#cw dumbification

[rawjutsu]

"one one-hundredth" a 100 follower special

pairing: satoru gojo x fem reader

cw: unprotected sex, strength kink, mating press, overstimulation, size kink, mild dumbification, dirty talk, reader is called a "good girl", aftercare(ish) + post-sex fluff, suggestive ending.

a/n: rahhhh 100 followers a week after my first post tysm guys i cant wait to feed u all more degenerate toru content!! <3

you knew this would happen eventually.

gojo’s cock is already too much on a normal day—long, thick, curved just right to make your stomach twist when he sinks in—but tonight?

tonight, something’s different.

maybe it’s the way he came back from a mission high off cursed energy. maybe it’s how he wouldn’t stop being a little shit all day—whispering “can’t wait to fuck you dumb later” into your ear while you were trying to fold laundry.

or maybe it’s the way he’s currently got you in a mating press, absolutely ruining you, hips snapping into yours like he’s got a point to prove, like he wants the whole damn neighborhood to know you’re his.

“fuuuck, baby,” he groans, sweat dripping from his neck to your chest as his grip bruises your thighs, “you’re squeezin’ me so tight—think she’s scared. she knows what i’m capable of, huh?”

your only response is a cracked, pathetic sob. every time he hits that spot—that spot—it makes your vision go white at the edges. you’re so far gone you can barely breathe, mouth open, gasping, half-moaning like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

“c’mon, baby,” he coos, not a single drop of sweat slowing him down, “don’t go dumb on me yet. you said you could take it.”

you didn’t. but it’s too late for that now.

he slams into you again—hard—and something shifts. something wood. something structural.

you both freeze.

“…that wasn’t me,” you whisper.

gojo tilts his head, then smirks. “that was me. but don’t worry—i’m only using, like, one-onehundredth of my strength.”

“that’s not comforting, satoru—”

he pulls out until just the thick, flushed tip’s nudging your entrance, and slams back in with such force the entire mattress bounces. the bedframe lets out a deep, tortured groan.

“oops,” he chirps, breath hot against your ear. “should i go easier?”

you try to speak. try to say “yes, dont break the fucking bed.” you try. but he starts moving again—fast, relentless—and all that leaves your mouth is a garbled whimper.

“that’s what i thought,” he laughs darkly. “bet your brain’s all fucked out already. look at you. just a mess for me.”

your nails carve into his back. he groans, low and desperate, like he lives for it.

“that’s it. mark me up, sweetheart. be a good girl and take what i give you.”

you jolt.

the next thrust knocks the headboard clean off. there’s a sickening crack, and suddenly you’re fucking on a slanted mattress, one corner dipped toward the floor like the whole bedframe just gave up.

gojo does not stop.

not even when your legs start twitching. not when you sob his name into his neck. not even when your whole body shudders and your orgasm slams into you like a truck.

“shiiit, that’s it,” he moans, chasing his own release now, fucking you through it like a man possessed. “look at you. creamin’ all over me. you want it that bad, huh? want me to ruin you?”

your body says yes even when your mouth can’t.

his thrusts get rougher. meaner. until his hips stutter and he buries himself deep—so fucking deep you swear you feel it in your throat—and lets go with a growl, hot cum spilling into you as the frame collapses completely under both your weight.

but gojo’s not done.

he keeps going, fucking you through his orgasm, chasing every last pulse of it, like he’s addicted to the way your body clutches around him.

you’re whimpering. crying. your brain is goo.

he finally slows. lets out a shaky sigh and presses a kiss to your cheek, and then your collarbone, and then your jaw.

“…we should probably get a new bed,” he murmurs.

later, you’re both flat on your backs, sprawled on the dead mattress like survivors of some freak furniture war. gojo’s scrolling on his phone, clicking through listings with weirdly serious concentration.

“okay,” he says, holding up a picture. “this one’s got reinforced carbon steel and anti-vibration mounts. might survive two rounds.”

you peer over. “that’s a tactical bunk bed.”

“perfect for a tactical dickdown,” he says.

you sigh, but he’s already moved on.

“ooh, this one. definitely honored one-proof.” he scrolls to the reviews. “ five stars. that’s promising.”

you laugh. “maybe… we should test it out before buying. for research purposes.”

gojo’s eyes gleam.

he adds it to the cart twice.

[pwettybbybunny]

Thinking of older Fatui men with a young, promiscuous and insatiable lover (Genshin Edition) 18+

Featuring: Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Pierro

Cw: Dumbification. free use, exhibitionism, cock warming, tiny body worshipping, pet play, throat training, dacraphyllia

★ ⋮ Dottore ⸝⸝

Is somebody gonna match my freak? No, cause he's ten times worse then whatever the fuck you are.

On the counter, on his table, in his lab, in front whatever abominations he's working on, in the Sumerian Forest to relive his younger years and traumatizing all the aranara, yes sir, you two being fucking 24/7, you wanna be a needy little bitch, my my, he would love to indulge.

Now, he can't exactly just stop his work but that doesn't mean you gotta stop, just lap his balls like a good lil pup, and warm it while he work. And don't you dare try to retreat when somebody walks in his lab, nuh uh, you gotta do your job like a good baby, and focus on him and his cock.

Big on dumbification too, you wanna be little whore and give him those fuck me eyes 24/7? You wanna be a shameless slut humping on his leg when he's working cause you just need it so bad?

Silly thing, you are just asking for trouble aren't ya, getting the big scary doctor addicted to your insatiablilty, unable to focus on his work without his baby pleasing.

God how much he hate when you are doing something else than focus solely on him, and he equally hate when his darling is sad, but he is at the end of the day Dottore, so of course he won't deal with his worries normally.

So, hitting to birds with one stone, he will make sure one way or other to make you his personal fleshlight, constantly pleasuring him and since no thoughts except cock, no sad darling.

Though the jerk sometimes will deny you pleasure or outright attention if he wants in the mood to spice things up. Will lick stains you tears after you fall asleep after crying.

Oh, and despite all the agents in his faction being uncomfortable with the blatant shamelessness of their Boss, and the struggle they go through to not catch a glance of naked you in between his legs, cause that would just lead to their beheading, at least they are grateful that you being there makes him at least a bit rational.

★ ⋮ Pantalone ⸝⸝

Oh he digs it, definitely the type keep you as his sugar baby, his pretty eye candy he likes to stay on his lap during his meetings. Dressing you up in the prettiest jewels and the softest fabrics, his sweet sweet status symbol.

Loves just being with you 24/7, you make up as a fine entertainment, having you hanging around his arm, groping you in front of whoever's talking to him, shamelessly if they are someone below in rank or discreetly if he respect the other person in front of him. But never showing much of your skin, although he loves to show off his darling, their precious body is only for him to savor.

And also the type to not mind if you have a promiscuous reputation, finds it cute even, you are a trained and experienced one, so that just means better quality, might even tease you about, if he can get a good reaction.

But, that doesn't mean he likes when someone else, especially your ex hook ups point it out, especially if you don't like that. The business smile on his face will remain the same except he will have that anime villain black aura around him, that make the latter super uncomfortable. Don't sweat your pretty head if you later found that person wailing in the northern bank, just focus on your lover.

Big on cock warming too, except instead of oral like Dottore he likes to use your warm holes. Not a big fan on keeping you on the floor, kneeling in front of him, you are his treasure, you deserve to be in equal standing. Sometimes during his break he like to lift you to his table, and pleasure you orally, savoring your taste for a good while, as a thank you for keeping him company.

★ ⋮ Capitano ⸝⸝

For the captain it's just another one of your cute traits, his needy little lover he likes to take everywhere. Now especially a much younger lover will make Capitano extra protective of them, hence being the only one who will find your insatiably a bit worrisome, especially concerned with how much he could indulge due to being extremely well endowed down below.

Now unlike the other three, his work is out in the battle fields, and heavy expeditions, and normally he would prefer to keep you tucked in Snezhnaya, but insatiable darling is a special case, where he can't just leave them alone with no one to pleasure which means, he just have you travel with him, wherever he goes next, having at least 10 fatui members as your body guard 24/7, and him carrying you princess style, on his back, whatever fits wherever the carriages during the travels can't go, cause fucking him is a goodbye to your legs.

Now back to Capitano's big dick problem, this man loves to use your mouth, but his dick is so hard to fit in! So before travelling with you, back in Snezhnaya he had you warm his cock for prolonged amount of time, slowly increasing the length everyday, so your throat can accommodate his monster of a cock, till you can deepthroat like a pro!

Also likes to pleasure you with his mouth and fingers, stretching you out before every session, despite how much experienced you are, because his cock will hurt, and he can't have his little darling in pain, that just ruin his own pleasure.

But, that's Capitano on a normal day, cause behind the gentle boyfriend persona, there's a devious monster, which comes out when the adrenaline kicks in, especially after a battle, the second he sees you, he's ripping your clothes up, plowing you like a rice farmer, with his tongue shoved down your throat. This isn't jut sex anymore, it's your lover's need to be deeper inside you, as a person, as if he wanna fuck your soul, desperate to have you in his eternity.

Kinda likes exhibitionism too, gets super flustered if you point out the soldiers outside your tent could probably hear you getting railed and then start fucking you even harder, blessing them with your pretty moans.

No one brings up your past or your inability to walk for few days after they heard you moaning loud enough to wake a village like a chicken, out of respect for the captain.

★ ⋮ Pierro ⸝⸝

He's too old and grumpy to keep up with your bullshit. Try to flirt with him in front of someone and he smack your head. No he's not blushing! Don't point it out, he has he reputation to keep up.

Out of everyone on this list, Pierro will be the one most embaressed to have a lover like this. He has never been the type to around, always been a straight forward man, focused on his work, ethics and goals, even during his days before Khanneria fell. So now having to deal with you it trully is overwhelming for the old man.

Now that doesn't mean he hates it, this man is a simp in heart for real-for real, he just don't know how to show it and has a big enough ego to not try, so yeah, he's tsundere granpa.

Not a big fan of people talking about your reputation, that just pisses him off, you might have a past, but now you are entirely his, and if someone dares mention it, they will disappear from the face of Tevyat.

Also cause grandpa, he fucks the least in the list, but when he doesss. The man fucks nasty, like a rabid animal, making up for all the denial, 10/10 eyes rolling, multiple orgasms, thighs weakening, throat drying by how much he make you scream.

Likes to degrade you for being a desperate whore, calling you mean names till you cry, only to fuck you harder when he start seeing your tears, god this man loves those tears.

Big on pet play too, like calling you his dumb bunny, telling you how you are as simple minded as an animal, as you mouth his dick, earning you a smack as your teeth graze his cock. Once he starts coming out of his shell, he like to keep you in a collar, sometimes even adding a collar to your neck, and just look at you or drag you around.

| Tell me suggestions for other men who fit in this trope (current list: (Genshin) Zhongli, Neuvillette; (HSR) Welt, Blade, Jing Yuan)

[b-lairington]

Dumb Little Thing | Mike Schmidt

☆ : dumbification(hopefully, it's my first time writing for this kink), overstimulation, cockwarming, creampie, hinted/mentioned multiple orgasms, very brief but also cnc if u squint, mentioned foreplay, dom!mike schmidt,

requested by anon

It's not often that Mike gets a day off, working countless overtime shifts in order to make ends meet.

When he finally catches a break, he's using that time to blow off steam, letting out all his frustrations by using you.

With your face pressed into the matress, your back arched, and moans muffled into the fabric of the sheets, he had it. Your hole is clenching tightly around his cock, milking him for all the cum he could give possibly give you.

"Fuuuckkkk, Miikkeeee....!" You cried, whimpering out as you couldn't form any other words, your mind was practically scrambled as Mike continued to fuck his cock deeper into your cunt. His tip continued to nudge your cervix. He was so deep inside he almost had the air in your lungs knocked out. You wanted to beg for more, for him to go faster, but all that came out was a mewl and whine.

"Yeah? Can't say shit?"

He slapped your thigh, a pink print left behind while he grabbed your hair and tugged on it. Your legs were shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you up, your back pressed up against his chest. He starts kissing your neck, his hands groping whatever they could reach. His fingers eventually make it to your nipples, playing with them as the movements of his hips moving start up again.

Your own hips ache with the positions he's had you in, your stomach dips as his fingers eventually reached your pussy. Your clit is overly sensitive from earlier foreplay, you almost fall forward as he starts to play with it.

"M-.. Mike-! Mike..!" You want to say something, you want him to fuck harder and faster, you want him to make you cum, but you can't make out words as your own breathing picks up a faster pace.

Your cum and slick allows for his cock to glide in and out so smoothly, the angle at which he has you in only intensifies the amount of pleasure he's giving you.

"You dumb little thing.." He groans out, seeing how fucked out he has you, how stupid you've become on his cock. "So fucked out on my dick, aren't you?", he whispered into your ear.

You can't even say anything other than his name as you're reaching another climax, pussy throbbing around his dick.

"Gonna cum?" He asked, pushing you onto the mattress, your chest hitting the bed, face into the sheets again. All you could do was let out a muffled cry, the overstimulation was reaching a peak within you, it was painful but overpowered by the sensation of pleasure. It was an overwhelming feel, but you needed it, you craved it because you didn't know when the next time would come.

"Oh, you dirty girl." Mike groans, you came, pussy spasms around his length. All strength in your body is gone, it doesn't take longer before your boyfriend is cumming into your used cunt. The hot sensation of his cum flowing into your pussy had you panting more.

Everything after that is a blur.

Mike doesn't pull out, instead, he falls to your side and hugs you from behind. The mixed combination of both yours and his cum sits at the base of his dick.

"Aren't you such a good dumb doll?" He kisses your neck. You barely hear what he says before his cock is ramming in and out of you again.

[madaqueue]

A HEAD HELD HIGH IS SURE TO FALL

every night, the king of curses repeats the same routine - waltzing through the halls, often covered in blood (of course not his own - never his own; after all, he was the king for a reason), choosing from one of his many concubines, and storming into his chambers. every night, the screams echoed through the empty temple; every morning, the girl he bedded was gone. you figured you'd take your chances when you ventured onto his estate, following the promise of comfort and lavishness. but when he chooses you, you can't help but dread the unknown fate waiting on the other side.

pairing: trueform!sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: dark content (dubcon). smut. blood, mention of death and murder, biting/bruising, degradation (slut, whore, cocksleeve), he slaps your ass, fingering, dumbification, double penetration, sukuna is real freaky nasty mean. 18+, MDNI (wk: 4.1k)

a/n: licking the blood off his face or whatever

quintober masterlist | sign up form

At first, you think the girls must have been happy. They were chosen by the King of Curses, after all. They wore their heads high, pride settling on their shoulders as they waltzed after him to his chambers.

At first, the others ignored the screams. Perhaps it was pleasure twisted into pain, they tried to reason. When the girls never came back the next day, the others wanted to assume the best. Perhaps he so cherished their time together that he decided to free them from the temple, relinquishing the bindings of their agreement to stay.

But you have grown to learn otherwise.

Because you know Ryomen Sukuna is not a kind man. He would never spare a victim for the sake of sympathy; it wouldn’t be particularly fitting for a king, after all. It took work to claw his way to the top, and despite how easy it may seem to overlook the mountain of corpses he stands upon, you’ve never quite gotten over the feeling that he’s glaring down at you.

Now, when heavy footsteps echo down the hall, the air runs cold. You line up next to the others, eyes trained downward, only catching glimpses of the dried blood staining the edges of his robes.

When he points at one of the girls next to you, her body seems to collapse: it’s giving up - her fate has been sealed. Now, the obligation hangs heavy, a collar tightened around her throat, chains clattering as she walks to her doom.

There’s silence for a moment before the rest of you uncomfortably rise and return to whatever tasks filled the time. You were all so numb to death by now it didn’t even linger in your thoughts for more than a moment, a brief flash of decay. You honestly don’t think you even remember the name of the girl who had just been chosen, not that it mattered anyways. Nobody would be speaking it again.

Painting is what you find yourself returning to. It’s what originally drew you to Sukuna’s temple on that wretched summer’s day, after all. You had been searching for materials in the woods, new flowers to use as dyes to craft with, when something flashed across your vision: a girl, in the brightest white dress you’d ever seen. She giggled, her skin glowing under the sun as she hummed to herself.

You found yourself following her. Nobody lived in these woods, at least not that you had ever seen. Anyone you happened to encounter was usually clad in leather or metal, weapons strapped to their sides, hunting for survival.

But not her.

She looked perfectly defenseless, beautifully vulnerable. She didn’t even turn around as you slowly approached her, not a single survival instinct left. What comforts made her so willing to forego protection?

“Excuse me,” you called, reaching an arm out as though to prove she was, in fact, real. When your hand made contact with her warm skin, she didn’t even flinch.

“Oh!” she laughed. “I didn’t see you there. Are you lost?” She was even more stunning up close.

“N-no,” your voice cracked in awe. “I just…do you live out here?”

Her gaze softened as she smiled. “Oh, yes. I live in the temple, I was just out for a walk.”

“Your temple…?”

“Well, it’s not my temple, I suppose,” and that gorgeous laugh returned. “It belongs to Lord Sukuna.”

The title felt familiar in your head, a name covered in cobwebs and dust, one you only remembered hearing in the dark. “And he allows you to stay there?”

“Yes! He allows all of us to stay there, and he takes such lovely care of us, too. We have the most delicious meals, the most comfortable beds, any whim we could possibly think up is catered to in an instant.”

Something in her words made your muscles ache - you had surely been walking for miles by now, a layer of dirt coating your skin. Your stomach churned in hunger, not having eaten in possibly days, unable to consistently afford even the bare minimum. Sometimes the shop owners in town took pity on you, but sometimes they cast you away with a cruel glare. There was a flash of jealousy inside you - what had she done to deserve these luxuries? Just as the thought found its way to your tongue, she continued.

“Would you like to come see it?”

Glancing down at your calloused and stained hands, you wondered how soft hers felt. You wondered if she smelled like flowers. You wondered if you could, too.

“Yes,” you mumbled.

It took so few words to convince you - looking back on it, you wonder if she was even trying to convince you at all. She hadn’t oversold the reality, per se. You wonder if you could go back to that moment, if there’s anything you could have said to prevent yourself from joining her.

You brush the thought aside with a sigh. It doesn’t matter now, after all - you willingly walked yourself to a promised paradise, and now have come to resent it. In spite of its comforts, in spite of its safety, you’ve never felt more vulnerable.

At least you can paint here.

Resting your elbows against the wooden window frame, you paint scenes of places far from this cage, places you can now only imagine. Perhaps if you can create them on paper, your mind could one day venture there, too.

Sukuna’s servant, Uraume, the one you always see quietly bustling about, does have a talent for finding the most beautiful pigments. You wonder where they collect them from, how expensive they are. You almost laugh at the thought of Sukuna paying for something like this, and you wonder if he knows where his wealth gets spent. The laugh dies in your throat as you realize that he likely has never had to actually purchase anything in his life. His currency is fear.

And yet, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Today, a beautiful fall landscape uncovers itself from your brushes. Deep browns and oranges cascade across the canvas. But there’s a sour taste lingering in your mouth as you work - it’s all dead. Every fallen leaf, every cracked branch is dead. That’s all things seem to be anymore.

With a huff, you let your momentary frustration get the better of you, splattering the carefully collected red paint across your masterpiece, a bloodied smear across your work. At least now it looks alive.

The next day is the same.

Sukuna enters.

You all line up.

Your knees hurt from kneeling on the stone floor.

He walks down the line (you wonder how many there are here, now - you’d think the numbers would be dwindling after the near daily executions, but they seem to remain steady, always replenished with some new bright-eyed girl who thinks she’s found her salvation, only to learn it’s her damnation).

But today, you can’t bring yourself to lower your head.

You know you ought to - the other girls taught you during your first week here. Apparently, in the past, he had simply killed those who refused to bow for him outright, not even bothering to torture them first.

But today, you just can’t. Perhaps being killed would be more merciful than this hellish purgatory you’ve found yourself in. At the very least, you’ll die with your head held high.

Footsteps stop in front of you.

“Oh? What’s this?”

A shiver runs up your spine. You’ve barely heard him speak in all your time here, you realize. When he chooses to, it’s exclusively been to bark orders at Uraume or scream at those who come to worship him. But this is different. He seems almost…excited.

“You know, it’s impolite not to bow.” And he has to be fucking with you, because you swear you hear him practically giggle out the words.

“I am aware, my Lord.” The words taste bitter as you spit them out, but you don’t make any action to move. Instead, your gaze rises to meet his, and your heart stutters. Ruby eyes stare back at you, masked by matching blood splattered across his skin. He looks nothing short of godly - perhaps that’s why so many willingly worship him.

And then, the god before you laughs.

“Come with me,” he beckons before turning away.

The girls around you can’t hold back their quiet gasps as you slowly rise to your feet.

He’s going to kill you.

As you follow behind him, the words sink into your stomach.

He’s going to kill you.

Each step down the path makes your heart beat in turn.

He’s going to kill you.

Rounding an unfamiliar corner, you nearly careen into him as he suddenly stops before two large wooden doors. They’re intricately carved, a level of detail you wouldn’t have expected for a place dedicated to killing. And yet, they’re utterly beautiful.

“In,” he growls when you fail to move.

You nervously shuffle past him before heavy footsteps follow you inside. Your gaze wanders over his chambers, the maroon bedding mirroring blood, the dark wood posts caging it in. Everything about it feels oppressive, sucking the air from your lungs like smoke; and yet, it doesn’t seem fitting for a place of sacrifice.

“Derobe and get on the bed.”

He’s shuffling around behind you, not even looking your way as he maneuvers through the space.

Hesitantly, you do as you're told, draping your robes over the headboard before laying down. The comforter is soft beneath your skin, cool to the touch. Perhaps silk? Some luxury you’ve never been afforded, surely.

The entire room seems to shift under the magnitude of his presence as he walks towards you. His own robes are now banished to some corner of the room, skin sparkling under the flickering candlelight from the chandelier above. Two pairs of arms cross as he glances at you, and he hides his smirk with a scoff. “What’s this? I didn’t tell you to lay down - we aren’t here to make love, I’m here to fuck you.”

Your cheeks flush as you grit your teeth. He didn’t give you clear instructions, how the hell were you supposed to know what to do? The movement of your body as you adjust onto your hands and knees hopefully hides the way your eyes roll.

But Sukuna did not grow to be this powerful by being inattentive.

“Oh?” And there’s that same chuckle again. “For someone who’s about to be killed, you’re awfully presumptive.”

“My sincerest apologies, Lord Sukuna,” you manage to spit (the sincerity is lost from the words).

Everything becomes warm as he looms over you, hot skin pressing against yours. He smells like blood and smoke and violence, something in it making your legs tremble. He’s almost terrifying up close; he’s almost beautiful.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

His face is right next to yours now. You shake your head.

“You’re here to entertain me.”

When you don’t respond further, a large palm digs into your scalp, grabbing you by your hair to force your attention to his. Unenthusiastic eyes meet flaming ones.

“Okay?” You shouldn’t be speaking to him like this, you know you shouldn’t be speaking to him like this. He’s going to kill you. But maybe that’s the problem - when you know you’re going to die, there’s nothing left to lose. You were always taught to never corner a wounded animal. “Get it over with, then. Go on, entertain yourself.”

He smirks. You don’t stop.

“Fuck me, hurt me, do whatever the hell you want to me, but don’t expect me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. And certainly don’t expect me to plead for your mercy.”

If he was any closer, you’d flinch from the sheer volume of his laugh. Tears nearly prick at the corners of his eyes as his entire body shakes with utter glee. “Oh, my, I outdid myself with you, didn’t I?” he muses.

Finally, it’s your turn to be silent.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

A snarky remark sits on the tip of your tongue, but it’s held back by the cold grip of shock. For once, you’re speechless.

“I chose you,” he leans forward, close enough to catch the lingering flecks of blood across his skin, “because the stubborn ones are the most fun to break.”

The silk bedding is much less soft when your face is shoved into it. The firm hand on the back of your head pushes you forward, threatening to shred the remaining semblance of your dignity as you fall. It’s rough, the way he throws you down like nothing more than a doll, one he’s grown tired of playing with.

Scrambling to find him in your vision again, you feel him before you see him - four of those same giant palms resting on your hips.

He’s going to kill you.

When you expect pain, anything else is a pleasant surprise. Especially, it would seem, two fingers trailing between your legs.

“Are you always this pathetic?” he asks.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re fucking wet.” He’s not wrong, unfortunately, you know he’s not wrong, you can feel it in the way he circles his calloused digits over your clit. “Is me being cruel truly that appealing?”

Just as your lips part to retort, to spit back the poison he’s feeding you, the sound twists into a smokey moan as he slides into you.

“Hah. Thought so, fucking whore.”

He’s killed before. You’ve never seen it, but you’ve heard the screams, of course. He’s probably choked and stabbed more people than you have even known in your limited lifespan. Of course the hands of a killer would be powerful, but you never imagined they’d stretch you out quite like this. Perhaps the damage brought by them is transferred to your body with each curl towards your core, each rough motion pulling your muscles towards an uninviting goal.

But that means you can use that violence. You can contain it, redirect it, control it.

“I’m not a whore.”

“Oh? So sure?”

And then he’s pressing harder. Muscles start contracting, your legs start shaking.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

With white knuckles, you veer yourself away from the edge at the last moment.

Sukuna, of course, feels it.

“Don’t want to cum, little one?” His mock affection is almost sickeningly sweet on his tongue as he giggles. “So be it. Only making things harder for yourself.”

Those same calloused fingers are ripped from your cunt. Finally, you can take in a full breath.

Your lungs stop halfway through expanding when something else suddenly fills you.

A scream threatens to tear from your throat as the tip of his cock enters into you. Teeth bite into the flesh of your arm to stifle the sound, your eyes screwed shut. Everything goes red, the burning flames inside your chest igniting.

Behind you, Sukuna laughs.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle it, hm?”

There are marks on your skin from where your canines dug into it. You shake your head. “I-I can handle it.”

“Good.”

His hips pull back before slamming into you. Then it’s hands, everywhere - groping your chest, your ass, your hips, your stomach. Every part of you feels his palms, his flesh fighting with the air to contain your body.

Rough, unapologetic thrusts shake your frame. The muscles in your back strain to keep you upright, willing yourself to not collapse into the mattress beneath you, knowing that falling into the silk sheets holds the same fate as a grave.

One of his lower hands smacks your ass, the plump flesh rippling before long fingernails dig into it. “Perfect fuckin’ body,” Sukuna grumbles from behind you - if you were in any other setting, you would almost blush at the praise.

But now, all you can do is choke back a moan in response.

His movements are fast, but steady, you realize. The fog of your thoughts begins to clear, your clarity returning.

You can do this.

The ruby comforter folds in your grasp as you pull your palms into fists. Legs steady, arms ready.

The next time his cock bullies into you, you meet his thrusts. When he reaches deeper, it almost feels good.

So, you keep moving your hips in pace, pushing them flush against his pelvis each time. God, it feels fucking devine.

That breathy chuckle echoes behind you, one that never bodes well.

“Aw, does that feel good?” he coos, saccharine words dripping red from his lips.

You’re almost too gone to miss the sarcasm. “Y-yes.”

“Desperate little thing, you want more?”

Nails almost pierce the skin of your hips. You nod.

“Now, now, that’s no way to speak to me. Use your words.”

“Please,” you whine - you shouldn’t be doing this, you know you shouldn’t - “more, Lord S’kuna.”

You dug your grave, and the air of his laugh is enough to blow you forward into it.

One hand trails from your waist down to your ass, massaging it softly - the thunder before lightning. In an instant, sharp teeth bite into your skin. Hard.

You cry out, but he just giggles, the mouth that had formed on his palm gone in an instant.

Distracted by the sudden pain, your senses are too preoccupied to notice the way he continues his path down, until you feel something cold. Sukuna’s spit lands on your puckered hole, his thumb rubbing around the rim.

He’s going to fucking kill you.

Just as your lips part to protest, one thick finger pushes past the first ring of muscles inside you. Then two.

The moment you finally feel yourself beginning to relax, he pulls his hand away. It’s just as quickly replaced with something much, much bigger. The tip of his second cock is sticky with precum as it rests against your skin.

You knew Sukuna was not a patient man, but you had hoped he’d be gracious with you now.

The blood speckling his skin reminds you how foolish those hopes had been.

With one hand gripping his base, he slowly presses into you. On instinct, you attempt to squirm away, but his remaining arms wrap firmly around your torso, holding you in place.

“Wai-aah,” the sound garbles as you bite into your forearm, this time hard enough to pierce flesh. Your blood blends into the bedding.

Eyes screwed shut, you can’t see the sinister smirk painting his features, all four eyes fixed on where the two of you are connected.

“C’mon now,” he huffs, “a good little whore like you can take it, can’t you?”

A whine escapes your throat in denial, but it sounds more like an affirmation as it hits the air. Especially with the way your knees begin to buckle.

You feel every vein and ridge of his cocks as he slides out of you.

You feel nothing but ecstasy when he thrusts back in.

Everything is hot, your skin on fire. Shaky breaths rattle in your chest, shallow puffs of air through parted lips.

It’s too much, every muscle in your body held taught. The slick sound of his cocks pumping in and out of you fills the room, fills your mind.

And you can’t even think, can barely breathe, anymore. Your eyes roll back, tongue lolling from your mouth as you desperately pant.

“See, doesn’t it feel good to be my little cocksleeve?” he purrs from behind you - he’s not even out of breath despite the way his abs clench with each thrust. “Fuckin’ cunt was made for this.”

And something switches off in your brain, because there’s no other reasonable explanation for the words tumbling from your bruised and bitten lips. “F-feels good.”

He’s nothing short of shocked by your admission - but then again, he did set out with the goal of breaking you. A giddy smile blooms on his lips.

“Aw, what’s this? Already fucked dumb?” A rough palm gropes at your tits.

And a part of you knows you’re above this.

But that part went up in flames the moment Sukuna’s thick cocks ripped you apart, tearing you open and putting you back together in a shape of his liking.

“Mmhm,” you can barely nod, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth, but you’re in utterly no position to wipe it away, your hands preoccupied with gripping the bed sheets below, the fabric twisting between your fingers.

“So it’s true then - you’re just a fucking slut, hm?”

You’re better than this.

You’re smart. Determined. Strong.

“I’m - nnng - m’your slut.”

Pride tingles his nerves, fingers digging into your skin, sharpened nails leaving marks on your waist. With one deep thrust, you feel him in your throat and your vision is blurry and your muscles give out.

But Sukuna is always stronger.

Four arms hold your limp body as he continues fucking into you. Truly nothing more than a cocksleeve the way he’s using you, so small in his grasp, so powerless. And yet, your thighs are sticky and slick from just how wet you are.

Teeth prick at your back, your shoulders, your neck. Marked in bites and bruises, you’ve become his canvas, stained with his claim on you. Reds and pinks and purples bloom beneath your skin, painted in sharp canines and pointed nails. A signature left along your hips, up your spine - his.

Broken whines of his name get forced from your lungs with each thrust, the only sound besides his heavy balls slapping against your skin.

That fire begins to burn brighter in your core. You want to call it resentment, but you aren’t that naive, not anymore.

“Heh, is my little whore gonna cum from being used like this?”

At least his smirk is outside the realm of your perception, the only thing you feel being the ravenous push and pull of his cocks inside you, the tightness and burning pleasure they bring each time his tip pokes deeper and deeper.

You want to shake your head, you want to deny him, deny the effect he has on you.

But all you get out is a weak cry of “please,” before your skin erupts in flames. Your cunt spasms around him, everything going red.

He pumps into you six more times before both of his cocks twitch in unison, unloading sticky ropes impossibly deep into your aching holes. He growls as he does, muscles rippling under the strain of his conquest.

When he releases you, your body collapses onto the damp sheets below. Cheek squished into the maroon, it all bleeds into itself, until you can’t tell where the bed ends and Sukuna begins. It’s only when you feel it shift from the lack of his weight that you know he’s gone.

Everything hurts. Everything is too hot. Everything feels so fucking good.

You should feel shame, you think - you should hate yourself for the way he used you, broke you. He tore your strength away with bloodied teeth until you were weak and limp. Maybe it’s the slow pulsing that lingers between your legs, but you can’t bring yourself to resent it - it was a battle well fought (and victory takes many forms, after all).

But the thing is, you are strong.

With a muffled groan, you shift your weight closer to the edge, the remnants of Sukuna’s claim lingering on your body in scratches and bruises, burning desire.

“You may collect your things, someone will be in-”

When his gaze falls upon you, he freezes where he stands in the corner of his chambers, robe half-draped over his broad shoulders.

You’re wobbly as you stand, cum leaking down your thighs, ruffled hair and unfocused eyes, but he recognizes something in them, a fire he would call strength.

And Sukuna smiles. Not the condescending smirk of a man pitying his captive, but one of respect. He crosses two pairs of arms over his chest.

“What’s this?” he mutters to himself. “Well then, Uraume will be in to help you bathe.”

“Bathe?” You use all the remaining air in your chest to keep your voice from sounding weak. “Before you kill me?”

There’s that giggle again, but the sharpness to it has dulled slightly, in a way you would hesitantly call fondness. “Oh, I won’t be killing you.” Turning, he brushes the thought away with a wave of his hand. “You’ve proven yourself to be quite entertaining, and I’d be a fool to discard such a fun little whore.” But there’s no bite to the words as he says it.

Your legs feel steadier as you stand.

“I expect to see you in my chambers tomorrow, understood?”

Crimson irises catch the flickering candlelight.

You refuse to bow.

Sharpened teeth poke between a smirk.

“Of course, Lord Sukuna.”

[sugurouge]

— playground : umemiya hajime x f!reader x endo yamato

summary: idk, i wanted them together, here we are. nothing more but a depraved lil drabble

wc: 1k

content warnings! nsfw, teasing, degradation, both are rather condescending here, hair pulling, threesome, blowjob, manhandling, petnames, rough sex, dumbification, asphyxiation, somewhat dacryphilia

“Don’t be selfish now,” Endo chides with a hint of irritation, gently grasping your chin to direct your attention back to him. “You wanted to share, yet you’re all over Ume.” His jealousy prompts you to shift slightly in Hajime's lap, to face the dark haired man instead and cradle his pretty face, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Yet Yamato can be greedy, too greedy whenever something tastes absolutely divine. His mouth now latches onto your neck, firm hands on your hips pull you onto his own lap, to grind your throbbing pussy against his cock, as his lips destroy your skin. Umemiya's chuckle fans over your slightly damp neck as he busies himself with an exploration of your figure, his fingers run over the sheer fabric of your blouse, popping one button after another and exposing your bra to their hungry gazes.

The stark contrast between his cool touch and your heated skin sends shivers down your spine. However, Ume's teasing pales in comparison to Endo's urgent advances, guiding your hands to unfasten his belt as he deftly caresses the damp fabric of your panties before riding you of the useless scrap of fabric.

Of course, he fucks you first, guiding your ass to take a seat on his thighs as he helps you settle down on his overly excited cock. You’re pressed against his chest with big palms resting on your tummy and squeezing your tits.

The sight in front has Hajime question his sanity, never would he have expected to enjoy watching you get absolutely ruined by someone else. The blush on his cheeks nearly radiates as he has to keep his own excitement in check, fisting along his erection for some desperate measure of relief.

Teeth graze the nape of your neck while you part your lips and loll your tongue out to get a taste of Hajime's pre-cum. He drags the dripping head over your glossy lips, the mess he creates makes you even prettier.

But the devil behind your shoulder bounces your frame on his lap with ease, forcing you to welcome Ume in the back of your throat with no warning. You clench around Endo, nails scratching over Hajime's pecks and thighs for leverage as tears brim your eyes. You should have known that Endo is an impatient bastard. “Not so greedy, pretty girl” Ume groans, yet a big grin forces its way on his face, the satisfaction you present him with too good to feel bad for you.

Muffled cries of objection send tingles over Ume's skin, a mixture of your saliva and his arousal leaking from your mouth while he loses himself in bliss. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy little vixen, ain’t you?” Endo murmurs, sounding almost upset—yet intrigued, you definitely need to suck him off as well.

Moans escape you, vibrating around Hajime's cock, before it all gets a little too much. The stretch in the back of your throat causes a panic to stir in your mind. Yet the attempts of pulling back only push you further into Endo. He grins. “No, no, kitten, give him all you’ve got before you suck me like your favourite lolly,” Yamato murmurs in your ear, his hand tangling in your hair and pushing you further onto Ume's cock until your lips meet his pelvis. Your eyes roll back as desperate whimpers are lost in their fervent groans.

It's a game of push and pull, two pairs of hands all over your body to hold you in positions perfect for their own selfish desires.

“Up you go, pretty thing,” Endo drawls, large hands grasp your hips to hoist you off his lap and shove you further into Umemiya until you're on all fours. The latter ensures your lips remain around his cock, his blunt nails digging into your scalp as he revels in your choking sounds. The position is uncomfortable for you, effectively constricting your airway, causing your throat and cunt to clench around their cocks as their pace quickens. A calloused hand massages your cheek, before lacing around your throat, to make breathing just a tad bit more difficult. Your mind is spinning, ears ringing, yet both guys are too caught up in their needs to worry for you.

But you enjoy this. Sick girl. As your climax approaches, your fingers paw against Ume's thighs, overwhelmed by Endo's cock deep within your fluttering walls, you finally free yourself. “‘M cumming, please,” you mewl. Yet instead of having mercy, Yamato tugs on your hair, forcing you to meet steel blue eyes, Hajime's gaze is almost drowning in your fucked-out expression until Endo's movements slow to shallow thrusts.

“So you ruin my pleasure because you’re only thinking with your pussy?” Umemiya grumbles, his words and irritation catch you off guard. Your eyes wide in shock, since you've never heard him talk like that before. But the electrifying spank to your clit wales you from your shock. Endo's fingers rub lazy circles around your nub, pinching you offer no answer to Umemiya's complaint.

“I-I’m sorry, Haji, really sorry!” Your tear-streaked cheeks and sobbing voice draw a sigh from Umemiya. “Silly girl, time to turn around.” Their synchronised actions are intimidating; barely able to face Endo as he already pulls you towards his glistening cock while Umemiya's nails drag over the plush of your ass and back. “Take it all,” the dark haired man urges.

As you bend over to take Yamato's cock—your jaw deliberately slack—Ume positions himself between your legs. His hands push down on the small of your back, presenting your ass perfectly as your core drips down your inner thighs. With a swift, commanding thrust, he enters you deeply, his hips snapping fervently against you. Each powerful push drives him closer to his climax, his desperation fuelled by the sight of Endo finishing on your tongue.

You're too pretty to not have your face covered in cum, he thinks to himself.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[angstinyourpants]

holy shit i love dumbification <3 i want to forget everything besides how my boycunt feels when someone fucks me, to be rendered a drooling idiot by cock. i dont need to think, im made to be fucked. i need someone to think for me, to train me and tell me exactly what to do. they could just squeeze my thighs and render me completely thoughtless, whimpering under their hands. a sex toy doesnt need to worry or feel humiliated, it just needs to be filled and fucked mercilessly~

[hanasnx]

You get all prettied up to go break up with your lover, ANAKIN SKYWALKER, because things have gotten too complicated. You’re not sure why you did it, showering and shaving chin to toe, applying your best scents and most expensive makeup, wearing your most form fitting outfit— a personal favorite of his. Maybe it’s to let him down easy in some way, give him something nice to look at while you break it off. He doesn’t take it well; the event ends with his dick bullying it’s way into your wet cunt, rearranging your insides. Teaching you to try to leave him, as if he’d let you, as if you’d last past a day without begging for this cock. How easy it was to flip you over and take what he wants, all because you’re that desperate for him to. That's why you got all dressed up, isn't it? Came all this way to taunt him with what he can't have? What did you think was gonna happen? Don't be stupid, are you stupid? Yes, yes you are. A dumb little hole, who else is gonna want you if you pull stupid stunts like this? This was a ploy for attention. Now trails of wet makeup stain your cheeks, your hair a ratted mess. You wanted to feel special dangling it over his head. Don't worry, angel, he'll fuck that need right out of you.

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

Idea based on a DELICIOUS ask that I will be writing something for soon but for now have this word vomit:

Aether (consensually) using quintosis to make his partners all sweet and dumb for him. Just pumps them so full of quintessence that they melt into pretty little playthings for him.

Swiss pawing at his cunt and whining because he can’t remember how to touch himself. Mountain’s little tail wagging as Aeth guides his mouth onto his cock. Cirrus becoming an uncharacteristically needy puddle at his lightest touch. Dew drooling all over and choking on his fingers, unable to string words together much less ask for what he wants. Cumulus chirping and cooing sweetly as he preens the pretty feathers on her chest while teasing her nipples.

Yeah. Quintosis and dumbification!!!

[qininqinin]

I can see Color subtly dominating the relationship — and I’m not talking about the intimate aspects, no, no, no…

I'm talking about the everyday interactions; his small gestures that make you submit almost effortlessly to him.

Like the way he keeps a hand gently placed on your back, guiding you through the streets. Or how he decides what you'll eat on your dates (and almost every time he would remember you to hydrate yourself).

His constant praise, like "good girl," "that's my girl," or "such a clever girl," each time you do something well (especially when it's something he's asked of you to do).

And the way he adjusts your helmet when you ride on his motorcycle with him, your arms always safely wrapping up on his waist.

Before you even realize it, you find yourself completely under his influence, hardly thinking for yourself when you're with him. After all, why think when Color's already made the best decisions for you? Why go against him?

[frenchfrywrites]

CODE y69

MINORS DNI

Warnings: amab gn top dom(ish) living human reader, trans man bottom zombie Vil Schoenheit, monster(fucker) au, monsterfucking, medical play, roleplay, breeding kink, lots of drool, vil goes nonverbal, slight dumbification

Words used for Vil: pussy, cunt, tits, hole, clit. Mention of him having a period and getting pregnant

The sound of the door to Vil's bedroom opening softly tears his attention away from his vanity.

"Ah, sorry," he stares through the mirror at his door, where the doctor– he gathers from the white coat and stethoscope– he arranged a house visit with stands awkwardly in the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?" You ask, setting down your bag of medical devices and instruments on Vil’s bed.

"No," he’s quick to answer, capping the tube of lipstick he'd been applying and standing to greet you. Both of you size one another up as Vil sluggishly crosses the room. You’re handsome in the long white lab coat, undoubtedly so, and if he had the blood to do so, Vil thinks he might feel flushed. The mild anxiety he typically finds himself having when he’s among the living settles in, and he feels the urge to preen and reapply his makeup.  

The two of you exchange introductions, and Vil notes that your hand feels so nice and warm when it shakes his, before you ask him to make himself comfortable on his bed. Vil sits himself down as gracefully as possible as you open your bag “I almost thought I had the wrong patient,” you offer him a bashful smile, applying hand sanitizer to your hands, then tugging on some gloves. “You looked so alive,” and your admission earns you a soft laugh from Vil. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles quietly. After his untimely demise Vil's tried his best to cover his dead skin, the chunks of missing flesh, and his vacant eyes. He appreciates his efforts being recognized. 

“Alright, let’s just jump right in, yeah?!” you give him a wide smile, “can you tell me your first and last name? And your date of birth?” Vil tells you the information easily. “And when did you become undead?”

“A couple of months ago,” he hopes you don’t pry much more than that. It’s not something he likes to dwell on.

“Great! Do you remember the last physical you had when you were alive?” you ask carefully, rummaging around in your bag.

Vil doesn’t remember much from before his death. He has people he knows- or knew- tell him things about himself, but most of what they tell him feels blurry and out of reach.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you say when he hasn’t responded in a while. He hums- and it sounds a bit too close to the sluggish groan he’s heard from older zombies for his liking- and anxiously flattens the wrinkles on his skirt. 

“This will be a bit different from an exam that an alive person might experience, but that’s why you called me in the first place,” you ramble as you put on a pair of gloves. 

“I’m going to skip over taking your blood pressure and checking your heart, for obvious reasons,” you tell him, standing next to where he’s seated. Suddenly, you press yourself into Vil’s personal space, 

“Can I touch you Mr. Schoenheit?” and logically Vil knows his heart has stopped beating for a long time, but he feels like it flutters in his chest all the same.

“Yes,” he consents, trying his best to not sound breathless. You take his head in your hands, feeling around his skull. 

“You have lovely hair Mr. Schoenheit,” it’s an offhand comment, but it makes Vil feel like he’s on cloud nine. 

“Thank you,” he practically whispers as you gently touch the back of his neck. 

“Good,” you step back and Vil tries not to follow your touch, “looking great! I’m going to ask you to make some facial expressions with me now, so I can see how your muscles are working.”

Vil nods, folding his hands in his lap. 

“Could you frown for me?” he does as he’s told, “then smile? Then puff your cheeks?” distantly, Vil remembers that people have told him he was in movies when he was alive; a memory of acting exercises comes back to him faintly as he moves his face through various expressions.

“Hm, I can see that the muscles on the right side of your face are still quite stiff,” Vil’s face falls at the news, “hey, it’s alright!” you caress his right cheek gently, massaging the muscle by his jaw gently. Even though your hand is gloved, Vil can still feel the heat radiating off your flesh all the same. He feels hungry. “Anyone who is not specifically looking for it would not notice, I promise,” you reassure. “Now can you open your mouth for me?” 

Vil drops his jaw and it cracks a bit, leaving his mouth open just a bit wider than a living being would be capable of. That’s not true, he corrects himself, knowing that the naga can open their mouths nearly twice as more as he can. 

“Oh Mr. Schoenheit what lovely teeth you have!” you joke, and despite himself, Vil laughs. “Seriously, you have a full set! Many of my clients would dream of having your mouth,” you muse, running your fingers along his teeth. The urge to wrap his lips around your fingers and suck is overwhelming, but somehow Vil finds it in himself to resist it. He thinks you must be a little stupid, even if you are a doctor, for putting your fingers in a flesh-eaters mouth. Slipping your fingers from his mouth you reach into your bag and grab a wooden depressor. 

With your free hand you grab a small flashlight from your breast pocket, and press the wooden stick against his tongue. 

“Say ahhh,” you instruct. The noise that comes out of Vil is closer to that of a moan, but you don’t comment on that. You press the depressor further back and he gags. With a look of surprise you pull away from him, removing the depressor from his mouth as you do. 

“Sorry, did that hurt?” you ask curiously. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. 

“It wasn’t so bad,” he confesses. Your eyes widen just a fraction, but Vil takes note of it. Turning back to your bag you take out an otoscope, “We’re going to check your eyes and ears next, you haven’t noticed any vision or hearing loss, have you?” Vil shakes his head, thankful that so much of his body continues to function.

“Can you look at…” you trail off, glancing behind you at his wall, “the calendar back there for me?” He looks at it as you flash the light into his eyes. “Ah, are you wearing contacts?” you ask after a moment. Vil hesitates to answer, but eventually nods, “I’m sorry Mr. Schoenheit, but I need you to take those out.”

With a sigh Vil makes quick work of removing the colored contacts- or as quick as he can be with the body he inhabits now. Trying his best not to pout he lets you take a good look at his glossed over, foggy eyes. 

“You’ve got very pretty eyes Mr. Schoenheit,” you say as you pull away, “pretty and they're doing everything that eyes should be doing!” Vil huffs, 

“Flattery will get you everywhere doctor.” You manuver Vil's head so you can look into his ear, brushing his hair back to get a better look and further exposing his expression. 

“I’m already alone in your room with you Mr. Schoenheit,” you whisper, moving to look at the other ear, “how much more will flattery get me?” you muse. Vil is so glad his body can no longer blush, because he thinks he’d be as red as a tomato if he were living. 

“Ah,” he goes to say something but before he can come up with anything, you’re moving onto the next thing. Feeling a little dumbstruck he watches you take off the stethoscope around your neck, and put it on. 

“I’m going to take a listen to your lungs now, is that alright?” Vil nods, so you continue. “Would you please lift your shirt a bit?” With slightly shaking hands (the excitement of having you so close is having an apparent effect on him) he lifts his blouse for you. Sliding your hand under the fabric, you press the cold metal to his chest, and Vil gasps. 

“Sorry,” you whisper in his ear, not sounding very apologetic. “Can you take a deep breath for me?” Vil does his best, trying to sound relaxed and calm, even when he feels the opposite. “Sounds good!” and within a blink of an eye you’re gone. 

After stuffing away your stethoscope you turn to Vil, “right, so next we’re going to- oh,” you stop mid sentence, staring at his chest. Vil looks down, trying to see what you could be looking at, only to find that his nipples are hard. Shame washes over him, and he tries his best to cover himself, but you stop him, sitting next to him on the bed.

“It’s okay! I’m sorry I had such an unprofessional reaction, it’s just I don’t see that often with my patients,” you rub his shoulder comfortingly and Vil slowly drops his arms. 

“Can I take a look?” You ask after a moment. Vil tucks his hair behind his ear, nodding slowly. Your hand falls from Vil’s shoulder to the hem of his shirt. As you tug it upwards you expose more of his skin. 

There are small patches of decay, some skin that’s been stitched back together, and on his left side some of his ribs are exposed. With your other hand you thumb over one of his nipples, and Vil lets out a soft gasp. He feels so good having you touch him that any insecurity he’d normally have about the rotting, peeling flesh previously covered by his shirt is flung out the window.

“Did that hurt?” and Vil feels tingly all over at the quiet rumbling sound of your voice.

“No doctor,” he breathes, his breath hitching when you rub your thumb over it again. 

“Feels good, Mr. Schoenheit?” you check, not giving Vil any relief as you continue to rub circles around his nipple.  

Not trusting his voice, Vil nods, blinking slowly as waves of pleasure work their way through his body. 

And as quickly as it started, it’s over. You pull back, and much to Vil’s humiliation, he can’t help but lean forward and try to chase your touch. 

“Ah,” he makes a soft noise as his brain catches up. Part of him wishes to beg for more, but his pride stops him.

“Are you having other reactions, Mr. Schoenheit?” you ask softly. Vil rubs his legs together as he focuses,

“Yes doctor,” he answers honestly. Your smile widens at that,

“Amazing,” you praise, “can I see?” Vil lets out a low groan at that. Instead of using his words, Vil takes the hem of his skirt, and lifts it so you can see his soaked panties. Vil can’t help but grin when your warm touch returns to his chilled body as you gently run your fingers from his clit to his hole. 

“Such a responsive, functional body,” you hum in his ear, and Vil clumsily jerks his hips into your touch, clutching desperately at his skirt. 

“May I take a closer look Mr. Schoenheit?” 

“Yes please, doctor,” Vil moans, his words slurring together. You slide off the bed, and between Vil’s decayed thighs. Your hands tug at the top of his panties, and with some combined effort, the two of you manage to take them off him. 

“Oh look at you,” you coo, using two gloved fingers to peel apart his pussy lips. The heat from your body, even with a layer of gloves between the two of you, feels scalding against his frigid skin. It makes him want to melt into you. He clutches tightly at the fabric of his skirt, putting all his energy there so he doesn’t reach out to touch you. 

"Ah," Vil gasps softly when your finger begins to slowly rub circles onto his clit. 

“I bet that feels good, doesn’t it,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, but he doesn’t seem to care, and instead nods dumbly. Looking up at him, you take note of how Vil’s eyes go in and out of focus as he watches you play with his cunt.

It takes a while for him to notice, but Vil eventually sees the hard to ignore tent in your pants. Within the moment that he notices your hard-on, you slip a finger inside of him, and he jerks violently, letting out a long, guttural moan. 

“I want to see if the muscles here are working correctly,” you explain, though you doubt he’s even listening to you.

Vil opens up nicely around your fingers, producing more than enough slick to accommodate the intrusions. His clit took a while to get erect, but it now stands proudly, twitching and aching for attention. While fucking him slowly with two fingers, you use your thumb to play with it. This draws a groan from out of Vil. You doubt he’d appreciate being told so, but it’s the kind of groan that’s classic of his zombie kind. 

“Unnngh,” he moans, “g’nna uhmm,” and there’s just enough consonants and vowels for you to put together what he’s trying to say. You pull back, refusing him of the orgasm that was so steadily approaching. 

“Wuh?” he blinks slowly, and you watch as his pussy attempts to clench around nothing. “Huh, please,” Vil groans breathlessly when he finally processes that you’re no longer touching him. 

“It looks like your ability to self lubricate is working perfectly. I wonder though, Mr. Schoenheit, do you still get your period?” you ask, removing your white coat and gloves.

“No, doctor,” Vil replies after a moment, entranced with watching you undress. 

“Then I suppose the only way we’d be able to tell if you’re able to get pregnant or not is by having me fuck your womb full of cum,” Vil nods along, though he questions your logic. He’ll agree with whatever you say if it means you’ll fuck him. 

You reach into your bag, and after a moment of rustling around, pull out a vial of lube.

Laying back, he spreads his legs wider, making room for you to join him on the bed. He makes a pretty picture, with his skirt bunched around his hips, and his shirt pulled up to show off his tits. You tell him as much,

“You look so good,” you praise, and Vil preens, smiling and spreading his legs wider. You make yourself comfortable between his thighs, massaging his stiff muscles gently. Fumbling a bit, you open the lube, and lather your cock. Vil doesn’t mind the slight lull in action, instead focusing his energy on reaching up and linking his arms around your neck to pull you close. 

He moans when he feels the tip of your cock press against his hole. Vil feels like he’s never been more alive as he feels your tip press into him. He knocks his head back against his pillow, arching his back as you slowly push yourself into him. 

“There we go,” you coo, rubbing his hips and thighs lovingly when you’re balls deep inside of him. “How’re you feeling Mr. Schoenheit? Any pain? Any discomfort?” you check in, because Vil looks fucked dumb already. 

“Guh-” he groans, then mumbles to himself. You wait patiently, and finally he forms a coherent sentence, “good, you feel- good,” he whines, his mascaraed lashes squeezing shut. His words divulge into mumbles and groans as he tries to tell you about how deep your cock is inside of him, and how hot you feel.

Slowly, you start to move your hips, fucking him nice and deep to make sure he’s properly adjusted to the intrusion before you take it up a notch. Vil practically melts into the bed beneath him, weakly holding onto you, his pussy clenching and twitching around you every so often. 

“You feel so good,” you tell him softly, “ah, so tight,” you groan. Vil keens, and then instead of using his words- which he seems to have lost already- he tries his best to work his hips back against yours. You let out a breathless laugh, “faster already?” and Vil nods, letting out a pathetic whine.

“I’ve got you darling,” you coo, easily picking up the pace. He lets out a pleased moan, settling back down and returning to laying like a corpse under you. 

“Just- ah- lay back and let me fuck you baby, you don’t ngh have to think at all, let me do all the work, sweet thing,” he nods dumbly at your instructions. 

“Shit,” you breathe, fucking him so hard that his tits bounce with each thrust. Your hand fumbles around for a second before coming in contact with Vil’s clit. When you begin to rub at it as you fuck him, Vil cries out, his mouth falling open with a loud click, and his clouded eyes rolling into his skull. He clenches like a vice around you, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he may have cum.

Drool begins to pool from his mouth as you play with his clit, and he lets out weak groans when you thrust him particularly hard or deep. 

“I’m close,” you strain, because god you think you could get off just from looking at him, and the way he’s fluttering and clenching around you only gets you closer and closer to climax. Vil babbles something incomprehensible, drool continuing to fall from his mouth, puddling on the pillow and sheets beneath him, and thoroughly slicking his chin. 

One of his hands falls from where it’s been wrapped around your neck, and rubs at his belly. Your hips stutter as you catch his drift, 

“Fuck, yeah, ‘m gonna cum inside you Vil, gonna get you pregnant, gonna fill your womb, ungh, you want that?” he nods, his clit twitching under your fingers. 

“Cum with me- Vil- c’mon baby,” you feel like you’re teetering on a cliff edge, just moments away from coming face to face with your orgasm. 

He falls first, his groan of your name getting stifled as he slaps an arm over his mouth, squirting on your cock as you fuck him through it. You cum not long after, keeping your promise and snapping your hips flush against his as you pump him full of your cum. 

You stay seated inside Vil until he weakly pinches your skin with his other hand, a nonverbal cue that your fingers on his clit and your cock inside him are making him sore with overstimulation. Pulling out you take a second to watch your cum ooze out of his pussy. If he hadn’t communicated that he was sore, you wouldn’t hesitate to get your head between his thighs and clean him up with your mouth. 

Instead you flop down next to him, and take his cold body into your warm embrace. Vil removes his arm from covering his messy mouth, and snaps his jaw back into place. His eyes go unfocused as he looks at you next to him, and moving on instinct, he goes for your neck. His teeth just barely graze your skin before he realizes what he’s doing and resists the urge to devour you. Instead, Vil kisses your neck as an apology before pulling back.

Now that there's a bit of space between the two of you, you can get a good look at him. Vil looks properly fucked, his lipstick smudged, his mouth slick and sticky with drool, his mascara running slightly, his hair all out of place.

You can’t help but lean in and give him a loving kiss. Vil kisses back weakly, humming a tad mournfully against your lips. You think he’s probably still upset about nearly letting his monstrous inclinations take over. Through the kiss you try to convey that you trust him and love him. When you pull back there's a comfortable silence between the two of you for a brief second.

“Next time, I want to be the doctor,” Vil finally speaks, his voice rough and fried. You laugh, nuzzling into him, and pulling the comforter over the two of you. 

“Ooh I like that, can you be all fascinated and awed with my living body?” you prompt, causing Vil to crack a smile. 

“I think I could, at the very least, act like I would be “fascinated and awed”” he mimics you playfully. You laugh loudly, kissing him between giggles. 

“Whatever you say, Dr. Shoenheit,” you tease, kissing him again before he can get the last word in.

[angstinyourpants]

ur drop out x professor idea is actually so hot because usually that trope is set up like student gets fucked by prof to increase their grade but what if i nod and smile and say oh yeah of course and then after fucking you and making you walk home all full i just lower your grade theres only 5 letter grades it doesnt take long before youre flunking. but hey you dont want anyone to know right? so keep pretending to come to class and suck my off under the desk. you know how dumb you are

at some point, itll be such a relief to just admit im a dumb slut, that i was always meant to be fucked and used. soon id just be failing all my classes, completely focused on being a plaything and worshipping you under your desk. its a burden lifted, knowing i dont have to try and get an education, i was never meant to have one. a doll doesnt need one.

[stupidlilgir1]

shove a dildo into my pussy and a plug in my ass, then let’s go for a long car drive and watch as my brain slowly melts as we hit potholes or rough sections of the road and i’m forced to bounce on the dildo

[frenchfrywrites]

Kinktober Day 15

Feminization

MINORS DNI

Warnings: gn genitals ambiguous dom reader (implied usage of cock/strap), sub Ashton Vargas, feminization, hinted (?) dumbification, vargas has a small dick

"Pretty girl," you praise, taking Ashton's little cock into your fist.

He arches his back at the simulation, showing off his tits. The lingerie he started the night wearing has long been tugged up for you to suck and bite at his massive chest. Now his nipples are red and puffy from you playing with them until he was breathless and begging for more.

"Your little clit got so hard from me sucking on your tits," Ashton moans wantonly at your words, jerking and squirming under your touch. You've tugged off the cute panties he was wearing, appreciating the way his dick tented them before tossing them elsewhere in favor of touching his skin.

"Want me to eat you out?" you ask. Ashton nods so quickly you wonder if he'll get whiplash.

"Please, please, want that, I need it, I want it, want you to eat me out, please, please," he babbles, pre bubbling from his tip.

"Okay sugar, settle down," you tug on his cock roughly, and Ashton gasps loudly. Then, sweetly, you place a little kiss at his tip. He moans, then squeals when you lick away the pre and wrap your lips around him. You lick, suck, then swallow his cock fully into your mouth. It's not hard to fit Ashton entirely into your mouth, and suck him off proper.

"Feels good, oh, oh you're really good, making me feel so so good, thank you, fuck, fuh-oh, thank you," you moan around his cock and Ashton keens. His massive thighs clamp around your head, pressing your face into his hairy groin. "Ah, I'm gonna cum, you-you're gonna make me cum, can I? Oh, can I?" he gasps.

You're only semi surprised by how long (or rather short) he's lasted. Your lover has a habit of finishing quickly, especially when your mouth is on him. You look up at Ashton, all flushed and fucked dumb, and flutter your lashes, swallowing and sucking tightly around his dick. When you press your finger teasingly against Ashton's hole, he shudders and spills into your mouth.

"Ungh yes," he gurgles dumbly, going limp under your touch as he submits himself to his climax. You swallow his cum down, pinching his thigh to unwrap it from your head when he goes soft in your mouth.

"Hey sweet girl," you mumble, your voice rough and used, "I'm gonna fuck this tight cunt next," you promise, pressing your finger against his hole.

"Please," he whines, and you can't wait to fuck him until he can't form a coherent thought.

[stickypowder]

Trigger warning: Blood, violence, cannibalism, dumbification, pet play, drugging, obsession

Word count: 1.4k

It's just a small thing that kinda spiraled out of my control as i wrote it. I hope people like it! And sorry for any grammer mistakes!

Ao3 link if you'd rather read it there:

To add to this, I'd like to imagine the scenario as caitlyn being separated from her enforcer squad deep into Zaun. Jinx has been stalking her (because that's what nemesis do, right?) and watches as caitlyn gets into a gnarly shoot out with some random chembaron gang. Caitlyn fights off most of them but gets snuck up on and gets fatally injured. Jinx goes mental that her nemesis was hurt by someone who wasn't her, so she kills that person off brutally next to a dying caitlyn on the floor. She'd get up and dust herself (and the blood of this random person) off her hands before walking over and standing above a dying caitlyn.

She'd look her over and say, "Jeeeeezzz toots, do I always have to save your ass?" Caitlyn would just look up at her and try to say anything, but would only wheeze and cough in return. Jinxes eyes would widen as she realizes that "oh wow, caitlyn is dying right now, in front of me, on the ground." She'd pat her pockets to look for anything that could stop her from dying (because wanting your nemesis that wants you dead to stay alive is totally normal), and then a light bulb goes off. She grabs a knife off of caitlyns form and slashes her hand, causing it to bleed heavily.

Jinx would smile and bring her dripping hand over to caitlyn and say, "Open up cupcake, doctors orders!" Caitlyn would groan and shake her head no, so jinx would snarl and force caitlyns mouth open with her free hand and drip feed her blood into caitlyns mouth. To caitlyn, it's disgusting at first. The metallic overwhelming iron taste, but then all that shimmer starts to make her feel divine, better than she's ever felt. The wounds on her body would seal up quickly as she sits up with a gasp, pushing jinx away, causing jinx to fall down.

Jinx would roll her eyes and say, "Well, that's no way to thank the girl who saved your life, or did your mommy and daddy not teach you manners? Oh wait, mommies dead!", while rolling on the floor dying of laughter. Caitlyn would look around for her sniper rifle but finds it nowhere. She grabs the still bloody knife and sheaths it. She'd move to apprehend jinx, but Jinx would just use her shimmer speed to move away. She'd wipe a tear from her eye and say mid chuckle, "Alright, I get it, jeezzz. A girl can't even save her nemesis these days. Anyways, see yah later cupcake!" As she zips away.

Caitlyn angrily grumbles to herself before she heads back topside, though with a strange pep in her step. She would make her way back to her mansion and sleep better than she has in months, not that she notices. Over the week, though, her energy and mood would just get worse and worse. She finds herself sleeping horribly now, and she craves something that she can't quite put her tongue on. When she's sorting through the evidence locker room in the enforcer station, she'd eye a vial of shimmer.

Strange, she'd think, since she's never found her eye attracted to it before, and they've been confiscating it for years. But she's desperate for anything to help her sleep. So, she uncorked it and dipped a pinky finger in, bringing it to her lips. She gets a rush, but not the rush that every shimmer addict they arrest describes. She downs the whole thing and barely feels a thing, as a matter of fact!

Horrible sleep again that night, but the next day, they have her arrive to another one of jinxes attacks. They let her be by herself as she investigated since she's been so snappy, and as she walks through the scene, she steps into a puddle of blood. She takes a step back, and she swears the blood has a pink sheen to it. Her mouth starts to salivate uncontrollably, and before she knows it, she crouches down and dips a pinky into it, bringing it to her mouth. The instant smile that hits her face and the weight of everyone just falls off her shoulders.

Before she knows it, she fully kneels down and starts to drink from the puddle like an animal. By the time she pulls back, the puddle is gone, and she feels amazing! Then she realizes she just drank the blood of another human and promptly crawls back and away from it in horror. She'd think to herself, "What the hell!? I'm the head of the kiramman house, the best shot in all the enforcers, and the best detective! But not only did I ruin the scene by tampering with it, I drank from a puddle of blood!"

She would shakily stand up and walk away, telling everyone that this was just another normal scene created by Jinx and that she found no notable evidence. Though they don't mention anything of the manic smile she has while talking about this because they'd rather not be fired. She sleeps like a baby that night, but the next day, she feels horrible again. She gets informed of an ongoing fight with jinx, and she heads there immediately (ignoring the excitement brewing in her chest). Jinx laughs as she notices her and runs down an alleyway by herself, and caitlyn gives chase.

Jinx would laugh as she was chased, saying, "Well, nice to see you too, cupcake! Did you miss me?" Caitlyn would snarl in response and toss her sniper away and grab her knife. She doesn't know why she feels the need to make jinx bleed, but she has to. They'd get into a heated fight, and as caitlyn wrestles Jinx to the floor, she knicks jinxes cheek, causing it to bleed. She freezes while straddling her as jinx pants beneath her.

Before either of them realize it, caitlyn leans down and starts to lick it off of jinxes face. Jinx would giggle and say, "Woah! Down girl! Bad dog, bad dog!"

Caitlyn would pull back, panting and her pupils blown wide as she stammers out, "I... I don't know why I did that..." Jinx would look up at her and realize that caitlyn acted the exact same when she fed her blood to caitlyn.

Jinx would laugh and say, "I ever tell you why I'm so fast and can heal so quick?"

Caitlyn would respond with, "No...?"

Jinx would take the knife out of caitlyns hands and slash her hand again as she says, "I'm made up of shimmer, cupcake. My body produces it on its own now. And I think...", lifting up her palm to caitlyn, "That you're addicted to it. To me. Or maybe you aren't. Don't lick it up if that's the case. Prove me wrong." Caitlyns mouth would dry at the sight before she leans into jinxes palm and laps it up hungrily. Jinx would smile and say, "Aww... whose a good pup? That's right, you are!"

Caitlyns brain would sing to her at jinxes praise before she nodded to agree. Jinx would push against caitlyn and say, "Now get off of me, dummy." Caitlyn would nod and get up off of her, even going as far to help jinx up. Jinx would cup caitlyns cheek and say, "How's my pup feeling? Feeling good? Happy? Ecstatic?"

Caitlyn would nod with a dumb smile and say meekly, "Pup feels good. Feels really good."

Jinx would pat her cheek and pull it away as she says, "Atta girl. You know what? I think this worked out real well for us, cupcake. Real well indeed."

The enforcers would never find caitlyn after that. Of course, they didn't know that caitlyn was living down in zaun with Jinx in her workshop. Cait would help Jinx improve all her weaponry and explosives and tell her how the enforcers operated. In return, jinx would praise her and feed her her own blood. If caitlyn wasn't fed every couple of hours, she'd get feisty and irritable (much to jinxes amusement and dismay, not that she really minds). But when she was fed? She was the happiest woman in all of piltover and zaun. Sure, her girlfriend/nemesis/pseudo owner caused chaos and destruction, and she wasn't allowed to leave the workshop, but she made caitlyn happy and high, and wasn't that all that matters at this point?

[krikoxo]

I cant be the only femdom that can’t get enough of seeing their boy toys cry. There genuinely is nothing better than seeing them get all teary eyed. And the way they go to you for comfort, their head on your chest as you scratch their scalp, ugh I’m getting excited just thinking about it….