. As soon as you grimaced, he understood, “Ah. None?” You shook your head. The auburn tutor let out a shoulder-slumped sigh, “Men can be so disappointing.” He gestured for you to step in front of him, your legs standing beside either of his. He leaned forward so that his hands could graze the sides of your thighs. Their touch gentle yet electric as they caressed up and then down. In one feel movement, he hooked his hands behind your knees and pulled you to a straddle onto his lap. Heat circled the shell of your ear as Suo whispered to you, “I’ll teach him right.” The corners of his lips curled mischievously, loving the way your pretty lashes widened. 

“We’ll start with the kiss.” Suo peered to Sakura, reading his reactions and posture for any objections. Sakura’s chest rose and fell in semi-controlled, audible heaves. His hands pressed onto his thighs, denim imprinting against Sakura’s palms. Pupils were dilated. Perfect. Suo now shifted his gaze to you. You, who had caught his attention from the very beginning. 

You had been friends with them since high school and left with sorrowful goodbyes for university. When you came back more beautiful than when you had left, Suo sorely regretted letting Sakura shoot his shot first. He was happy for his friend. You were a catch! And quite frankly, you were suited for one another. No other person would be as patient as you with Sakura’s intimacy issues. Sakura loved you for it, too. Everyone saw it and knew it. However. Every time you came to Suo, tears in your eyes over the lack of physical touch and words of love, he saw red. 

Suo thumbed over your lower lip, sticky with gloss. He brought it to his own lips, licking up the flavor. Mint. Divine favor of the God’s, was it? Surely, he was blessed with this opportunity tonight. He hummed contently upon the realization that you’d been staring. Just to give you a show, he licked his lips. When your thighs reflexively squeezed his, he chuckled. 

“Hand placement is important. You have to be observant of their reactions,” Suo’s hands first rested on your thighs. As they worked up, you felt an anticipatory roll in your stomach. They reached the crease of your hip, giving a gentle squeeze at the plush roll of flesh. The muscle of your thighs flex, resisting a grind at his touch. Hoping he wouldn’t notice was wishful thinking. He picked it up immediately. “Did you see that?” The tutor’s gaze didn’t leave your body and neither did your boyfriend’s, “That’s a good sign. Try it. Just like this –“ Suo gestured for Sakura to come closer, which he obliged. He took Sakura’s hand and placed it at the same spot. His thumb pressed into the crease of your thigh and hip while his digits squeezed the fat of your side. Your practically purred. Suo’s hand at your right and Sakura’s at your left. Both feeling the way your muscle restricted your naturally desired movement. 

“Oh.” Sakura exhaled, practically breathless from this interaction alone. Suo narrowed his eyes, amused at both of the reactions he elicited. 

“Then put your hand here –“ Suo guided Sakura’s hand to the back of your head, “Keep it there. A hand here is intimate if you enjoy eye contact.” He takes the hand guiding Sakura’s away and takes your chin between his thumb and index. His grip is strong, but not forceful as he tugs your head down. A suggestion to meet his gaze. When you do, you’re locked in. His eyes are warm and darkened honey, catching you like a fly in the half-lidded gaze. 

Sakura was enraptured. Suo didn’t even need to ask this time. Sakura saw it all. The shift in your posture and reaction of your body to their touches burned into his memory. You were a perfected movie reel played in slow motion across his mind. Heat singed his cheeks, digits, and most importantly, his lower abdomen. Maybe it was Suo’s subtle antagonism – how he’d slip a challenging glance to Sakura, that washed away some of Sakura’s bashfulness. He’d always be able to show face for a fight.  A gear had clicked into place. This was like a fight. A style to communicate and Suo was fluent. 

“Now you kiss.” Suo pulled you into him by the jaw, opposite hand gripping your hip. Your lips met, exchanging heat and gloss. Sakura weaved his fingers into the hairs at the nape of your neck. Reflexively, his fingers curled into a secure tug against Suo’s pull. You mewl, mouth opening as your head tilts back with the pull. Your whole body quivers. 

“Shit! S-sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pull.“ The calico panicked, grip loosening. 

Suo moved his hand to lay on top of Sakura’s. To reinforce good form, the tutor curled the student’s fingers firm at the scalp, “She liked it. Didn’t you see?” And then he pulled.

You mouth opens in a moan. Always the opportunist, the fox juts in to slip his tongue past those pretty open lips.  He makes a point to invite the sleek muscle in your mouth to dance in the open. Hand at your chin now along your whole jaw, opening it for Sakura’s view. Saliva dribbles from the writhing dance onto the loaned shirt. Sakura’s glued to the slippery strand dribbling down and the way your lip-gloss glistened, smudged between your lips and Suo’s. Words dangle in his mind about your reactions. He gives a shy, tug to your hair now. It’s gentle, light, practically a tickle compared to the accidental first. 

You break contact with Suo with a giggle, “You can tug harder, I won’t break.” 

“Aren’t you brave~” Suo coos. His hand snaked up to your hair next to Sakura’s and with a firm tug, you’re a whimpering mess with your neck exposed.

Sakura’s heart lurched into his throat. For only a moment, fight or flight had kicked in. He released your hair from his grasp so that he could do a full scan. Suo wouldn’t do anything to legitimately hurt you. Rationally he knew that, but this was all so new. It wasn’t until he saw your hips sway with mindless need that it registered to him. You liked this. Sakura decided that he’d sit back and learn as a natural progression. 

Suo noticed the shift. It was hard not to considering that Sakura leaned back onto the arm of the couch, eyes fully on you. The teacher was now a performer on a stage and you were his lovely assistant. 

Hand in your hair tugs your head to the side, further exposing the smooth skin at your neck. He leans up so that your hands grip the fabric at his shoulders shakily. The wet tip of his tongue traces the lines at your throat. The position, the tilt of your head, everything was for Sakura’s perfect viewing. The calico could see every line of saliva made, illuminated by the flickering of the television. Your whimpers and whines, the way your body rolled against Suo’s every touch only reinforcing the act more. 

Maybe it was shameless of Sakura. Maybe your desensitization had worked some kind of wonder. Either way, Sakura was fully enraptured by the movement of your body. Any prior urge to look away or feel shy or ashamed had been washed away by the angelic sounds you made. Having a front row seat to your pleasure, seeing every reaction you made only made Sakura crave to see more. The bubbling fizz at the pit of his stomach flourished and without really thinking about it, Sakura began to unbuckle his belt. 

From the corner of your lust-lidded lashes, you peered hungrily at Sakura’s shivering fingers. Walls cinched on nothing but the thought of his arousal. You squirmed on the lap your straddled, uncaring of your previous attempts to look strong and controlled. 

“Is someone excited?” Suo teased as he followed your line of sight. Words rumbled off the curve of your jaw, eliciting another pitiful plea for satisfaction. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t dripping himself. You were so desperate to move forward, and Sakura was so desperate to watch. Their teacher and performer was more than willing to oblige. 

“Let’s take this shirt off, dear.” 

“Mhm,” You agree shyly. You take the hem of the shirt and begin to tug, but as you do, Suo’s hands grip your waist. He raised his hips and pulled you into a grind along the hardened shaft of his cock, hidden under trousers. You suck in air and flex your core to steady yourself as your legs and walls tremble. The act overrode your prior command, arms loosely resting on your head as the fabric of Sakura’s shirt hangs from your fingers. 

“Oh? I don’t think I said stop taking the shirt off. Did I Sakura?” Suo’s kind, cruel smile faces your boyfriend, allowing his input. He was helping, directing Sakura to play an active role in your satisfaction if he was just going to sit back and watch. 

Sakura all the while had his belt slipped off, jeans had been discarded onto the coffee table. The dampened circle of pre saturating the cotton front of his boxer briefs did nothing to hide the imprint of the thick shaft twitching against fabric. Suo didn’t show a reaction to it, but Sakura was well endowed to say the least. Your boyfriend groans, impatient for the next act to happen, impatient to learn how to better communicate with your body. “Don’ think so.” He responded simply, the gruff and awkward response has your shivering. 

You hurried now to yank the shirt off and toss it aside. Where it landed didn’t matter. Your arms cross over your chest as a sudden flurry of embarrassment overwhelms you. 

“T-take a deep breath, babe.” Sakura’s voice is now louder than the trash TV host in the background. You meet eyes, his desire to see you pleased overwriting his own carnal urges. The calico near choked on his spit when you shine a radiant smile to him in pride. You can’t help but feel proud now that he wished to coax you out of your own comfort. He leads and you imitate the pace of his deep breathing. Suo all the while takes your forearms, softly pulling them away from the bosom he so desired. 

Suo’s hands fall back to your waist. His mouth explores the curve of your breast as they rise and fall with each cycle. He’d work within the calming routine that you and Sakura had developed, moving his teeth and tongue slow to your pace. The nips of his front teeth causing your tempered exhales to turn to shudders. He guides you to a rhythmic grind. Each movement churning your shudders into pitchy pants. 

Sakura, who had been taking mental notes of each action that cause your reactions, now perked at the writhing of bodies. Inadvertently, he had synced his breathing to yours and in effect, vicariously poised himself in Suo’s spot. His own hips rocked with the air subtly and subconsciously. You were so gorgeous as you leaned back on display. Sakura practically could feel the twitch of your fingers on his knees as they did on Suo’s, desperate for steady contact. Sakura’s own tongue twitched as Suo’s circled your perfectly perked nipple. He wondered how much self-control Suo had to not just undress and fuck you like that. 

“Fuck. You’re so hot, baby.” Sakura’s hand reached for the hem of his boxers. 

Suo clicked his tongue in the way one does to scold a dog, “Sakura, I thought I was the teacher here? Shouldn’t you be paying attention to her?” He halted all movement, barely breathless while you heaved and greedily ground on him for more, “Pause, my dear.” You were broken from your own world, pouting at the man who commanded you to stop. Not that the command registered as serious. Defiantly, you tried to wriggle, but the clasp around your waist prevented further movement. “You both are needy little things, hm?” Suo smiled so very sweetly to you, “I said pause. Now be a good girl and try to stay quiet while I teach, alright?” 

The slick between your thighs drooled at the saccharine command. It had subtle authority behind it, numbing your mind to be pliable to his will. You hummed with a nod in response. He made note to reward your good behavior later. Reinforcement was important, after all. 

Suo’s smile now curled into something Cheshire, “Let’s move onto the next lesson.” He shifted, practically lifting you by your waist to a stand in front. Sakura listened, but his eyes traced the trail of wet lines down your thighs. His fingers gripped at the cushion – his own tempered restraint.

“Sakura,” He began, fingers working to remove his slacks, “Before you please yourself, you should be more imaginative with your lover.” Once the slacks were off, he began to unbutton his shirt. “Women more easily orgasm multiple times,” The shirt fell to the crease of the cushions, “so her cumming on your fingers first,” Suo cupped the silk-covered lips between your thighs, the pad of his middle finger pressing onto your throbbing hole. His cock jerked in response, yet he ignored it – leading by example. “Or cumming on your tongue first-” Suo licked a stripe from the line of your panties to your naval, “won’t deter her from cumming on your cock.” From below, his caramel gaze softened on you before another friendly challenge was poised to his student, “I can’t imagine a virgin like yourself lasting too long, so do what you can for her first before you’re spent. Otherwise, it might be someone else satisfying her desires.”

With subtle circles of his middle finger, he massaged you, testing how quiet you could be. Just because he gave a command didn’t mean he’d try for your disobedience. It was natural for him to play with his food before he ate it and you were a luxury dish he’d been waiting years to be seated at. His starved gaze feasted on your frame. Sakura had such a lovely, obedient girl. He wished you could be his to nibble on day in and day out. Jealousy wasn’t exactly the word for what Suo felt. He was happy for Sakura. But maybe... Sakura would let him dine on you while he learned which fork to use for what. Learning curves could take some time and it would be such a shame for you to run cold. 

“Then stop yappin’ and show me,” Sakura practically growled the words. He was willing to learn. He wanted to learn. He’d put all the work in to get to this point and he desperately wanted to see it through – see you through. Suo’s jabs felt no different from a spar. It was exciting to see who would please you best. Obviously Suo had the upper hand now, but later? In a month? Two months? He’d treat you so good that you wouldn’t be able to see straight.

Suo laughed like chimes at his friend’s fervor, “Let’s all get more comfortable, then. Take the boxers off.” While Sakura followed instruction, Suo hooked the crotch of your panties to pull them down. The knuckle of his index purposefully nuzzled across your clit as he did so. Your knees wobbled and your restrained voice broke free, but you stayed steady standing. Suo then took his own boxers off. 

Your shadow obscured his length from your vision, while Sakura’s laid bare in the light of the white static snow. Your tongue slides across your lips at the precum dribbles down the underbelly. He was a lot girthier than you initially thought he'd be, but you were certain you could lick him up and down all the same. Regardless of your fixation, your tutor had other plans. 

Suo shifted on the couch to sit upright. His back rested against the left arm and his right leg bent and propped against the back of it. He faced Sakura and Sakura shifted to mirror his posture on the opposite end. Suo tugged on your writs, “Put your back to my chest, dear.” And so you did. With his guiding hands along the outer sides of your hips, Suo positioned you how he pleased. Your head rested along his pecks, his steady heart beat loud and thumping. The mystery of his size resolved as his cock imprinted into the crease of your glutes, tip leaking pre at the base of your spine. His body was hot against yours. Against your back you could feel how tense his core was. He was restraining himself from moving while making it look natural. Your pussy throbbed at the idea of it – how he wanted to fuck you so bad but wouldn’t just yet. He was a gentleman. 

Drunk on the concept alone, you sway your hips against him, lascivious gaze watching for when he might break. In one short moment, Suo had your limbs restricted. Your right leg, which had been resting against his at the back of the couch, was now held up by the underside of your knee and against your chest. Your left leg was constricted by his and dangled over the edge of the couch. Suo’s left hand cupped, then smacked firmly onto your cunt. The sound sticky and loud over the TV static. He pressed his fingers onto you to sooth the sting. You cried out in both pleasure and pain only to be shushed. 

“You weren’t quiet the whole way through when standing~. Punishing disobedience is also the job of a teacher,” Suo’s voice bounced in delight at your pouting lip, “Did you think I forgot?” You shook your head. “Good girl. Now, be a good doll for a moment while Sakura explores” You nod, eyes wide on Sakura. 

Your breathing mimicked his naturally. The gentle ‘shhhh’ as he breathed out between his teeth. He relaxed his jaw as to not clench it. His shoulders wound back to release the tension there, too. Your smile inviting him over. You kept your hands to yourself, but pat the inside of your thighs to signal for him to come to you. Sakura in that moment thought of you more like seafoam. He feared that if he touched you the wrong way, you’d fizzle out beneath his grasp. Never-the-less, he knelt before you, taking up the cushion space between Suo and your legs. 

Suo nodded approvingly. The hand cupped over your sex moved up. He gave an overview of the parts on the off chance Sakura’s sex education had been lack luster, fingers grazing at each as he spoke. Your rested the back of your head onto his chest and closed your eyes. His voice so close to your ear and delicate touches along the labia majora and minora relaxing you. 

“I implore you to touch for yourself,” Suo chirped, hand now moving to trace shapes on your stomach. 

“S-sure,” Sakura stammered. He pet the trimmed pubic hair, tracing the shape of your labia gently and carefully. The slick that stuck to the curled hairs had him swallowing saliva hard. The veins of his cock pulsed, drawing out precum to drool onto your folds. “You’re so damn p-perfect.” You opened your eyes to look up to wonder-filled irises. He looked as if he’d found the garden of Eden. If you hadn’t been told to be quite, you’d thank him, but seeing you like this was thanks enough to your loving boyfriend. 

“Past this,” Suo interrupted, “is the clit.” His index and ring finger separated your lips, reveal the apple beneath. In anticipation, it pulsed and you bucked. Both men huffed a single laugh in response. Suo in satisfaction and Sakura in admiration. Suo’s middle finger pulled at the hood to reveal the plump nerve. “You have to be gentle with it at first. Too much stimulation and she might not enjoy it. Some people do, though.” He rose his fingers to your mouth and watched as you welcomed them into your maw. Tongue lapped at the digits, hungrily accepting whatever it could. “Oh? Someone has a fixation~ How cute!” Suo teased, swirling his index around your tongue. 

“Mmm,” You respond, eyes trailing the saliva strand that connected you both as his fingers left your lips. At your back was a thick, heavy throb. You wondered how he kept such composure at times like this. He always had a level head. Meanwhile you were swimming in sweet arousal. 

Suo took newly sodden digits to your clit, the tip of his index finger tracing circles around the bud but not yet on it. Your back arcs and a loud whine reverberates in your throat. 

Sakura swallows, bristling at the sounds you made. His hand hovers above you, uncertain about what to do next. Suo chuckles deeply, jostling you against his chest. The fox spreads you open, index and middle finger running down and around your entrance before coming back together to tease over the sensitive maw and bud. You crane into the touch, pitiful in your attempts to get them in. Your walls shiver with every rotation. He’s such a cruel tease! Suo is slow, deliberate, repeating the same motion. Your whines grow in volume and pitch until you’re practically on the verge of tears. 

Your boyfriend tilts his head, mind switching gears. A hand cups your cheek and his focused eyes hone right onto yours, “Breathe, baby. Everythin’s okay. Ya look so fuckin’ perfect  right now, too.” His voice is low, husky, mixed with both sympathy and hot honied lust. His praise urged you on. You gifted him your loveliest smile in return. 

“Check if she’s ready, Sakura~.” Suo instructs, “Gently work a finger in and tell me what you feel.“ His lips rest at the shell of your ear and then he presses a kiss to your temple, muttering just for you to hear, “You’re doing so well, my dear. If he says you’re ready, do you want me to fuck you?” The question was innocuous. You shiver, mind melting away to an unfamiliar space. Dazed, you peer up to him then to Sakura. You nodded, teeth gnawing at your lower lip. Suo stops his caresses, the pads of his fingers resting and pressing into your clit. There was no rub or stroke. It was curious, but the purpose was soon discovered.

Sakura mimicked his teacher, pressing two fingers past your lips. He held his breath, hips swaying to rut into air as your tongue and lips worked his digits. His composure was shot, face aflame and muscles trembling. 

Suo cleared his throat, garnering Sakura’s attention and snapping him back to reality. Right. Attention on you. Another deep breath. His fingers retreat from one maw to the other. He paws at you so delicately at first, uncertain but determined to draw out the same moans as his teacher. At first his pam is down. It’s uncomfortable at first and you scrunch your nose. 

“Palm up,” Suo corrects quickly, noticing your expression, “About two knuckles in and you’ll feel it.” 

When you look up to him, his half-patched gaze is glued to your pussy. His cock pulsates against your ass, body still as tense as it was before. If he even let loose a bit, he’d lose it all. He’s resisting so much. 

Sakura’s obedient shift in position has you gasping. He’s pawing into you and against you gummy wall. Sakura didn’t question what he should be feeling. He felt it as soon as he worked his way into you, just as teacher taught, “Sh-she’s-“ he swallows hard, “drippin’.” 

You press your back into Suo, desperately trying to work your hips to ride Sakura’s calloused hand. Years of hard community work, fighting, and building paying off in the form of  the textured drawl of his digit. 

“Tsk, tsk, not yet.” Suo grips at your waist, his legs pressing against yours to keep you still in their spread. Sakura had stopped his strokes, thick finger left motionless inside you. You whine and pout and throw your head to the side. A laugh came from behind you, “You can keep going, Sakura. She’s being good now. If she tries to fuck your hand again, just stop until she’s still.”

You huff, frustrated. 

Both men shared a look, silently in agreeance to continue. The calico learns through your reactions what strokes work you best. Actually, the reactions of your pussy herself rattles him to the core. She quivers and quakes when he strokes you right, gently prodding the sponge-like tissue inside. You cry out, every fiber of your being trying to keep your body steady. 

If you faltered, Suo held you firm. Suo moved one hand back to press at your clit. It wasn’t overwhelming. It was a pressure to work with Sakura’s quickening pace. Each stroke against your inner wall striking like a lighter while the press against your nerve sparked with kerosine.  You’re moans grew into loud cries. Without the ability to work against Sakura yourself, all of your energy went to your lungs. The neighbors would be bitching in the morning, for sure. 

The violent pull of your muscles was more than you could control as you sprinted toward the edge of the cliff, ready to dive for sweet release. You held your breath, body still writhing as your lower back arched with all its might. Just as you were about to jump – Suo ripped Sakura’s wrist away.

“F-fuck! Why?! No, no, no, no, put it back please! Please? More?” You crane your neck to plead with him, gasps and trembling body pointed to the wrong-doer. 

“What’s the fun in that?” Suo teased with a triumphant grin, “I said it’s easier for women to have multiple orgasms. That doesn’t mean there aren’t alternatives.” 

You pout petulantly, “Please Suo? Sakura? I-I-” 

Just as tears squeezed from the corners of your eyes, Suo lifted you by your thighs. “Since you asked so sweetly,” He angled your trembling frame until you were poised against the absolutely soaked head of his cock, “You wanted me to fuck you, did you not?” His chest began to rise and fall in quickening pace. Your pleaded left him like crackling class, “What if I wanted to feel you cum around me, darling? I’ve been so patient.” He kissed away the tears and turned his attention to Sakura, “Watch and learn, dear student.”

Sakura leaned back, eyes wide at all that transpired. His throat was dry. Yeah. Yeah. He wanted that. It hit him hard, but in that very moment, Sakura realized that he’d never be able to get you to beg and pant and cry like that by himself the first go around. His shy ass would have done everything you wanted and more. He would have gotten you there. He wasgetting you there. But shit, did you look so stunning when you begged. He covered his mouth with his free hand. He leaned into the opposite arm, giving his close friend enough room to fuck his girlfriend how you deserved. 

“Match my pace, Sakura.” Suo’s challenge rang clear and concise, “Perhaps if you last longer than me, I’ll let you have her next.” 

Sakura perked. He spat into his hand, saliva mixing with your slick. Challenge on.  “Pretty sure my stamina’s better than yours, Suo.” 

You gripped Suo’s forearms, the back of your head craned so your lips met Suo’s exposed throat. You needed something, anything, to occupy your mouth as he lowered you onto him. He was long. Much longer than you estimated. His tip split you and your mind drained of any and all thought. He filled you up comfortably, your pussy and his size forming to each other. It was then you realized Suo was losing composure. 

He began to sigh heavy, prettily. He was gaging how far into you he was by the way Sakura fucked his own fist. You’re heavy lidded gaze latched onto your boyfriend, piecing it all together. He started from his tip and slowly slid his hand down, matching it to how deep Suo sank into your greedy cunt. 

Suo began to rock his hips into yours.  At first it was slow. Every time he nearly pulled out only to thrust back into you with such force, you thought he was in your throat. The slapping stick of your sobbing hole against him matched with the smack of Sakura fucking himself. 

The intensity of his duochrome hues burning at your very core. Being able to see him, him able to see you – it was a blessing gifted from whatever deity gifted you all this moment. He was imagining being in Suo’s spot, fucking into you, holding you hostage at the edge. 

The fox bit into your shoulder, no longer caring of Sakura’s matching speed. His thighs beat into yours, cock searing its very shape into you. It reduced you to shuddering, shivering smithereens. A sheen of sweat licked at all your bodies. Your stomach rolled with increasing tension, a string held taught at each end. You held on for as long as you could, really you did. For every heavy thrust up, you bucked. Suo’s head struck at just the right spot. Again. And again. And again. 

It built from your core to your throat to your head, burning you up until you couldn’t see straight through the smoke. Your toes curled and your nails bit into Suo’s arm. He hissed at first only to breathlessly laugh. The sound grounded you. 

Suo bit into your shoulder, eyes now hard on Sakura. He hadn’t cum yet. Impressive. Even more impressive that you hadn’t yet despite your begging for that delectable finish. He was devouring you whole, memorizing your every sound. He’ll dream about the way your pussy felt cinching around him until his death. Suo was a greedy man at heart, despite how much he cared for you both. He wanted you to beg for his approval - to call his name more. He wanted you to remember him through it all. 

Sakura’s thick cock rolled through his fingers. His abs tensed as he withheld his own finish. Like hell he’d lose when you were on the line. You tear-stained lashes, your breasts jostling with each thrust, and not to fucking mention that he could see the curve of Suo’s cock massaging at your belly – it made Sakura wish he had a camera. Porn was nothing compared to this. Seeing you get your guts rocked burned into Sakura’s psyche. 

“F-fuck Suo, you gonna let her cum or what?!” Sakura growled. Their eyes locked and like two apex predators lapping at the same spring, they struck a bargain.

“Pretty girl~” Suo sighed hoarsely, “Do you – h’ah – do you want to cum?” He fucked you hard and steady. His controlled pace held you right where he wanted. With the way you clamped around him so desperately, he knew you were holding it just for him, too. You weren’t in your body anymore anyway. You’d been fucked to purgatory without passage to heaven or hell. Mentally you were fucking them both. Their synchronicity thread the three of you together in both sensation and in spirit. Surreal. It was surreal. 

“My dear,” Suo’s hand moved to your throat, palm resting at the front while his index and thumb gripped your jaw again. He pulled you to look him in the eye, “Do you want to cum or no? I can leave you like just like this if you don’t answer.” 

His threat invaded your headspace, ripping your back to your body and back to clarity. Your legs shook with a violence, your belly and sides and arms trembling as you withheld yourself from orgasm. All you could do was nod as your throat had become sore from sound. 

“Get ready~. Your pace now!” Suo let your boyfriend have a taste of control for desert. 

Now Suo fucked you to Sakura’s increasing pace. Not only did he match pace, but he match ferocity and depth. Your cunt was the same as Sakura’s very fist, linking you to his heavy handed masturbation.

The burn of your muscles, the chill of sweat, the cigarette burn pleasure clawing at your cervix all coalesced. Your toes curled and you pressed Suo’s hand harder to your throat til you felt dizzy. Each pound and pulse of your finishing show worth an eye-rolling encore. Hot and thick, Suo coats your insides. Each pulse of his cock followed by the cinch of your walls in argument. Against your stomach, Sakura painted his own mark. His growling ‘fuck’ a sweet chorus against your mind. 

The three of you panting together, letting the soothing snow of the television calm your nerves. Once you all had caught your breath, Suo grabbed his shirt, ready to catch his cum from seeping out of you and onto the couch as he pulled out. You shuddered, muscles too weak from exertion to even attempt to help. 

“N-now onto aftercare,” The martial artist sucked in air and let it out in a stream, “Could you run the bath? I think our little darling here is too tired to stand.” 

Warning con't. Consult a licensed therapist or psychologist if exposure therapy interests you as there are specific rules and regulations to the practice that a professional will know more than some schmo on tumblr. If done incorrectly, exposure therapy can reinforce and worsen phobias, trauma, and rituals so it is incredibly, incredibly important to seek a professional. Contact your insurance, your pcp, your therapist, whomever you need to refer you to a specialist if you are interested in exposure therapy.

It can be beneficial for PTSD, OCD, anxiety, phobias. Do your research on pubmed as pubmed is a proper and peer reviewed source for any type of medical information. If you need assistance navigating pubmed I would be happy to help as while I do not have a license for therapy nor a Psy.D., I at least have a degree in psych/neuro to know how to find reliable resources. The least I can do is offer help with finding proper peer-reviewed literature.

[cvpitvno]

wonwoo fucking you for literally hours with no idea about how many times the two of you have cum, only focusing on chasing the pleasure that each rut of his hips has for the both of you.

every push and pull he gave made his cock scream out in sensitivity, the skin worn and red from the friction of your cunt, and your lips swollen at the physical abuse it had gone through.

the man would fuck you until you were crying… and until he was crying.

fat tears coming from both of your eyes at the way every little move makes each of your stomachs tense up and tights shake.

wonwoo would be holding you close to his own body, sweat conjoining the two of you in a messy and overstimulated heap — that paired with the way wonwoo whined every time he moved and the way your hands could barely keep hold on his broad shoulders… it would truly be a sight for any of his members to see.

—

when wonwoo ventures from his room some time later, steps small and drowsy, the boys in the living room were quick to catch on.

“what, you get pegged for the first time or something?” mingyu laughed at his friend, knowing that the activities him and you had been up to were less than innocent. “surely it didn’t leave you that sore.”

wonwoo let out a small half hearted huff at the boys comment, continuing to the fridge to get a water to share.

“no,” he rolled his eyes, but the wince made his entire moody persona disappear. “i just fucked ‘em till we were both in tears,” he sighed. “so forgive me for being sensitive and sore.”

all his members could do was watch silently as the man made his way up the stairs with the water bottle in hand — the sounds of groans at every step he took that was too big wasn’t even enough to make the boys laugh.

for almost all of them were too caught up thinking (and praying) that whatever state you were in wasn’t any worse then what wonwoo was in.

[catcze]

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 Reader is afab (has a cunt) but no pronouns used. Good morning sex. Wriothesley eating you out to start your day ♡ Slight somnophilia, but everything is consensual. Oral sex / Cunnilingus (reader receiving) & fingering ♡

I typed this up in one sitting horny as fuck GOODNIGHT

Imagine waking from a haze, dragged out from slumber by the building pressure in your stomach. You're already halfway to cumming when you open your eyes, vision blurred but still able to spot the mess of fluffy black hair between your legs. One of your legs rests on his shoulder, his hand dimpling the skin in his grip while the other is splayed on your stomach as he holds your squirming hips down.

"Good morning, sweetheart," you can feel him murmur against your cunt. The vibrations make you flinch, and he just chuckles, tongue continuing to lap at your entrance. He eats you out like he's starved even though it's so early in the morning. One of your hands goes to his hair, pulling and tugging at the strands, making it even messier, but he doesn't slow down in the slightest.

You whine when his lips close around your clit, your vision starting to go white at the edges. As he sucks and pulls and grazes his teeth against it, your legs begin to shake like a leaf in the wind.

"C-Close," you whimper, and you're not even sure he can hear you over the obscene sounds of him eating up everything you have to offer.

But he does, apparently, as he doubles down on his efforts and absolutely loses himself to the taste of your pussy. You can feel the brush of his hand against your thigh, then two fingers are in you, stretching you out and rubbing against your walls as his tongue licks at your clit and oh he's so fucking good to you and with one last harsh suck your eyes roll into the back of your head and your grip on his hair tightens to the point that you'd be concerned if you weren't experiencing one of the most intense orgasms in your life, and it isn't even nine in the morning.

Wriothesely lets you ride your orgasm out on his face, lets you try to grind your hips up into his mouth as much as you can with his hand still pinning you down. Eagerly, his mouth licks up every drop of cum, savoring it like it's the finest of dandelion wines.

And when you try to pull away, try to tug him up for a kiss by his hair despite how breathless you are, he goes with little argument, crawling up your limp body to place a wet, messy kiss on your lips.

You're still breathing raggedly when he pulls away, and he's never seen a more lovely sight.

He hums, placing a kiss to your forehead. His lips are warm and familiar against your skin. "I hope you liked your wake up call, dearest."

[bunnis-monsters]

Late nights thoughts

Shy puppy hybrid that can’t help but hump your pillow and favorite stuffed animals when you’re gone. You’re so mean, leaving your needy pup all alone when he’s in rut.

Usually he’s a shy little thing, hiding behind you and yipping nervously when someone gets too close to you… but when you get home today, he’s on top of you instantly, using his taller stature and inhuman strength to keep you pinned to the floor as his fat red cock rubs against your hole.

“Left me all alone… missed you… w-wanna make puppies, wanna!”

He blubbered out apologies and needy whined as he fucked into you, melting into a puddle when he finally got to knot you and claim you as his mate.

Maybe your puppy wasn’t as shy as you thought… at least… not when he really wanted something.

[tojisun]

ex-husband price still swings by when your kids and your new boyfriend are out, by the way, to fuck you. he says it's all a quick check and that there's no feelings attached to this, but when he's got you in a mating press or a full nelson, punching his cock in-and-out of your gushing and squelching cunt, he makes you say you love him. when your mind is fried with straining pleasure, and your eyes are crossed, he noses along your ear and murmurs, "look how much more honest y'r poor cunt is. s'all puffy and squirtin'. missed me lots, don't it?"

he slaps your clit, heavy palm striking in quick successions. you howl, pleasure and biting pain razing you, and all john does is muffle his chuckles on your shoulder, his eyes crinkled in his delight.

(and if he timed it well, your boyfriend should be home soon.)

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere! Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 0: The Body I Stole

[part 1,2]

(CW: death, femme bodied gender neutral reader, child abuse) very short prologue for a story idea I had

There was a muffled sound of a woman struggling quietly as she chased the terrified gasps of a child running for his life. A small boy, maybe five years old, covered in scrapes and bruises new and old, was fleeing his mother as she limped after him.

Avery had caused the accident.

Her eyes were cold and sharp, glaring at the road ahead of her as they drove down the curvey mountain. It wasn't his fault, the scene at the birthday party, but his mother didn't believe it. She never did. The fear of being "disciplined" was something Avery never really shook, in fact, it was something he learned to expect..

He didn't know why he did it. But a surge of adrenaline electrocuted his fingertips, and launched his little arms towards her and the steering wheel. The family car swerved towards the trees, rolling twice before smashing into a tree.

The mother was practically dragging her shattered ankle through the weeds as she tried to catch her kid.

"AVERY! COME BACK HERE RIGHT! NOW!" Her voice tore through the woods. The venomous words that promised pain was heard by more than just Avery, however.

They didn't know what the situation was, nor did they care.. All (Reader) could think about was their hunger.

A twig snapping made the woman stop, believing she had found her child. The scowl on her beautiful features deepened, making the woman look more like a monster than the creature who had just woken up.

"Avery. If you come out right now I won't be mad. I promise."

Even to a monster that had been sleeping for the past hundred or so years, her lies were obvious. (Reader) listened to the little one covering his mouth a few feet away, and guessed that he was the Avery this woman was speaking to. But unfortunately for her, Avery was hiding in the opposite direction.

She couldn't even fake a smile as she hobbled over towards where the monster hid, stretching out their creaky joints.

As she passed the thick trees to where she heard the snapping branches, a small look of hateful triumph was shattered as she found something else standing where she assumed her son would be. The eight foot tall creature with grey skin smiled down at the human. Their body smelled of dirt and moss, but looked like a mummified corpse stretched out. Black hair fell around their shoulders, almost covering their six, blood red eyes, focusing on the trembling prey before them.

Her beautifully painted lips weren't given a chance to scream before the creature opened it's jagged toothed maw, and bit her pretty little head in half.

(Reader's) strong jaw crushed the woman's skull easily, splashing her soft innards down their throat and across their naked chest. It had been so long since they ate that they forgot to take the basic feeding steps.

What was her height? Her hair color? Her chest size? They forgot to care. It wasn't until the only thing left of her body was her left leg.

"Ah.. I made a mistake." (Reader) mumbled to themselves as they tried to recall what their meal's appearance was. If they hadn't been starving, they would have morphed into their new persona before eating them.

They did their best in replicating the woman.

Their spine snapped loudly as they shrunk, hair and skin rapidly changing in color and texture, until they were the woman as they somewhat recalled her to be. 'I'll just find a better suit later..'

Not even the woman's clothes remained in the bloody aftermath. (Reader) sighed as they shook her leg. 'My starvation made me sloppy.' They finished off the last leg of their meal, before turning and surprising themselves with the appearance of a small boy with black hair watching them. (Reader's) new eyes widened, having been so focused on their food that they hadn't noticed him sneaking up on them.

As they contemplated killing and taking the young boy's form, he surprised them again, rushing forward suddenly and wrapping his thin arms around (Reader's) naked flesh.

A/N: I know it's short, but I had an idea for a multiple chapter story, with a clingy adoptive son ❤️ needed to get the OG mother out of the way before the story, because even though this is what I want to happen in the story, it doesn't fit the way I want the first chapter to start haha

[catscidr]

Ok, crowtorre? 10/10. THE 💣 💣 💣 😭 But omg how would he fair with a cat or wolf hybrid reader..

PLS

NOO he would be such a tease!! he’d be so mean!! im imagining cat hybrid reader (bc im biased lol) but LORD he’d be even more mischievous than usual, to the point where you go out of your way to avoid him at all cost if you get that feeling in your gut that tells u he’s going to be particularly annoying (he’s pissed you off so often you eventually developed a sort of sixth sense related to it. a headache radar, if you will)

(prev crowttore post for context)

cw: crow hybrid!dottore x afab!cat hybrid!reader. established relationship, he’s annoying, pure rambling from yours truly so barely even proof read. second half is nsfw, minors dni, scara mentionned once, rough sx, possessive behaviour, talks of breeding, overstim, smidge of aftercare.

“your reactions are entertaining” he’s told you once, his excuse whenever you shove him away from you. ever since then, you’ve tried to keep your reactions to a minimum. give him nothing more than a glare. but you fail. every single time. it’s not your fault he’s so good at reading people!! curse his big wrinkly brain

it’s not all that bad, though. sometimes he helps, like when you have knots in your shoulders he’ll gladly "preen" you and rid you of the pesky tension building up in your aching muscles with his nimble fingers. sometimes he even takes time to brush your tail for you; but that’s not something he does solely for your benefit. he’ll pluck out the fur that gets caught in the brush, and he'll use it for... something. you never asked, and you don’t really want to know (especially considering what he does to people on a regular basis)

but, at the end of the day, being with dottore is a chore at best. he can be a decent partner, but he, for some reason, makes it his mission to get on your nerves everyday. he’ll poke and prod at your ears and tail, “begging” you in a mocking tone to let him run tests on you. he’ll invade your personal space on purpose until you hiss and swat him away, only for him to grab your wrist and taunt you to “try harder than that”.

even if he doesn't go out of his way to irritate you, sometimes you'll just glance at him and get annoyed. maybe that was just a reflection of how little patience you had around him, though.

at this point you’ve lost count on how may times he’s run your patience to the ground (whether on purpose or not), but if there's one thing he's good at its pleasing you. he's smart (though calculating), dexterous, and observant. surely that means that he'll ditch the teasing and be a good boyfriend for you once you go through your monthly heats!

NO. LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. WRONG!!!!

you'll be writhing in discomfort in his bed, tail all fluffed up and twitching, swiping at the sheets beneath you as you rut into his pillow. you're smearing slick all over the fabric, a mix of curses and whines slipping past your lips.

he refused to take the day off to take care of you when he saw the state you were in, saying something like "you're an adult, surely you can control your urges" with the same, sickly sweet smile he flashes at you whenever you pout at him. he even made sure to give you a kiss after he left your shared flat to go to his lab, something he never does.

and there you were. watching the clock tick, impatiently waiting for him to come home to replace the stupid toys that couldn't even drag one measly orgasm out of you. not a single one. all you could think about was him, him, him.

you could barely smell him on the pillow anymore, since all you smelled was how horribly horny you were. but as soon as you heard the front door open and the familiar sound of his boots stepping on the worn-out "welcome" mat, you swear you felt even more slick drip out of you (if that was even possible)

the second dottore steps into his room and he's at arms length, you grab onto his sleeve and tug him closer. unfortunately for you, your muscles are considerably weaker than usual and you don't even get to move him even an inch closer to you.

he revels in the whines that leave you and in your discomfort. he's both the best and worst person to take care of your heat; he knows what he's doing, sure, but he also knows exactly what to do to keep you right on the edge. both with actions and words.

"why would I help you with you heat, darling? don't you need a fellow feline hybrid to help you?" he coos, slipping his coat off of his shoulders, making you all but drool at the sight of the harness hugging his firm torso.

"no. no, fuck you, i need you," you whine, a pout tugging at your lips as you take in a deep breath to steady yourself. he just smiles, bending down to your level to cup your face in his soft, feathery hands to speak to you in that condescending tone he always uses this time of the month. "want me to call the balladeer to take care of you? i'm sure he'll be delighted to blow off some steam. and he'll be helping you, too! don't you want that? to have his cat cock drilling into you?"

when you scowl, tail whipping against the bed with dull thumps, he grins. of course he would never hand you off to his coworker, he doesn't trust any of the harbingers around you when you're in heat anyways. dottore knows only he can quench your insatiable thirst, but he adores hearing it from you. hearing you whine and beg for his touch, for his cock gives him an ego boost- makes that primal, possessive part of him coo in delight.

and when he finally touches you, black nails scraping against your sticky, sweaty skin, you swear you almost cum on the spot. it would have been embarrassing if it wasn't for the fact that you had been on edge the entire day. at least he was kind enough to make you cum properly with his fingers one time to rid you of that hunger for just a second, enough for him to get rid of his slacks to free his aching, hard cock from its confines.

seeing you beg for him fed his ego and, in turn, made his blood rush down to his second head, you really can’t blame him.

he manhandles you so easily it makes you throb with need, your first orgasm having faded away already, making you ache for him to pull another one out of you. and he would do so oh so graciously, pulling your ass back with a tug on the base of your tail, admiring the view of you on all fours just for him.

“ahh… i’ll never get tired of seeing you like this, waiting all nice and pretty for me. want me to fuck you nice and good, don’t you? breed you full of my seed?” he coos right into your ear, pulsing erection sliding up and down your wet folds, just barely dipping inside of your hole. you hiss, words failing you as you slip a hand between your legs to guide him inside.

and he lets you, smirking at the sight of his stubborn, headstrong partner reduced to a puddle of carnal need. you feel all nth inches of his hard cock fill you up and you cum hard, crying as you finally get what you had been craving for hours. his length all snug inside of you, letting you cockwarm him until the aftershocks of your climax fade and he can start moving in you, fucking you.

it would only be the beginning though, because he always made it his mission to “beat” your heat, so to speak. make you cum on his cock so much you would be pushing him away, weakly tapping his chest and clawing at his back as you plead for him to pull out.

you’ll be pinned to the bed on your stomach as he thrusts into you; sharp, hard plaps echoing in the bedroom over and over again, the bedsheets soaked with your juices and his seed. you can barely even think of running away, brain reduced to mush as he admires the way your ears seem to be glued down to your head, tail flicking weakly in time with his thrusts.

but when he finally takes pity on your poor sore and used cunt, he’ll rub soothing circles on your back as you purr quietly, satiated. for now. he doesn’t bother leaving the room to get a washcloth because he knows you’ll only claw at his arm, pull a few feathers out as a result, and look at him with those eyes that make him want to take you all over again.

he knows you’re tired though, if it wasn’t already obvious by the way you don’t even bother to untangle yourself from the soiled bedsheet you laid on. and he’ll gladly stay with you, keeping his wing spread out over you to keep you warm until you wake up and pounce on him for even more rounds.

[yanderestarangel]

More about tio miggy pls? Something about him catching his nephew masturbating for him`` his sweet innocent ftm nephew and he destroys his pussy

It really makes me throw my feet up and blush... I say... Hear me out

Tio Miguel would arrive so tired from working on his farm, sweaty, with a smell of drink and sweat on his body while his heavy steps would echo across the old wooden floor ─ but not enough to catch your attention, after all, you were too busy grabbing the pillow with his smell while fingering your own pussy feeling your clit throb with every thought of feeling your step uncle's fat cock filling you completely.

It was supposed to be just another fantasy session, but this time he caught you in the act.

Tio Miguel saw everything through the open door that you had left, your cunt got wet and dirty on the warm sheets beneath you while your breathing became shallow ─ the idea of ​​him inside you — it was taboo yet tempting beyond reason. His erection swelled painfully against his jeans, proof of his mounting arousal. You just felt his warm and rough hand pull you and wake you up from your trance of lust, making you blush but you didn't have much time to justify something, just feeling his two fingers enter abruptly into your wet hole and making you arch your back. Your moans ignited a firestorm within him, urging him towards madness. His fingers danced faster, matching the intensity of your cries.

Tio Miguel pulled you closer, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss ; his tongue dueled with yours, mirroring the action below. Saliva mixed with whiskey, creating an intoxicating blend. His free hand explored your curves hungrily, cupping your breast firmly yet gently. "¿Te gusta, mi vida?" He would growl as he fucked you with his digits watching your juices wet them entirely. "Do you want me, niño? Do you want me to fuck you?"

It wouldn't be long before you were filled with his fat dick─ the hair on his pelvis was hitting your hips as he buried your head into the soft mattress and made you look for more friction with his cock. Tio Miguel pounded his dick into your wetness so many times that you could feel your vision go dark and back again and again, buzzing and growling sounds coming from the brute foreman filled your mind. "You only know how to think about being filled, don't you mijo? You wanted that... So you better deal with my cock."