#this man just pulled his pants down to prove to his boss that he's still fine

[justalittlebluetiefling]

The problem is that if I know a character has a tragic storyline, I will latch onto them so hard that I will never recover.

[mellowsadistic]

“What are you doing, baby?”

Ashley rolled her eyes as she lifted her legs into the air. “What does it look like I’m doing, Daddy? I’m getting ready for you to change my nappy."

"You don't need changing just yet, little girl," her Daddy said, trying to sound firm. "Why don't you go back to playing with your friends, sweetie? You're only a bit soggy, and the other girls all look wet too."

Ashley gave him a sour look. "I don't care if their nappies are dragging along the ground, Daddy. I want to be changed now."

"Honey, please..."

After the new laws came into place stripping women of their adult rights and privileges, most of those with bossy temperaments underwent quick and significant changes in their attitudes - often at the end of a hairbrush - but not all of them gave in so easily. Despite her youth, Ashley had been a high-ranking executive at a successful company, and after some initial shock and horror at being demoted to diapers and adopted by her former assistant, she soon learned to adapt.

Spankings and other punishments proved to be totally ineffective, and only encouraged her to show her new Daddy just how much of a little terror she could be if she didn't get her way. She screamed loudly in the middle of the night, she threw tantrums in public, she trashed expensive furniture and ripped up important documents, until eventually her Daddy realised the truth; even if she ate her meals in a highchair, slept in a crib, and wore thick diapers and plastic pants 24/7, she was still in charge.

Sometimes, however, he needed a little reminder. Ashley took a deep breath. "Daddy... Here's what's going to happen. In a few minutes, I'm going to go back out there with a clean nappy, so all those dumb brats understand that I'm the queen bee of this park. Then later, when you and the other Daddies are sitting together talking about whatever it is you like to talk about, I'm going to come over and sit in your lap and say how much I wuv sucking my Daddy's big dick, and they're all going to think you're the luckiest man in the world, which you are. We're going to have cuddles, and you’re going to tell me how much you love me, and I’m going to say I love you too, because I do, and it will be a perfect afternoon. But first, before we do any of that, you are going to change. My. Nappy!"

"Alright, princess..." her Daddy said resignedly, but as he started pulling off her plastic pants, there was the faintest smile on his face that suggested he wasn't entirely unhappy with the situation. "You’re the boss," he sighed.

“That’s right, Daddy." Ashley lay down on her back, smirking. "I am.”

[faghubby]

Not Knocking changes my life

I opened the door to my bosses office. I had thought he had already left for the day and wanted to leave the incedent report for him to look over. I dropped it when I saw him. His pants around his ankles as he jerked off. I froze for a moment his cock was so big. He didn't stop instead he spun his chair a bit so I had an even better view.

"So sorry Mr Green" I stuttered he was still slowly stroking himself. I had never seen another man jerk off before.

"Paul check out this one" he said moving his computer screen. I was even more stunned when I saw what he was jerking off too. A slender small femme boi. I tried to leave.

"What Paul I know this is what you watch" He said. I froze.

"That virus we got last week" he added as if telling me how he knew.

"Paul are you wearing panties now?" He asked.

"No, of course not" I stuttered I wasn't sure I could get any more uncomfortable then I was now. He stood kicking off his pants as he stepped and grabbed my arm.

"Prove it" he said. He was so close I could of touched his cock. I let him turn me. He started to unbutton my shirt. I panicked and closed the door.

"Mr Green you're married" I said it was stupid but only thing I could think of. He removed my shirt. Standing very close now. He looked down into my eyes. He was at least 6 inches taller then my 5'5" slender frame.Mr green was old enough to be my father. I was 22 year old loser. And this successful handsom older man wanted me. unbuckled my belt I couldn't move. As he unzipped my pants and let them fall around my ankles.

"You little liar" Mr Green smiled when he saw my satin yellow panties. He cupped my bulge. My 4 inch penis straining against the flimsy material. His hands wrapped around and gropped my ass with both hands.

"Mr Green" I stuttered

"You should probably call me John with what is about to happen" John told me. John pulled his shirt off and led me back to his chair. He sat down and pulled me to his lap.

"Sit on Daddy's lap and watch this with me" John told me. He continued to rub me thru my panties. I stroked his cock as we watched porn on the computer.

"Do you suck cock baby?" He asked.

"I never" I mumbled

"I got myself a little virgin sissy" he laughed. I stroked him faster as his breath sounds increased.

"Look how she takes his big cock in her ass" John said he rubbed me thru the panties. I came. A moment later I made him cum. My hand coated with his seed. There was so much I thought. I never came that much.

"Have you ever tasted it?" John asked scooping up a glob of his cum and bringing it to my lips. I shook my head but opened my mouth and tasted his cum. The salty taste and texture was odd. But Iooked them in the eye for the first time and licked my hand. He was still rock hard. I was surprised.

"Why don't you sit on it" he suggested.

"It's so big and" I stuttered.

"We don't even have to take off your pretty panties" he smiled. And moved me his cock rubbed against my ass. I started to gyrate on his lap.

"I am going to teach you everything" John told me. He rubbed and pinched my nipples.

"Do you have a girlie name?" John asked. I just shook my head no. He pulled my long hair out of the pony tail I always kept it in.

I got hard again as I did I doubled my efforts pleasing him. I spun around on his lap. I don't know why but I leaned in and kissed him my tounge danced in his mouth. This made him cum all over my ass. He stood lifting me with him. He set me down and pulled my panties down bending me over his desk He used his cum as lube he worked his fingers in my ass. I cried out loud as he did. As his fingers probed my ass. He stroked my dick just a few times making me cum on his desk.

"I love you to except that I am going to have you" John told me. I nodded. He watched as I got dressed and left.

The next day I got called to HR. At first I thought it was over the forklift accident. But when I got called into a private office by Gina. Gina was an older woman of about 60. I thought of last night.

"Paul, sit down. You are not in trouble. Mr Green just wanted to show his appreciation for your professionalism in reporting the incident. She handed me an envelope. I opened it and it was a pass to a salon. I must of looked confused.

"Paul, John is discreet and on occasions chooses people to achieve their potential. I am aware of somethings, not details. But I help Mr Green at times. And if you don't want to continue or want to even file a complaint I will help you with that. I also am someone you can contact I'd there is a problem." Gina told me she handed me a new cell phone. "Both mine and Mr Green numbers are in the phone. It is the only number you are to use to reach Mr Green." Gina was very calm about all of this. She stopped and looked me straight in the eye.

"John won't want half way, that coupon you hold is for a full body wax and mani pedi." Gina warned me. I nodded as to say I understood.

"Okay, that appointment is in an hour" Gina smiled. It was 9 am I had 6 hours left on my shift.

"It's okay go" Gina assured me. I left and drove across town to a very upscale salon. I sat in the car for ten minutes trying to build the courage to go inside. Having to pee I went in to use the bathroom. As soon as I walked in I was greeted by a very good looking woman in her 50s

"You must be Paul" she said greeting me. I was stunned.

"We are alone except my assistant. This is just between us" she said making me feel at ease. She showed me to a locker room I stripped and put on a pink robe. Kelly the salon owner explained everything and answered every question with care. Her assistant Mary another woman in her 50s. They made chit chat. As they scubbed, waxed, plucked my body. It took forever but there were breaks where I soaked in a hot bath. They didn't stop until every hair below my chin was gone. They also did my nails. My toes where painted a hot pink my fingers a clear polish. They weren't done next the treated my hair adding highlights and some volume to my hair cut and styled it. Mary showed me how to style it to look more femine. She then smiled alittle.

"Trust me?" Mary asked. I nodded and she shapped my eyebrows. Not alot but they where thinner. I got a text with an address. And time from John.

I arrived to find a hotel I got another text room 1204. How did he know I was here. I went up to the room . John answered the door wearing a fluffy robe.

"Those are for you?" He said. I saw several presents. I was already amazed at how generous he had been. I didn't even know if I could do what I knew he wanted. I had never been with anyone. Not even a woman. John sat on the bed. He watched me as I walked across the room. His eyes never leaving me. I just approached him I stood in front off him for a moment. Then sank to my knees.

"I never, not sure how, and you're so big" I said with a certain amount of fear. John said nothing just spread his leg a bit further. I opened his robe. His cock was still impressive even soft I thought. As I reach ed and stroked him. I bought my head down and took just the head in my mouth. His hands gently played with my hair. As I licked and sucked his cock. Making it grow.

"Cup the balls, gently caress them. Even lick and suck them" John told me. "That's nice with the tounge wrap it around like that. Don't take to much. You will get better at it slowly" he told me. "You can use your hand some. No such thing as to much salivia" he kept encouraging me. My jaw started to hurt. But I kept going it took more thspen a half hour to get him close. He stood pushing me back. As he unleash a tidal wave of cum into my mouth and all over my face. It dripped down my chest. He helped me to my feet and grabbed a towel. He feed me big globs of his cum but basicly cleaned me. Then led me to where he had left the gifts. The first box was beautiful white lingerie like a bride would wear. A corset that attached to stockings, and a little thong.

"I love to see you in this" he told me. I picked up the box blushing and went to the bathroom. I needed his help with the corset but managed the rest. He ran his hands all over my body when I came out.

"You look so lovely" he told me. Kissing me. I melted in his arms. He then handed me the next present. I opened it to find ha jeweled butt plug. He took it from me and lubed it up. I bent over he pulled my thong to the side and slowly worked it in. It wasn't that big but felt huge as he set I'm place. I was so aroused I would of let him do anything at this point. But he sat me down next to him and opened a small box. It had a gold necklace. With "Paulie" in it he didn't ask just put it on my neck.

"You will need alot of training before I can fuck you" he told me. He pushed on the plug. "Would you like to start?" I just nodded. He grabbed a bag and set it on the table. He positioned me on the bed my face buried in a pillow and my ass high in the air. He removed the plug and replaced it with something longer. After about ten minutes he used another toy thicker. Then another. And another.

"That's enough for today" John told me.

"Please daddy, try I can take it please let me feel you inside me" I pleaded. He got behind me and applied even more lube. I felt the huge head of his cock pushing against me. Then my ass suddenly opened and engulfed the head of his cock. I screamed as it did. Daddy didn't move just held me still. The pain subsided sum. I was in pain. But I wanted him, I wanted to plase him. So I pushed back. Letting more of his massive cock rip my virgin asshole open. Tears flowed down my face now.

"That's enough" Daddy smacked my ass. And pulled out. I crawled into a fetal position. Daddy came and lifted my head and set it on her lap. He ran his hands thru my hair.

"Shhh, it's okay you did well" he told me. Then he reached down and pushed a plug in my ass.

"I never want to see you not wearing this" he said running his hand across my necklace. "And if you aren't wearing panties you better be Commando." He told me. I met him once a week at the hotel. At work though I couldn't even hide the special attention he gave me. It was obvious to all my co workers and I was teased about it. They didn't know exactly who was throwing me favoritism. But at least once a week I found myself in his office (usually after hours) or in his car. He took pleasure not only in teaching me to be his slut. But pushing me to be more and more femine.

Once a month I had a spa appointment, where I learned skin care, but also make up tutorials. At first he had me get my ears pieced. He loved buying me jewelry and perfume. I could now take half his cock in my ass. But still not been able to take all 10 inches. Orally was worse but I was beginning to get over my gag refex.

Then one night he calls drunk tells me he is outside my appartment. I was in bed I get up and throw on some clothes and let him in. He is forceful for the first time is normal gentle patience gone. He rips my clothes off annoyed at my male clothes. Then bends me over my table. My ass is plugged. He pulls it out and drives his cock in. Not stopping this time not working about me he FUCKS me. Driving all 10 inches of his two inch thick cock into my ass. I can do nothing but bite my lip as he pounds away. I cum on the table after only a minute he doesn't even notice. Smaking my ass as he uses me. I almost pass out by the time he fills my ass with his sperm. He pulls out and leaves. Barely saying a word. I grab my shirt and wrap it around myself.

As I arrive at work the next morning I am met in the parking lot by miss Gina. She quickly ushers me to her office.

"I am guessing things changed last night" She smiled. "John has asked me to have you read this and answer any questions you may have. As I read what looked like a contract. Gina made the comment.

"You know you are a year younger then his daughter?" I blushed I had not even thought about it.

I was confused by the language of the document I was reading.

"Basically it says you agree to be his. You will not be permitted to have any relations with anyone else. You will wear what he asks you too. Do what he demands. In exchange he will set you up in a condo, with an allowance." Gina said. She stopped looked at me. "You will be his sex slave for at least the next 5 years" she stated. "He may have you alter your body permanently" she added.

I nodded that I understood. I went to see him before I signed. He locked his door and dropped his pants he pushed me to the floor.

"Take it all" he commanded as he shoved his cock in my mouth. I had never took more them half. But now he forced it down my throat. Soon he was fucking my throat as I tried to relax as tears flowed down my face. His balls slapped against my chin and I felt like I had won the world series. He continued to fuck my throat till he came straight into my stomach. He pulled out and helped me up.

"You're fired" he said. Handing me a tissue to wipe my face. "Gina has the keys to your new place. No need for any of your old things unless I gave them to you. And some personal things" John told me. I didn't even tell him I hadn't signed. I went back to Gina signed it and was driven back to my place where I was given a box to pack up a few things from my old life. Before bought to a gorgeous two bedroom condo. The place was furnished and closets full of clothes. I was left alone the closets where almost completely women clothes. I had recover worn a dress but I tried them on.

John came in around 7pm. He had a key. He walked straight up to me and pushed me over a table. Flipped the dress up and tore my panties off.

"You drive me crazy" he told me his cock sliding across my ass. He smacked my ass. And let me go.

"You are to be fitted with a chastity cage" he told me. I can't have you flopping all over. As he said it there was a knock at the door. He opened it and two men entered. They sat me down pulled up my dress and took measurements. First of me hard then one of them put some kind of gel on my penis. It got soft immediately. They took more measurements then locked me in a steel cage. And gave the keys to John. He thanked them and they left.

"You are a woman now, I will not have you dressing or acting in any other way" John informed me.

"Lily (his wife) knows all about you. She even has keys to this place. You will treat her with respect if she chooses to meet you" he told me. He then picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. He tossed me on the bed and ripped the dress off of me. He was gentle he was rough and corse. Biting and cursing he play raped me. Then pulled out and shoved his cock down my throat. I was so turned on my penis hurt unable to grow. As I moaned even cried as he used me.

"This is what you are for" he told me.

"Yes, thank you Daddy" I moaned.

I learned Lily allowed me because I did everything she had no interest in doing and Daddy needed. Daddy even took me on trips with him on occasion. He transformed me. I had not only my ears pierced several times but also my nose and nipples. I had c cup implants he didn't want them big with my small frame. My clit was locked away in a custom made cage that was so small it compressed it even when soft. He even had me get a tattoo that said Daddy's toy on my ass. Unless I was naked no one would ever suspect I was really male.

I knew my place, if Daddy had a stressful day. I was going to feel it. It wasn't even beyond him to tie me up of spank me. I was his to do as he pleased.

Till one day Lily rang the bell. I invited her in. I never went out without Daddy or at least Gus his driver. I didn't have a car. And really no money everything was paid for.

"Paulina, I have a proposition for you." LILY said. "A few months ago you met a man named Mohammed" she continued I remember.

"Mohammed has asked for you" Lily told me. "John likes the conquest but he has you properly as far as he is willing to take you. He will soon replace you. But Mohammed" Lily smiled. I was confused.

"If John throws you out you have nothing" Lily pointed out.

"John is aware I am here. I propose you meet with Mohammed" Lily continued. I had said almost nothing. Lily got up.

"A car will arrive tonight at 6" she told me. And left. I didn't know what to do but fussed and panicked about meeting this man tonight. Was picked up by a driver and driven to a hotel. In the presidential suite I met Mohammed. He was a good looking man. Taller then I remembered. His black bald head shimmered in the light.

Without a word he pointed to the floor at his feet I dropped. He unzipped his pants, I reached out and helped him. I pulled out his lovely black cock. I had only ever touched John's. He wouldn't like me touching Mohammed's. But I couldn't resist and sucked his lovely cock. It wasn't as thick as John's but just as long. Mohammed stopped me before I finished.

"I am told you like disapline" He says.

"I understand my place and need to be spanked" I told him.

"What about more then spanked. Have you ever been whipped?" He asked his hand cupping my face. I swallowed hard

"No sir" I replied.

"I am going to" he told me he pulled my hair. As I stood. He had me strip. Naked. He didn't care about my pretty lingerie. He tied my hands above my head. And laid me on the bed. Where he tied that to the frame then my feet spread apart where tied as well. He used a belt. Across my ass. Then let it lay there. Slowly moving it then again. And again. It was slow, it made me jump and cry everytime. But also strangely erotic. I never went back to the condo.

Sir. Gave me a dozen lashes that day. Before he fucked my ass pulling out to cum all over my welted ass. I belonged to him after that.

Mohammed was different although much more strict he was there everyday. There was no second like. I traveled with him. And practically every night we slept in the same bed.

He was Mohammed in public but always sir when we where alone. Now 26 years old. I am pain slut to a 58 year old. He doesn't even have the keys to my cage. He says if we ever need it off he will just have me castrated.

I want to marry this man, but he says he cant. He is married to a woman he hasn't seen in 20 years.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

A little short

A/N: Just a short little something inspired by this lovely little interaction... This was written in, what... an hour? (It was 2, I checked. I shouldn't lie, I'm sorry.) And hardly beta'd... Still pretty pleased with it, though. Anyway enjoy the porn.

Pairing: August Walker x reader (you)

Summary: You try to prove August Walker isn't the boss of you. Turns out he is, and you're screwed.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, Angry August (that's a warning in and of itself), (semi-?)public sex, teasing, exhibitionism, voyeurism(?), unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), use of pet names, creampie... Tell me if I forgot any.

“It’s a little short, isn’t it?” Here we go again, you thought. You looked at August, who sure seemed to appreciate the skirt he’d called too short not five seconds ago. And he always did this. With everything. And you always listened, what the fuck was up with that? No, this time, you were so goddamn tired of his bullshit that you weren’t going to change because of him.

“It’s not,” you said simply, and you walked away to put on your shoes. You were already late for drinks with August’s friends, you really didn’t have the time to rethink your entire outfit. Besides, you reminded yourself, you wanted to wear this skirt. It made your ass look good. 

The boys were meeting up in a bar a town over, about an hour away, so you walked to the car with August behind you. You should have found that strange -he was usually more the type of guy to walk in front of you - but you didn’t.

“Not that one,” August said with a devilish grin on his face when you made your way to the car he usually drove. He walked past you to the other car in the garage - a gray Porsche 911. The choice surprised you; as much as he loved that car, there was no good reason for him to pick it over the Audi. It was fast and pretty, but uncomfortable, and very hard to get in and out of… Bastard, you thought to yourself. Was he really picking this because of the low instep? You looked at your heels - seven inches, what were you thinking - and skirt. Fuck it, you thought, August Walker wants a show? Let’s give him a fucking show, then. When getting into the car - August just insisted on closing the door for you - you made sure to spread your legs as wide as they would go, causing your skirt to ride up. If flashing him your panties while getting in didn’t get him worked up, the fact that he’d be sitting next to you for an hour while almost being able to see up your skirt certainly would. A voice in the back of your head asked repeatedly if you were really sure about antagonizing August, but you shoved it down. You were done with his shit, you were going to show him, you were going to make August Walker your bitch. 

The drive was fun. You could shift around in your seat enough to give him little glimpses of the black lace between your legs, and from his sighs and low growls you could tell that he was getting perfectly worked up. After a while, you got bored of that, and you had an idea. Again, that voice in the back of your head spoke up, this time to tell you just how terrible that idea was, but the devil on your left shoulder cheered you on, and you went ahead with it anyway. Slowly, you dropped one hand to your lap, in between your legs. It was casual enough at first, not attracting any attention from the man next to you, but after a while you saw his eyes drift to your almost entirely bare legs often. A finger lazily trailed the fabric of your underwear. You shivered at the touch; just thinking of doing this was incredibly exciting, and your pussy was swollen and aching already. A soft hum escaped from your throat as you slowly pulled the fabric to the side and sank back into the chair, letting your legs fall to the sides a little further. You knew he could see you: The moan that he tried to hide in a conspicuous cough, the growing bulge in his pants, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard you thought it wouldn’t withstand the force… Again, you made sure to turn in your seat in such a way that you switched between granting and denying him a glimpse of your fingers as you played with yourself. The low growling and groaning next to you egged you on, the feeling of control overwhelmed you. You didn’t look at him as you started dragging your fingers around your clit, your moans becoming louder - sometimes exaggerated, but he didn’t need to know that - as you worked yourself to your climax. When you came down from that, August’s hand was on your knees, slowly sliding up your leg, its destination more than obvious. You pushed it away determinedly.

“Please,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I just want to feel how wet you are, baby.” When you refused him again, he whimpered. The sound was that of a man who had suffered a grave injustice - August had a habit of being a baby that way. You figured you’d toy with him a little more, and with one remarkably fluent movement, you yanked the black lace garment down your legs and dropped it in his lap theatrically. 

“There, feel all you want,” you said triumphantly, “you’re not touching me.” God, you felt powerful and in control, and the feeling was making you even wetter. The thought of August enduring this whole night, knowing you had no panties on turned you on immensely. In the corner of your eye, you saw him drag his thumb over the soaked material before tucking your underwear into his pocket. The last part of the drive went by quietly. 

Getting out of that car was a menace - it always had been, but in your seven-inchers, it was nearly impossible. 

“Baby,” you cooed, eyes wide with clearly feigned innocence - not that the tooth-rotting sweetness in your voice was fooling anybody, “I need your help getting out.” He growled, clearly annoyed by your games, which made you feel very proud, yet he walked around the car to help you nonetheless. When you looked him in the eye as you put your naked pussy on full display for him, he looked down on you with a furious look and clenched jaw. Apparently, he thought you were dragging this moment out too long, because he practically yanked you out of the car and slammed the door shut. You were trapped between the Porsche and his body, and he pressed his hips into you. He was rock hard, which made you laugh a little louder than you wanted. August didn’t find it funny at all. 

“Pleased with yourself, princess?” He growled in your ear. His eyes moved through the parking garage and when they finally moved back to you, you saw it. The sadistic grin, his hungry eyes… He pulled you behind a pillar in the garage, next to the car and pressed your chest against it. Fuck, you thought, as the voice inside your head threw you annoying and repeated ‘told you so’-s. Your hips were pulled back and your skirt shoved up further to expose you completely. The air in the garage was cold, your legs were covered in goosebumps, your cheek was pressed against the hard, cold concrete of the pillar and someone could walk in and see you like this at any goddamn moment. It was all incredibly uncomfortable - at least, that’s what you figured your thoughts about this situation should be. Instead, you were absolutely dripping. 

“Now, you’re going to need to keep quiet, can you do that, baby?” August whispered as he dragged two fingers along your slit. You nodded and pushed back into his hand. Without warning, he pushed both fingers into your core. They were met with little resistance, yet the abrupt intrusion made you shriek. August clicked his tongue disapprovingly. 

“I guess not. Open up.” You knew that if you didn’t do as he told you, there’d be hell to pay - if not now, then when you got home, so you obeyed his command. August had found an excellent way to keep you quiet through whatever he was about to do to you, and now you found yourself with the panties you had handed him so confidently - back when you believed yourself to be in control of this situation - stuffed in your mouth. You whimpered when you heard the zipper of his trousers. The feeling of his cock pressing against your entrance turned it into a moan. You were so wet that he had no trouble at all sliding the full, throbbing length of his cock into you - so wet he couldn’t stifle an ecstatic grunt as he did. August chuckled at the shriek that came from your throat. 

“This soaking little cunt is begging me to tear it apart, babygirl,” he moaned as he pulled back slowly, “it would be rude to ignore that.” A few slow, shallow thrusts followed; he stretched you out lazily, relishing the feeling of the warm wetness of your body, while at the same time teasing you. You mirrored his movements, throwing your hips back to get him to go deeper. There was nothing in this world you wanted more right now than to just have more of August inside of you. 

“No no, baby, not so fast,” he chuckled and the playful slap on your bare ass echoed through the parking garage, “you teased me for an hour. You got yours, now I want mine.” You wanted so badly to tell him to just fuck you hard, but you couldn’t. Luckily, August had run out of patience during the drive, and it wasn’t long before he sank into you completely again and set a relentless pace, slamming his hips into yours with every thrust, working his cock so deep inside you that it hurt just right. You knew he wouldn’t last long going like this, not after the past hour, not after having been away from you for a week, but when he didn’t stop you got worried. 

“No,” you tried to say through your improvised gag, “not inside.”

“What?” August asked in a low voice with a diabolical undertone to it. “You want me to come inside this wet little cunt?” He laughed at your largely inaudible protest. A few hard thrusts later, he finished inside of you. He pulled his cock out first, and then he freed your mouth of your underwear. 

“You dick,” you hissed at him. The fact you couldn’t yell made you even angrier than you already were. “Give me those!” You reached for your panties, but August caught your wrist. He held up the flimsy garment with a wicked smile on his face. 

“These? They’re soaked. So even if I were to give them back to you, you couldn’t wear them.” 

“August, seriously?” You shrieked before lowering your voice again. “You want me to meet your friends with your cum dripping down my leg?”

“That hardly sounds like my problem,” he said before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Come on, princess, it’s a five minute walk to the bar.”

[neo-techculture]

Partners in Crime to Partners for Life

Summary:- A look into your life where you're Dante's Consigliere; and his wife.

Pairing:- Mafia boss!OC x Consigliere!Reader.

Warnings:- A lil spicy; just a little.

The clicking of your heels on the shiny tiled floor was the only sound in the top-floor lobby of DeLuca Corp. You come to a halt in front of the black double doors, which are made of expensive wood, as is everything else in the room, including the furniture, lighting, and decorations. The whole company screams 'money'. You knock on the door, hear a faint 'Come in', before pushing it open.

Dante DeLuca, CEO of DeLuca Corp and head of the Italian Mob, sits in the swirling chair behind the expensive oak desk. The sound of your heels entering the room alerts him to your presence. Dante lifts his head from the paper he was reading, his chocolate brown eyes focusing on yours. Leaning back in his chair, a small smirk forms in the corner of his lips as he looks you up and down.

You are dressed in a simple white silk top, matching dress pants, and a blazer. You looked sleek with your black heels, dark brown hair pulled up into a ponytail, and lips coated a soft red.

"I got the papers you wanted," you inform. Dante hummed softly as he rose from the chair, coming around to lean against his desk. Each miniscule movement causes the white shirt to stretch around his muscles.

"C'mere," he demanded. When you make no move to get closer, he presses a button on the side of his desk to close and lock the door. "Now, c'mere."

With a sigh, you move closer. When you were within touching distance, Dante's arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. He leaned down and gently nuzzled your nose, mumbling, "Missed my pretty wife today."

A gentle laugh escapes your lips. "You just saw me two hours ago, Dante."

"Yeah, too long." He let out. Nobody would have known that the powerful and ruthless leader of the Italian mob was whipped for his wife.

"If I had my way with you, I wouldn't even let you out of my bed, love." He went on.

"Un-huh," you grin as you kiss his cheek. "I still have work to do."

"I know," Dante mumbles. He kisses your lips softly before leaning back. "So, what have you got?"

"Well, Nico has been able to dig up some dirt on the mayor, just in case he proves to be difficult," You explain.

"Good, I also need you to look into this too..."

-----

By the time evening rolls around, you're more than ready to get into bed with your husband and unwind.

After arriving at the penthouse, you went straight to the closet to steal one of Dante's shirts. Your amused husband appears behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.

"Stealing, love?" He questions with a fond look.

You turn around in his arms, running a finger along his jaw.

"You mind?"

How could Dante possibly refuse you when you look at him like that. Pretty doe eyes half-lidded, lips pouty and soft. He's a man obsessed. God forbid that anyone attempts to take you away from him. Dante is well aware that he'd burn the world down in your name if anything happened to you.

He shakes his head no in response. Though, a sly look enters his eyes. "But this is going to owe you."

"Oh, really?" You drawl and press closer to your husband. "I think I'm fine with that. In fact, I'm more than willing to be in your debt."

Dante chuckles. Gods, he loves you.

Getting into bed, the two of you cuddle for a while, discussing the usual subjects about his empire and the current problems he's facing.

But soon your husband's hands begins to wander, sliding over your hips and playing with the hem of your shirt. He damn well knows he's going to find you bare if he pulls the fabric up. After all, he had seen you undress and wear his shirt earlier.

"What are you doing?" You mumble. Dante's eyes shifts to your face, sensing the tiredness in your voice.

"Is my pretty wife tired?" He murmurs. You nod, inching closer to press your face against his neck.

Your husband caresses the soft skin of your thighs for a while. He's not going to rile you up when he knows you're tired and just needs to rest.

'Guess we can have a quickie in the morning,' he thinks.

A short time later, he runs his hands through your hair, feeling the soft strands glide through his fingers. He massages your scalp gently, lulling you to sleep.

Watching you sleep is another one of his favorite things to do; the first one being making you laugh. You look so peaceful when you're asleep. The muscles relaxed and the weight of your constant worries lifted off your shoulders.

Dante presses a kiss against your temple, allowing his lips to linger for a moment, soaking up your softness and scent before pulling away.

"I love you," he whispers. You stir softly, mumbling an incoherent 'love you' before relaxing back to sleep.

Dante smiles. "My pretty wife."

A lil drabble of male oc with reader. Hope you enjoyed! Tell me if I should write a part 2 for this. Don't be shy to put in requests!

Credits to the amazing @cafekitsune for the cute divider line. Go check them out!!

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY POOKIES! :)

[k-marzolf]

You got me dancing in the dark.

Warnings: reader is on Billy’s team in Anvil, sexism/misogyny, boss/employee, canon typical violence, blood, death, dark themes, you are responsible for your media consumption, explicit language, fem!reader.

You felt rage fueling you as you struck down the enemy, making him stumble back. He’d underestimated you being the only woman on Billy’s team, and that had been a mistake.

“A woman? Do you know which end of the gun to shoot with, princess?” He’d taunted with his gun over his shoulder, looking cocky and self assured.

You knew better than to let an opponent get under your skin, what did it matter to you what some nobody thought, but your teeth gnashed together, and you shot his hand impulsively, making him drop the gun.

“Son of a bitch!” He yelled, cradling his hand.

You kicked his gun away, having flashbacks of your father. He’d never wanted you for the simple reason you were a girl, and he didn’t believe girls could fight. Even when you proved him wrong, he resented you for not being the son he wanted.

You climbed on top of your opponent, plunging your blade into his chest making blood spray, stabbing into him with your ka-bar over and over violently, exposing bone and sinew, even as the blood sprayed your face, and he went limp, and his chest cavity was destroyed by your onslaught.

Billy watched you, feeling hard in his pants at your display of violence, brutality.

You looked over at him, wiping the blood from your face. He was gripping his rifle, an excitement dark and aroused on his face. He licked his lips, dark eyes intense. “Goddamn, daisy. I love to watch you work.”

You pressed your thighs together, feeling your own excitement. He fisted your bloody hair, kissed your mouth tasting the tang of blood, making you moan as he pressed his hard body to yours.

He pulled back, fingers still in your hair. “I could fuck you just like this, covered in the blood of your enemies.” He said hoarsely, “but my men are comin’.” He leaned down into your ear, “But imma have you later.”

You had loved Billy the minute he had shown he believed you to be capable despite your gender. You watched your boss as a young man came onto the scene. “Got him?” He asked, voice sounding like he was wet behind his ears as he looked at only Billy.

Billy hummed, pointing to you, “Yeah, daisy got him.”

And he was yours.

[cyberrat]

81st Batch Of Fics: 4th Fill

Cassidy/OCs; (Cassidy/Hanzo) – Flashback Part 4/4 – rape; coercion; young Cole – Cole keeps up his struggle. He needs something more from his gang life.

---

One of the guys has just grabbed Cole’s hand and is stuffing it down his pants to get him to jerk him off when the door to the makeshift med-bay slams open and another guy walks out, followed by the Deadlock’s doctor barking a gruff: “Next!”

Cole quickly pulls his hand out of the grimacing guy’s pants and makes his way up the couple steps into the hut. It’s oppressively hot inside filled with a mixture of Alpha scents that gets his mouth watering.

It’s only been a month or something and already he’s getting hot for…

“Ah. Cassidy.” The doctor eyes him with a shrewd expression. “Got some special orders for you.” He jerks his head toward the cot. “Get naked and bend over.”

Cole’s fingers are fumbling with his clothes. He doesn’t know why he’s still getting nervous about this stuff. He awkwardly folds them a little and puts them over a chair before he does as he is told.

There’s quiet stretching through the room as the doctor quietly looks him over. A ton of bite marks that are in various stages of healing all over his arms and legs; a lot of bruises. A lot of dried blood between his cheeks.

As the man peels them apart to get a bit of a better look at the damage, he grunts in a mixture of annoyance and disgust.

“For God’s sake, Cassidy – wash your damn ass, will you? You don’t want this to get infected. Idiot.”

Cole lets his head hang low and doesn’t say anything. Part of him had hoped for it, if he’s honest; another part had thought that the guys might just stop fucking him if he’s disgusting enough.

The doc cleans him up which is one exquisitely humiliating experience that he does not particularly care to repeat any time soon.

“Hmn. I’ll let your boss know that they got to go easy on you for the next month or so. And invest in some damn lube.”

Cole presses his forehead against his stacked arms, exhaling a shuddering breath.

He spends the next half hour beneath the doctor’s desk jerking him off and getting his dick liberally wet with his tongue until he was finally allowed to go with a new load warming his stomach.

For a long while that’s just how things go for Cole: he’s getting fucked by whoever is in the mood to pump out a load, and if he’s not being speared on dicks, he’s so far down the ladder that nobody fucking respects him.

He only sees his chance when Bertie of all fucking people can’t go on a mission because of some food poisoning or some shit. It’s an easy enough deal; go to the nearest town, meet up with a guy and hash out a good price for some new guns and medication.

During his nightly meeting with the boss, head on the old Alpha’s thigh and fist pumping his cock, he peers up at him and just… asks. There’s nothing worse that could happen to him after all. Not at this point.

“Can I do that deal?”

The boss who had been looking like he’s been about to fall asleep, cracks one eye open and peers down at Cole. After a while he lifts the near empty bottle he’s been drinking from, swirling the last dredges of liquid around in the glass.

“You? The fuck are you gonna do?”

“I ain’t dumber than Bertie,” Cole mutters. He curls his palm around the slowly growing knot at the base of the boss’ dick and squeezes it gently. He’s learned quite a few things since starting this new job of his.

He also can’t say that he doesn’t… like he doesn’t… hate the smell of the guys anymore. He thinks. It’s just that he’s being drenched in the stench of Alpha cock morning to night now and he can barely smell anything other than unwashed balls and blood hot dicks at this point.

Cole pushes a bit closer, pressing his nose into the wiry hair at the base of the boss’ cock. Maybe to prove it to himself or something. Maybe to drive it home that he really truly loves Alphas now that he’s had a bit of time to…

The boss’ Alpha scent is so thick that it makes his eyes water. He can only stand it for a few seconds before he needs to pull back, eyes and mouth watering like he’s got a severe allergic reaction. He’s drooling like a damn dog but something about that must amuse the boss because he chuckles and pets his head with heavy handed swipes.

“Maybe ya need some time off,” he muses aloud. “Stretch your legs. do somethin’ other than suckin’ dick for once. Can’t be all that good for a growin’ Alpha to just get suffocated on cock day in ‘n day out…”

Though as he says it, he curls his fingers into Cole’s hair and guides his mouth toward the tip of his dick. Cole feels his stomach acid briefly shoot up, but he swallows thickly and opens his mouth nice and wide, tongue out like a wet, red carpet for the boss to slide into.

The time off of his ass is soon coming to an end. He has spied a few stashes of lube now all around the camp, placed where the boys can easily access it… and him.

He does an especially enthusiastic job sucking the boss off, just trying to secure this job for himself.

That night he wakes up to the feeling of hands rearranging him. He’s rolled onto his belly, someone tugging his pants down until they sit beneath the swell of his ass.

Cole’s breath hitches, his heart pumping faster. He tries to figure out how many guys there are but he also doesn’t want to lift his head. He doesn’t want them to be aware that he is awake. Someone generously smears slick into his ass crack.

The ache of an Alpha squeezing his way into his unprepared body is a very special kind of pain. The slick… helps, though. It makes the entry much more bearable as he is getting molested in the middle of the night. There are a ton of other guys around them sleeping soundly, their rattling snores a weirdly comforting backdrop to Cole slowly getting speared on cock.

Maybe it’s because his assailants don’t want to wake the others that they go slower than usual… but the whole ordeal is much more palatable than the other times he got accosted.

He can feel his cock starting to stir as the Alpha slides into him proper. He’s getting hard, his body growing warm and prickly. They rock into him softly, just a few inches at a time; a slick back-and-forth that gets his muscles to relax despite having been stretched so far to accommodate the meaty cock.

Cole keeps his eyes clenched shut tightly and tries to just go back to sleep, ignoring how he now has a full fledged erection that is rubbing against the inside of his pants, leaving everything soon sticky and slimy with his own pre-cum.

It’s a special kind of humiliation yet again. Those seem to just not end up these days.

Tomorrow he’ll get to do his little errand and he’ll show the boss just how much more useful he can be and everything will change. Surely.

Everything will change.

[rreskk]

Could you maybe do a trans man X Steve Haines smut fic where they argue with each other when the guys are around but when everyones not looking they disappear and do stuff and when they come back the guys keep poking fun at them because they thought they hated each other?

---A/N: I'm so sorry this took ages! I've managed to get it done. Thank you for the ask! And thanks for the likes. I appreciate your support :)

Summary: Your secret was out after Steve made it clear that you two... Were something more than enemies.

Word count: 828

Pairings: trans!male reader/ Steve Haines

TW: Smut

Michael pondered into the room with obvious curiosity. He walked alongside the other two, Franklin and Trevor. Being told to meet with urgency, Dave greeted them with unsuspected tiredness.

“Where are they?” Michael asked when noticing two empty seats.

His loyal FIB agent shrugged, “Somewhere. There was some bickers here and there… Then they just wondered off.”

“We ain’t too late, aren’t we?” Trevor chimed in.

“No, I suppose not. Stick around and they’ll return shortly.” Responded Dave.

“Man, they are probably at each other’s throats again.”

“Not quite, Franklin. I believe they are hiding something more personal.”

Franklin glanced at Dave, “What do you mean?”

The trio exchanged looks as the tired man between them placed down his coffee. He sighed.

“It’s not proved but they may be together… Just more… Friendly.”

Trevor busted out laughing at the thought. He held his stomach and antagonised Steve without his presence around. Michael shook his head with a grin and sat down, waiting for you both to show up.

-

“God, I feel so… AH!” Steve panted as you held him still. The guy has been under your skin all day… The second Dave went to buy some coffee, Steve pulled you aside and… Well, the situation proclaimed itself considering you were pushing your cock into his anus.

You were his first time. Remembering the moment he experienced the sensation, it’s a memory to use when he becomes too unbearably cocky. Steve hates the restrictions due to this… But it was a part of the fun. Coming to terms with his sexuality, you helped him through the crisis and he admitted his sexual awakening. Steve is not openly saying he’s gay, it’s a secret between you both.

“Feels good, huh?” You smiled and thrusted further into him. The man gripped onto the wall. His FIB uniform was loosely wrapped around his physique. His trousers dangled around his ankles and you were careful not to crease the shirt since after this, you’ll have to pretend nothing happened.

Steve nodded, his ego enlightening at the attention, “Fuck, you have no right to be so hot, dude.” There was lack of sincerity… It was Haines after all, he is filled with petty compliments, typical brat. And he loved being one.

“Oh my God…” He whispered in front of you.

Outstretching your hands, you held his waist and pushed him into you, deepening the intimacy and friction. Where he continues to whine, his voice grows more hallow as he approaches the need to climax.

“Keep i-it up… I need to… Fuck.”

You fastened the pace and bit your lip. Fuelled with concentration, you slammed yourself against his ass and abused the G spot. Steve gagged out a moan. He fell against the wall and panted for forbidden air. His cock between his legs whimpered and squirted out semen onto the floor, staining and igniting his secrets with you.

“Oh my GOD!” He cried through the stimulation.

Series of seconds after his loaded orgasm, you swiftly breathed out a heavy groan and pulled out to jerk the remainder of your lust. Avoiding the direct contact of his uniform, your cum drooled and dribbled onto your hand to avoid a mess. Steve was tucking his shirt into his trousers and gave you a flustered smirk.

“Remind me why I hated you again?”

“Sexual frustration,” You grinned, wiping your cum onto some tissue paper, “Don’t lie. You liked me ages before we got together.”

Steve scowled, “Yeah, yeah. You find it funny, big guy. I’m the boss here!”

“Okay, sir. We better go meet the others.”

“Sir? What are you playing at?” He protested and followed your lead.

-

“Look who decided to show up!” Trevor tormented, leaning forward onto his chair, “The two cocks.”

“Very funny, Philips. Maybe you should take a shower at some point. There is an invention called soap and hair-wash!” Slandered the man beside you. His legs were wobbly after your interaction, immediately catching Michael’s attention.

“Where have you guys been?” He raised the question.

You scratched your forehead, “I went to the bathroom.”

“And I also went to the bathroom.” Steve stupidly said. You facepalmed… Now your cover was blown.

“Shit, man. Dave was right.” Franklin murmured as he rested his chin against the palm of his hand. Out of everyone, he seemed the least affected by this.

“What? Whatever. Get yourselves together! We got a revolution to plan!” Haines demanded with his beamy voice. You sat down beside Dave, earning a side eye which would suggest his awareness of your sexual relationship with Steve. There was no thought behind his eyes. It was like he knew…

“Are you gonna ditch us again and shag your boyfriend?”

Michael sighed, “Enough, Trev. Let’s get on with this.”

You inhaled shakingly as Trevor’s eyes burnt into yours. The psychopath found amusement in your embarrassment but luckily… He refrained himself from further humiliation. You’ll have to thank Steve for this MONSTRISITY later on.

[lieutenantxsinclair]

Time Compression spits him out into water. Chlorinated, lukewarm water, at that-- Seifer slams through the surface tension, hits the bottom, and comes back up sputtering like a drowning cat.

At least he can swim, instinctively pulling himself to the edge, Hyperion dropped on the fancy tile surrounding the pool before it takes on any more fucking water, and hauls himself out as well. Hiss coat tangles around his boots, sending him ungracefully stumbling forward, coming face first with the barrel of a gun, and then the blonde on the other end of it.

He's an idiot sometimes, but he's not stupid-- his hands come up. -burntchild

Helga Sinclair does not expect the small clock above the mantelpiece to chime Two. It wakes her from a nap she never intended to take over a desk that she never wanted to be seated at... in a house she never wanted to work in.

Life after Whitmore was not the life she had wanted. If anyone asked her years ago, she would never have dreamed of leaving the Military, even if it was with honors. She would never have thought she would be out of action, away from the battlefield and the strategy tables that she had grown to love and respect. To prove the men who sneered at her and rolled their eyes and said she couldn't make a career of military life to be proven right.

This was 1912. Surely, she had believed, this modern world was one she could make her own.

Sitting at a small mahogany desk, papers skewed about her like shrapnel talking about military expenditures on a minute scale, was not how she wanted to live her life.

But Lyle knew that. He knew that she hated this... but that she would hate leaving the whole lifestyle behind out of modern sensibilities of mourning and womanhood. He gave her three years of mourning. Three years of going crazy in her own mind with boredom and sadness and regret. He scooped her up, patted her back, and showed her that this was not the end for her. She could rise from the ashes of tragedy. All she needed was a foothold back in. A chance to prove she was still her old self. And then he introduced her to Preston Whitmore.

Helga brushed her bangs from her face and reoriented herself by focusing on numbers and charts. Iceland. A wealthy man's pet project to find something that didn't exist. They called it Archaeology. She called it a fool's dream.

How desperately she wished to dream, too.

A loud splash caught her attention, and blue eyes shot to the window of her tiny office. The room afforded her a magnificent view of Whitmore Manor's extensive grounds. Shrubberies, a French-style garden, statues, and a rectangular pool surrounded by ornate tiles in a fashion the house's owner called Turkish, and she called garish. She stood and walked to the window, peering out through the glass for the source of the sound. They were too far from the Potomac for her to hear anything from there. And so, her gaze fell to the pool, and the choppy waters, and a figure within.

Intruder.

Helga snatched her Mauser off of the desk where it had been acting as a makeshift paperweight, and bolted down the stairs. Taking them two at a time, she thanked her stars that Whitmore had no opinion on her wearing pants.

"All the better for your job, don'tcha think?"

He was not the worst boss she had ever had.

She sprinted through the house, avoiding most house staff by virtue of the hour and ignoring those she did cross. The kitchen door took her onto the cobbled patio, and here she saw a welcome sight: another house guard, and a very alert German Shepherd straining at his leash.

"Follow me." As if she needed to give the order. With a wave of her hand, she instructed the guard towards the pool. Approaching, she caught sight of something bladed and shiny coming from the agitated surface, landing with a graceless metal clunk on the tile. Her run slowed just in time for a hand to come out of the water.

Helga pointed her pistol down into the water, aimed where the intruder's head would surely raise. At her side, the Shepherd sniffed inquisitively at the metal whatever.

"Get out of the water. You have thirty seconds. And keep your hands where I can see them."

@burntchild

[regatoni1]

~Chapter Four~

The man you had bumped into suddenly grabbed your wrist, and you got the faint feeling that he didn't just want to fight.

Letting your instincts kick in, you grabbed the arm that was holding you, and threw the man over your shoulder, slamming him on the ground. This caused you to become out of breath from the sheer size of him. You caught the man and his goonies off guard, but he was quick to get up and put a knife to you neck before you even cared what was happening.

"Oh so this is Hisoka's little bitch huh?" the man said, his hot breath on your neck. You could feel his stubble scratch against your soft skin. You felt disgusted.

What he said had you fuming. You were vibrating with rage under the knife, deciding wether or not to break free as the blade started piercing the skin, when a certain voice interrupted your attempts.

"Well that wasn't very nice now was it~?" Hisoka said with a small pout on his face, his blood lust running rampant.

The man threw you into Hisoka, and had you tumbling straight into his chest. Hisoka caught you by the shoulders, and held you in front of him, close against his body in protectiveness.

"That's no way to speak to a lady..." Hisoka deviously smiled.

You looked up at the jester who still hadn't let go of your shoulders, starting to get a bit uncomfortable under his touch. You started to try and slide yourself out of his grip, in return getting a warning stare from him. Normally, a gaze like that would be enough to make you listen, but from all the misogyny that was thrown at you today, this was the last straw.

You certainly were not a helpless little girl in need of protecting. And you were going to prove it.

First, you lifted your heel into Hisoka's crotch, making him ease his grip only slightly, but that was all you needed to slip free. You then ran straight for one of the men surrounding you. You Jumped onto the man's shoulders, and then twisted his neck, snapping it before he had the chance to react. Once you were on the ground, you saw two other armed assailants running towards you, so you did what any normal person would do, pull a dagger and slice one mans neck which made a satisfying squelching noise, and then threw the dagger straight in between the other attacker's eyes. You calmly walked over to the dead body, pulling your dagger out and wiping it on the grass. You noticed your ankle was a bit sore, but you probably just twisted it during the little skirmish.

You heard a scream, and turned to see that Hisoka had killed the other three men, and their boss all with one simple playing card. And he was starting straight at you.

He looked at you with pure amusement. You just wanted this phase to be over. In the past eight hours you ran 80 kilometres, ran god knows how far in a swamp, had been looked down upon and severely underestimated because of your gender, killed three men, and had a clown squatting at your feet, lifting up your pant leg.

Wait, what?

"Hisoka! What are you doing?!" you yelled, attempting to kick him in the face.

He caught your foot and you yelled out in pain. "Calm down my little fruit~ it seems you have broken your ankle."

"I'm fine," you responded curtly, attempting to walk away, but limping so much you were basically hopping. You cringed from the pain. Damn I must have broken it when jumping off that fucking guys shoulders.

As you were trying to walk away, Hisoka slyly slipped a hand under your knees and on your back, sweeping you up into bridal style carry.

"Hisoka!" you yelled, seething in anger. You were not done proving your point yet. "Put me down right now or you will regret it!"

He just chuckled and kept walking.

You started to fight against him, which seemed to only make him more amused. He swung you over his shoulder and kept walking like there wasn't a fully grown, fully angered woman on his shoulder, attempting to grab a knife from her waistband.

He seemed to take notice to the knife, grabbed it, and started twirling the silver blade on his finger.

"(y/n), if you don't calm down I'm going to have to knock you out you know," He said flatly.

You hesitated for a moment. Something clicked in your mind and the rage went off. "Fine." You stopped squirming, and he tucked your knife back into your waistband, smirked, and then brought you back to bridal style.

As quickly as you had developed this plan, you karate chopped his jugular, causing him to drop you right in a puddle.

Great. Just fucking perfect.

You got up on one leg, and started pitifully hopping as fast as you could away from the now very angry magician. You had made it about 100 meters away, before a playing card was thrown right by your head, efficiently cutting some hair off as you hopped, the card hitting a tree and slicing through it, and a malicious blood lust had paralyzed you.

"My my. That wasn't very nice at all~" Hisoka purred. "I told you what I was going to do, no?"

Before you could respond, you felt a quick chop at a pressure point on your neck, and things suddenly started getting very hazy.

As you were falling down, giving into the darkness, you saw a smirking Hisoka ready there to catch you.

"Night night~" you heard him say, right before the slumber won.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 10 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Chapter: 10 - Tingly Feeling

It was Tuesday afternoon and I needed a break.

I had received an email for a new work assignment yesterday morning with a bunch of jumbled information attached.

Sorting out the mess had taken far longer than it should have.

It wasn't until later that afternoon that I had discovered why.

An intern had mistakenly included data from another project.

I had to syphon out all of the useless incorrect information before anything had begun to make any kind of sense.

It had taken me half of today to re-review and remove the skewed data.

The numbers in the margins were now finally starting to talk to me.

So here I was halfway through a second day only just getting started on the job I was supposed to have begun yesterday morning.

Talk about a waste of time.

Frustrated, tired and hungry I pushed away from my desk and headed into the kitchen.

Cicero trotted behind me.

I absently pet his head as I opened the fridge door.

I pulled out the pitcher of fresh citrus ginger tea and poured myself a glass.

I sighed as I sipped.

The unproductive day was bothering me.

Since meeting Pierce, seeing who he was and how he was,and even worse, his questioning my ability to do my job, I worried about my lack of progress on this project.

Granted it wasn't my fault but that didn't matter to me.

I pictured his disapproving cold face and his direct forceful gaze.

The familiar electrical sizzle swept up my spine at the mental images I conjured of him.

My reaction to him I had finally concluded, was one part fear, one part agitation and one-part unknown.

I still hadn't been able to put my finger on the other emotion I felt when he looked at me, I just knew it was unlike anything I had experienced before.

Whether it was good or bad was undetermined.

I stared out the kitchen window as I replayed the last few minutes, I was with him on Saturday night.

One moment he had been giving me a hard time about stuttering which had of course only made me stutter more and in the next... well the next that was where it had gotten a little weird.

That was where the unknown emotion filtered in and my uncertainty took over.

Pierce was a dynamic individual.

He was charismatic, bold, cocky, arrogant and a whole host of adjectives that I could use to describe an Alpha male.

He was similar to my friends but he seemed to be on a whole other playing level.

Every single one of those words when in reference to him, intimidated me.

I was the complete opposite of him in every way imaginable.

But despite that fear he also made me feel... tingly.

My cheeks burned as the word popped into my mind.

The tips of my ears felt hot.

It sounded... sexual.

As had been the dream I had had of him the night we met.

I rubbed my sweaty palms down the sides of my pants before opening the refrigerator back up and reaching in to pull out various ingredients to make myself a couple of sandwiches.

Along with the tingles, thoughts of Pierce brought with him jitters and butterflies and a jumbo-sized cup full of uncertainty.

So much uncertainty.

Like for starters, he was my boss.

He had full say over an important aspect of my life.

He could take away the job that I loved.

The way he treated me at times, I couldn't help but worry if it was something that he was already considering.

Then there was the fact that he had come to my home.

Come and not said why.

His ignoring of my repeated attempts to find out, bothered me.

On the one hand I knew I should only worry so much because despite the cold mocking person he had been, he had taken care of me but there was no denying some of his behaviors were questionable.

He was such a contradiction.

He was a frustratingly enigmatic man.

I liked simple and uncomplicated.

Pierce was anything but and that more than anything made me want to ignore him, as if I had a choice.

If Pierce wanted to see me, I wouldn't get much say in the matter.

His showing up on Saturday proved that.

Me being employed by him, was another undeniable factor that would put me in his path if he so chose.

It would help if I just knew why he had come.

Maybe then I wouldn't be in the state I was in now.

Then again, maybe not.

There was still the whole physical reaction thing to him that was messing with my head and my body.

The ringing of my cell-phone was welcome.

[reallyromealone]

Mikey Sano x male reader

Warnings: pet names (daddy, baby boy), degrading, rough sex

"P-please I'm begging you!" The poor grunt practically begged as he tried to kneel on the floor and looking at Mikey with a pleading look to spare his life as a glock was pressed between his eyes, hands broken and body battered while Mikey just looked indifferent "maybe if you hadn't tried to take what was mine this wouldn't be an issue" his voice cold and callous before pulling the trigger and staring at the spot where the mans head was before turning and leaving the torture chambers below the Botan Headquaters.

You see that grunt decided to try and get handsy with the Bonten leader's husband, being new and not actually knowing his boss even had a lover and just mistook the sweet looking man for some whore Sanzu could have called.

Mistakes like that are unforgivable.

No one was allowed to touch Mikey's doll without dire consequences and that low level grunt proved to be a good example for anyone to think twice before even looking at his beloved (Name).

(Name) sat on the leather couch in Mikeys office, dress shirt hanging loosely over his form, black lace male panties covering his lower half and a pretty collar wrapped around his neck with Mikes initials hanging as a gold charm with diamonds embedded into it, shaking slightly at the unwanted touch that happened only an hour earlier.

Sanzu had collected the young man from the penthouse per Mikeys request and some new grunt made the mistake of grabbing his ass as he seen a few members do with prostitutes who would come in regularly for Sanzu and Ran.

The room was deathly silent.

No remorse for the grunt as he was dragged away from the grunt as Sanzu took the other to the bosses office.

Mikey opened the door and smiled softly as he locked eyes with his pretty husband who shot up from the couch once the door clicked shut and hugged him closely, Mikey frowning when he felt him shake but could understand, it was surprising.

"Hey pretty boy, don't worry daddy handled the pest who thought he could touch you" Mikeys voice smooth as he cupped the others cheek, staring at him with his empty coal eyes, but the soft expression showed that he wasnt mad...well not at (Name).

Gently Mikey kissed his beloveds soft lips, enjoying the soft gasp as Mikey moved the hand that was placed on his lower back to grope the others soft plump ass.

No matter how times he played with his lovers body over the years he still reacted like a blushing virgin.

God he loved it.

"Daddy~" (Name) moaned out when Mikey moved his hand to tug at the others panties before ripping them off, and moved the two towards the couch and before (Name) could even process anything he was straddling the other.

Mikey pulled (Name) back to his hungry mouth, heavier than before with a need that sent sparks into (Name)s hardening cock as he opened his mouth to allow his daddy to reclaim his territory, both hands now on the boys ass, squeezing and bouncing his cheeks as if they were toys before spreading his cheeks and (Name) couldn't help but moan into the kiss as he felt the cool air from the air conditioner touch his hole.

Mikey was the first to pull away, pushing (Name) down and the other got the hint fast before getting on his knees, staring at his Daddy softly as the other unbuttoned his pants and released his throbbing cock, slapping (Name)s face with it "Make daddy cum and I will fuck that pretty little ass of yours" Mikeys voice deep and god did it do things to (Name).

Kissing the tip, (Name) tucked his thumb in his fist and squeezed, turning his gag reflex off before deep throating the other in one go, nose touching Mikey's groomed pubes as he forced himself to breath as best as he could with a 8 inch girthy cock stuffed down is throat and following his cheeks before bobbing.

Glancing up he looked into the others eyes, barely noticing the phone recording him as he continued his work, hands moved the others thighs to steady himself.

"So pretty sucking my cock like the little cock slut, cant wait till I fuck you stupid can you?" Mikey grunted out as he tangled his hand into the other's hair, pushing his cock in deeper before without warning, cumming down his little boy's throat.

Mikey's cock slid out of (Name)s mouth still semi hard as (Name) collected his breathing and showed his Daddy his mouth, all of his mum swallowed like the good boy he is.

"Such a good boy, swallowing daddies cum" petting (name)s hair before having (Name) go and bend over the heavy wooden desk, swatting his pump ass as be bent over, presenting his pink little ass that was begging to be filled.

"Always so good for daddy...my sweet boy" another swat at his ass cheek as (Name) let out a choked gasp at the cool sensation of lube dripping between his crack, where Mikey got it was a mystery (Name) didn't dwell on as a finger pressed into him and began thrusting.

"No matter how many times we do this you feel like a virgin!" He began thrusting his finger in and out before adding another and eventually another, before having three thick fingers stretching his abused hole.

"D-daddy~ 'nna cum!" (Name) slurred already fucked out as another slap to the ass shook his body.

"You can cum on this cock" Mikey grunted before violently ripping out his fingers and shoving his cock in with another slap to (Name)s reddened cheek and grinning when the other came loudly, white spurting out on the front of the deep mahogany desk and marble floor as Mikey began violently thrusting into (Name) and began using him as a cock sleeve.

"Daddy~Daddy~Daddy~" was all (Name) could manage to say as the grip on his hip began bruising, already feeling another orgasm build as Mikey let up on his ass cheeks and pulled (Name) back by the hair and harshly kissed him, teeth clanking as (Name) sucked on his daddies tongue, Mikey tasting him self on the others mouth as he continued to fuck his lover stupid, grinning as (Name)s tongue hung out of his kiss swollen mouth and eyes beginning to cross.

"God baby I love fucking you stupid, such a filthy cock slut for me" his harsh words made (Name) tighten around his leaking cock and slammed his hips hard, loads of semen pouring into the boys abused hole, forcing a second orgasm out of his lover.

Pulling out, he looked at (Name) who was dazed and fucked out before lifting the fucked out boy into the couch and kissed his forehead.

"Thank you daddy..." (name) managed to slur out as his delicate hands moved to stroke his cum filled belly with satisfaction.

"Rest now, because daddy is going to ruin your poor hole after he finished meeting" tucking his cock into his pants, he left his fucked out boy on the couch for him to come back to.

[moved2usagiiboo]

“1+2=3″

Syp; A collection of threesomes with Tokyo Revengers men. 

Ft; Mikey, Sanzu, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Benkei, and Wakasa 

Warnings; MMF, exhibition, degrading, oral, jealousy, praise, degrading (A tad bit), let me know if I missed anything. Minors do not interact. 

A/n; Still tryna figure out how i want to format my posts 🤧

                      ★  Mikey + Sanzu

Bonten Mikey doesn’t share. If he does anything it’s to prove who you belong to.

: ̗̀➛✎Mikey is a selfish lover, greedy, needy, obsessive, possessive. With Mikey what belongs to him is strictly his, he doesn’t believe in sharing. Why would he? Especially not with his right-hand man. He grew tired of you stealing glances at the pink-haired man, constantly seeking him out and engaging in conversation. Your eyes should be on him, it should be on Mikey and Mikey alone. “Don’t look away.” His voice is heavy as he positions his cock against your drooling slit. Your insistent pleads no longer hold meaning to him, he couldn't care less about your quivering arms that brace your body on the head of the bed. You try to focus on anything else, anything other than the piercing gaze that stares up at you from below. Your pretty and distressed face is all for him to see. He feels both disgusting and lucky to be in this situation, to see you in a new light. Mikey’s legs straddle either side of Sanzu’s stretched-out legs. Tip of his cock finally pressing against your slit, sliding down the length of your inner lips till he meets your hole. His hole. Arousal already coating the tip of his cock, the glossiness mixes with the cloudy precum already dripping from his tip. He has waited long enough. Positioning himself just right before hips slam into yours, hands gripping on the fats of your ass. Pushing your body away and slamming it back against him matching the violent speed and rhythm of his thrusts. Sanzu can only watch, he can’t touch, he can’t speak, nothing. His eyes focus on the way your tongue lulls out, how your arms are barely holding up. Pleads mixed with high-pitched wails go straight to both of their cocks causing a twitch. Even tucked behind the tight boxers and dress pants he can feel his dick react to everything. Watching the way his boss rams his cock in and out of your loud pussy. Multiple creamy white lines attached to both of your heats stretch out every time Mikey pulls back. Mikey is so pretty with redness spread across his face and his mouth agape as he takes his feelings out on your poor body. It doesn’t take long for your arms to give out completely. Body falling onto Sanzu’s chest, head resting up against his neck as your hands claw against the mattress. “Slut.” His cold tone makes it seem so much worse. You moan out sorry’s to Sanzu, whimpers right against his neck as Mikey's pace picks up. It doesn’t take long for Mikey to have your pussy clamping on his cock as your third orgasm hits you. The tightness doesn’t stop him from fucking you through your spasm, bringing himself to his release. Nails digging into your ass as his cock twitches up against your walls, pushing himself deeper inside you while pulling you back and against him by your arms as he fills you. Balls deep in your cunt, his creamy release paints seemingly deeper than just your cunt. “Mine.” Sanzu feels disgusted for watching but even worse for cumming in his pants at the same time as the both of you.  

                    ★  Hakkai + Mitsuya

Mitsuya would rather not share but he doesn’t mind sharing with Hakkai. He sees him as a little brother, it’s only fair that he helps him lose his virginity.

: ̗̀➛✎“S-She’s so tight.” Hakkai stutters over his words as he finally sinks his cock inside of your winking cunt. Constantly squeezing him of all he’s worth. Hakkai s’just so big, it's a shame he doesn’t know how to use it properly. You can see the outline of his cock peeking through your tummy. “You gotta loosen up, princess. How else is he fuck you, hm?” His hand seems so tender and sweet against your face, yet his words are condescending. “Taka-chan, want t'move.” Hakkai’s large hands grip onto your waist with hips slowly and erratically move. Trying to get any form of pleasure from your cunt. Outcomes a broken moan from your chapped lips, Suya's hand travels down your tummy.  The feel of his fingers alone against your belly causes you to twitch in the best way. “Just wait, Hakkai. My pretty girl needs a minute.” Two slender fingers press against your sensitive clit and you’re already whimpering. “Shh, princess. Get to work, yeah?” Freehand turning your head to the side where his pretty pink tip met your mouth, widening your mouth you took him in. Sucking in the side of your mouth as you bobbed your head, his cock muffled your whines as he toyed with your clit. “Go ahead, Hakkai.” Stuttering out thank you’s Hakkai begins to slowly meet his hips with yours. His eyes are shut closed as he fully immerses himself in the feeling of your walls. The tight walls squeeze around him every time he slides completely in. It doesn’t take him long to start fucking you properly, skin smacking against skin fuse with the sound of your filthy mouth slurping your boyfriend. Both holes drink any messes that spew from their cocks. The moment you adjust Mitsuya has one hand around your throat applying pressure as his hips jerk into your mouth, taking control of the pleasure. When Hakkai is ready to cum Mitsuya makes the whimpering man hold it. Not allowing him to finish until you do. “Don’t be selfish, ladies first.” Bringing poor Hakkai to tears as he slams his hips against yours trying to bring you to your orgasm before his own. It doesn’t last for long, one last harsh thrust and he’s spilling his heat into you. Filling your thirsty pussy to the brim. “M’sorry Taka-chan.” His apologies mean nothing as Mitsuya clicks his tongue. Hakkai isn’t leaving until he gives you a single proper orgasm. He should at least be able to do that, and he will no matter how long it takes.

                  ★  Benkei + Wakasa

Benkei’s princess is so small compared to him, what if he breaks her? Wakasa’s gonna have to step in and help the two idiots.

: ̗̀➛✎Wakasa’s lips press fluttering kisses from your jawline down to your neck and even further than that. Seldomly nipping at your skin to invoke a reaction – a pretty moan or slight gasp. Anything to let him know you feel good because of him. The curve between his thumbs and index on both hands cup from the side of either of your breasts. Both fingers press against your nipple as the other fingers brace your supple mounds up, holding all the weight with just those three. “So pretty.” The silent giant from behind you finally speaks up, pulling you in closer by your waist. Bareback that occasionally grazes against his naked chest now fully pressed together. “Gorgeous, love you so much.” Benkei’s large hands knead against your waist as he leans down to litter your neck with kisses in the same manner as Wakasa. Soothing touches from the two men ignite a fire in your lower region. Begging to be touched just like the rest of your body. Clit grinding against Wakasa’s knee as his attention is on your breasts, which he soon adverted to your cunt. Finally. “What’s wrong, princess? Not happy with this?” His smirk betrays his monotone voice, he knows what he’s doing, and it’s working. If only a lump wasn’t stuck in your throat when you tried to tell him – it’s so embarrassing to ask for, but neither of them read minds nor take hints. “Use your words, baby. I’ll give you anything you want; all you have to do is ask.” You’re trying, you are. A tense grip on Wakasa’s sleeves wishing they’d take the hint, it’s impossible to say – you don’t know-how. The leopard’s knee pushes against your clit, hard and you squeal in response. “You can make all this noise, but you can’t use your big girl words?” Wakasa is so cruel with his words and Benkei doesn’t help. Dragging your waist up and down making you grind against his friend’s knee. Forceful kisses against your cheek from Benkei have you melting for the both of them. S’still embarrassing, but if it's for them you’ll be able to say it. Harshly gulping down the lump and ignoring the anxious feeling you finally get your words out, whiny and small but you did it. “Good girl. Let’s get you on Benkei’s cock, yeah?”

[bludhavents]

Muffin Crumbs

pairing: Argyle x reader

summary: You work at the bakery next to Surfer Boy Pizza, and your routine with Argyle proves to be extra fun one night.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smoking, cursing. fluff!!

based on this request

Every evening at closing time, you were required to throw away the leftover pastries and other baked goods from the day. Your boss insisted that they would be too stale to serve the next day, and apparently giving them to the homeless shelter was a violation of some health code. You understood the need for freshly baked goods-- what you didn't understand was why there had to be so much waste at the end of each shift.

But you carried on tonight just as you did every other evening: You closed the shop, turning the sign on the door and stacking chairs on top of the small café tables that were marked with rings of condensation from the customers' coffees. Everything was properly wiped down, the leftover baked goods were in their trash bag, purposely separated from the actual bag of trash that you'd already taken out to the dumpster.

The bag of baked good would be given to your best friend and fellow waste-hater, Argyle. Since you started telling him about how many pastries you threw out, he'd insisted that you just give them to him instead. And it became routine. At the end of your shifts, you'd both meet behind the stores and you'd exchange the bag of baked goods for a botched pizza order. It was a happy, balanced, and all-around beautiful routine that the both of you had composed.

When you opened the back door, you saw Argyle already leaned up against the back door of Surfer Boy's Pizza, a bright smile on his face when you stepped out.

"What've you got for me today, my friend?" He walked over to you excitedly, trading you two pizza boxes for the bag of assorted donuts and strudels.

"Some kinda pop-tart thingies, donuts, kolaches, and I think there's a few muffins in there, too," you answered happily. The pizza boxes he'd handed you today were still warm, very unlike usual. "These are burning my arm."

"Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that. I messed 'em up on purpose so I'd have something to give you, man. Everyone decided to be on their game and perfect their craftsmanship today for some reason," he said as the two of you sat next to each other on the curb just like you always did, carrying on an easy conversation to decompress after your tiring day.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a blueberry muffin, dramatically falling over onto your lap after his first bite. His hair was splayed across your legs as he stared up at you hazily.

"Jesus, man," he groaned. "This is fucking delicioso. What's in this? Heaven?!"

"I've never tried it, actually." He held his hand up and you took a bite from the muffin, blinking hard at the otherworldly taste that entered your mouth. He was right, it had to have been Heaven.

"Man, you got crumbs all over me!" He complained, turning away from you.

The words sent you into a fit of giggles, which only launched more crumbs out of your mouth and into his hair. It had you dying, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air and choked down the bite. Argyle stood up, shaking his head around like a dog to get all of the pieces from his hair. You were completely doubled over at this point, weakly gripping onto the curb to keep you from lying out flat on the asphalt as you laughed hysterically at him.

"A-Argyle!" You struggled to regain your composure. "I'm so sorry."

"It's kind of hard to believe your apology when you're laughing the whole time, man!" He shouted through a mouthful of muffin. "Got me stressed out, man. Shit, this muffin is bangin'."

You watched him pull a joint from the pocket of his pants, and he offered it to you. You nodded, licking your lips and letting him place the joint between them. He raised the lighter and held it to the end, igniting the weed for you and taking his spot beside you once again. You hit it and passed him the joint, shifting so that your head was resting in his lap, eyes fixed on the night sky above.

"Isn't Surfer Boy's still open?" You asked, dragging one of the pizza boxes across the ground to your side. Argyle reached over you to grab a slice, not thinking before he placed the joint in your lips to free up his hand space.

"Yes, we are." He took a big bite of the pizza. You felt a goofy grin make its way onto your face at the sight of him-- pizza slice in one hand, muffin in the other, and smoke from your exhale floating up into his face.

"Should you be smoking on the clock?" Despite your concerned words, you still raised the roll to his face and held it there, his lips brushing lightly against your fingers as he took a drag. He turned to look down, smiling sweetly at you before blowing the smoke back into your face. You coughed, instinctually catapulting yourself onto your feet and swatting at the air around you.

"I always smoke at work, man. Part of the job." He shrugged it off, but his eyes widened at the sight of you taking a huge drag of the weed, moving back to him and getting right in his face. "No, man! You got crumbs on me, I exhaled on you. We're even. Do this and it's full on war."

You scrunched your nose at him, but complied, blowing the smoke straight up into the air instead, and laughing at the way it sparkled under the dim lights of the alley.

"Fine." You sat next to him, taking another drag before holding it to his mouth again. "I like doin' this. It's therapeutic. Helps me reach my Zen. My nirvana. My purgatory."

"Word," Argyle agreed, nodding slowly along with your statements. "I think it's the muffins. They really bring out a different side of me, man."

"I think it's the Purple Palm Tree Delight." You leaned your head on his shoulder and inhaled the smoke again, tapping out the ash onto the cement.

"It'll do that do ya." He didn't make you lift your arm to help him. This time, he bent down on his own accord, wrapping his lips around the joint and breathing in deeply. "Sweet stuff."

You hummed, reaching down to grab a slice of pizza from the box. It was still warm-- the cheese pulled when you lifted the slice, and the both of you freaked out over it.

"Dude! Did you see that cheese pull? That was easily top 10 cheese pulls in the world!" You exclaimed, shaking Argyle by the arm. His jaw was wide open, eyes fixed on the slice in your hands.

"Wow, man!" A large smile broke onto his face. "If Jonathan was here with his fancy camera, he would've totally taken a picture of that. Definitely going in the record books."

"Pizza made by Argyle, cheese pull done by Me," you said dramatically, waving your hands in the air to emphasize your enthusiasm. "We are champions, good sir. Champions!"

Argyle smiled widely, slinging the arm holding pizza around your shoulders and whooping loudly into the night sky, followed by laughter from the both of you that lasted a lifetime.

[ssaeri]

crushing popcorn beneath my feet iii

☆ tags: mammon x gn!reader, y/n is a carnival booth worker, mammon keeps spending money on their booth to spend time with them, y/n's an expert thrower and mammon's a bad student, mini-series ☆

☆ taglist: @my-perfect-machine ☆

"This stupid game is rigged."

You stare down Mammon's pointing finger with an amused smirk, and he hates how confident you look, hates how badly he wants to look away. Dressed in a brightly striped uniform shirt and a black apron over black pants, you're kind of cute...in a clown sort of way. Shrugging, you return to picking up stray baseballs and tossing them back into their plastic bin.

"Take it up with my boss, pretty boy — I'm just in charge of manning the money. If I were you, though, I'd focus more on doing my homework. This is the third day in a row that you're here, you realize that?" you ask. The last ball lands with a solid thud, and you smile at him over your shoulder, hands on your hips. "Unless the allowance you get from big brother Lucifer is big enough to waste on mediocre prizes."

"O-oi!" He scowls. He knew he shouldn't have come in his RAD uniform, but he didn't have time to go home and change before your shift ends. "What's with that dig, huh? The great Mammon makes his own money, thank ya very much."

You press your lips together like you know something he doesn't, but you don't say anything else.

"Anyway, stop changin' the topic. The game is rigged, and it's not fair to innocent participants like me."

"You?" You scoff. You're by the edge of the booth again. "Mammon, Avatar of Greed, your reputation precedes you. Trust me, you should be the last person to talk about fairness, or should I remind you about the funnel cake scam you tried to pull last month?" You raise your eyebrows. "Or the beanbag toss game before that? The one where you blocked the holes with black fabric and, what, hoped people wouldn't notice?"

Those were ridiculous plans, he admits, and the verbal thrashing he got from Lucifer still rings in his ears, but he only got caught because those stands were half-planned. He's gotten better at designing carnival games; just give him some time, and he'll find a way to set up shop on the outskirts of the grounds again. Maybe he'll even get Levi to donate some plushies — the expensive limited edition ones will attract some eyes — and boom. Easy money.

You lean across the counter, head tilted, and after spending so much time observing your expressions, he knows now that whatever you're thinking is going to be—

"Have you considered the fact that you're just not good?"

—annoying as hell. Seriously, how do you not quake before one of the strongest demons in Devildom? Sure, he's more easy-going than some of his brothers, but he's still the second-born and that has to count for something.

Then again, you're the same one who lied to Lucifer's face, vaguely threatened him, and lived to tell the tale.

"I'm better than almost all of ya customers! I bet the boards are nailed down or somethin'. There's just no way I've been playin' so many rounds and not winnin' the grand prize." This may have started because he had a special request for you, but at this point, he wonders if his pride is on the line. "Wait a minute, why don't you prove it? Come down here and throw some yourself."

You shake your head with an exaggerated pout. "Sorry, love, but I'm on the clock. No time to fool around with you," you say, but then you pause. "Actually, how about this: my shift tomorrow doesn't start until the evening. If you come a little earlier than that, I'll show you how to throw before I have to work."

This isn't a date. Technically, it's a lesson, but Mammon supposes that it's as close as he'll get for now. And this time, he'll definitely dress to impress.

Which is why he shows up in his signature leather jacket and jeans, yellow-tinted sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. This look never fails to drive people crazy, though as he approaches your stand, he belatedly remembers that the last he wore this, you saw him on the run from Lucifer. Not his coolest moment. He sees you leaning against the booth's side, smiling up at the current worker as your fingers fly across your D.D.D — add texting without looking to your list of talents.

You notice him out of the corner of your eye. "Hey there!" You wave, pocketing your device as he gets closer. Then you gesture to the demon manning the stand in your place. "This is my friend, Belial. Belial, this is the one I've been telling you about, the one that wants to learn."

"Ah, yes," Belial murmurs, lips curling into a sneer that you don't blink at. "The pretty boy, non? I hear that you have not been able to win at all. A bit of a — how to say — losing streak, hm?"

"It's Mammon to you. The great Mammon, if you're unlucky enough. And s'not because I've been losing; I can knock 'em over easy."

"That is not what they have been telling me," Belial says, nodding at you. "No matter. You have the best teacher in town. You know y/n has the highest win ratio out of all of the workers — almost eighty percent. It is a good thing they are a worker because they would clean out our supply as a customer."

You give an easy laugh, waving off the praise. "You're making up numbers, Bel; lucky shots, that's all they were."

Now that Belial mentions it, Mammon's never actually seen you throw before. If you're as good as your friend's saying...maybe he's just been embarrassing himself this whole time. You gesture for him to join you at the counter before handing off two baseballs. It's maybe thirty minutes before your shift is supposed to start, but you're already partially dressed in your uniform. The striped shirt, a long-sleeve version for the gradually cooling temperature, is tied around your waist.

The third ball remains in your hand, your fingers curling around it as you evaluate the targets. "Since you're my guest today, why don't you choose? Which one should I aim for?"

"Go big or go home, right?" He points straight at a Hell Challenge one. But then he backtracks, murmuring, "Unless that one's too hard for a warm up? You can start with the—"

Your wind-up is so quick he barely sees it, but he feels how hard your foot connects with the ground as you swing your body into the throw. The ball hits its mark, dead-center, with a solid thwack! and Mammon swears he sees smoke as it spins in place. The ball drops, and so does his jaw.

"Eighty percent." Belial whistles lowly. "I told you."

PT. 4: here

[sukirichi]

earned it [01]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it.  But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

request. (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + (dumbification, praising kink)

cw. smut, overstimulation, slight dumbification, praising kink, slight degradation, spanking, belt whipping, explicit murder, rough sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), multiple sex scenes, riding, slight angst, veryyy unedited, sex when standing up, sex in pretzel position, dom! gojo, manhandling

notes. 🦋 anon, thanks so much for the request! i hope you love this one, i absolutely poured my heart and soul into this! minus the effort to edit, i’ll just edit this when i’m no longer sick lol

series masterlist

There he was again.

Working in a high-class restaurant located in the heart of the city meant you were no stranger to seeing people of power and titles, but he never failed to make everyone stop in their tasks every time he came around.

You don’t know his name, much less his usual orders since his usual table – middle 98 – wasn’t in your rotation. But you’re held captive in his presence, attention drawn to his broad shoulders clad in what seemed like a hand-stitched three piece suit, his striking white hair falling down in smooth tendrils. There’s something about the way he walks – confident doesn’t begin to describe it – that makes everyone surrounding him feel like they’re merely spectators to the enigma that was him, and he carries this observation proudly in his shoulders, that mischievous smile never absent from his face.

Your co-worker tugs at your sleeve, nearly knocking the empty wine glasses away from your tray. Barely catching them as you falter, you bow down to them in apology. No matter how intriguing the mysterious midnight comer was, you were still working. You needed to keep your head focused and in the game.

Hours pass by of shifting from one table to another, your hands beyond cramped from scribbling down such intricate orders. It’s a miracle you were hired in a place as luxurious as this in the first place when you couldn’t pronounce, much less spell the main dishes, but you proved through determination and hard work that the miracle was also accompanied by your grit. It didn’t matter that you were the youngest part-timer with little to no experience – unexpected things always happened when you’re backed in a corner, leaving you with no choice but to follow through.

This corner was nothing less than the struggle to make ends meet. While you’re lucky to have gotten accepted in one of the top state universities, there still came the issue of tuition fees, plus dorm occupations.

You don’t have the privilege to complain or whine that your experiences are probably not on par with what they expect of you, so you have to do your best; you have to keep pushing no matter how hard it gets and you’re barely awake for class the next day.

Clocking out, you bid goodbye to your co-workers and thank them for their hard work, about to leave through the back door when you hear his voice.

Your gaze lands on him from outside the kitchen, body twisted in the direction of where he sat, long legs crossed one another. He’s thanking the waiter for the wine, and you wince, because it isn’t just any wine. That’s one of the drinks locked in the special cellar because of its hefty price, yet there he was, swirling the red liquid around in his glass as if the amount of zeroes never bothered him. He’s reading something from his tablet, head tilted to the side as he drinks, and that’s when you see it.

It’s so miniscule you would’ve believed it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you, but you’ve seen in this class during one of your laboratory practices, the burn marks on your wrist a painful reminder of your carelessness.

Your boss’ shouts of warning fall onto deaf ears as you push past the double doors, feet moving on its own. The edge of the glass makes contact with his lips, gray lashes flattering across his cheeks, while time and sound becomes nothing but background noise to you. Your cry is inaudible when your hand pushes the glass away from his grip, the sounds of it shattering into pieces like a wake-up call to both of you.

For the first time since you’ve met him, the faintest look of surprise crosses over his face. His hands remain into a reflexive hold of the now missing glass, azure eyes cutting through yours.

You bow down to apologize – you can’t believe you’ve just done that and how his suit was stained and his pants soaked – but the words that left his lips stun you beyond disbelief, effectively freezing you in your state. His voice holds the same iciness as the blue of his pupils, but to you – just for you – there’s a tinge of awe behind them.

“Odd,” he says, “To think my life would be saved by you.”

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutched on the blanket covering your bare frame. There’s sweat forming on your hairline as you look around, wincing at the sliver of light passing through the curtains. Silver, ceiling length draperies obscure the view of the city skies outside, a huge reminder of where you are now – somewhere between the past and the future that’s about to come – and the king-sized bed you lay on almost feels like a dream.

Right. It’s been two years since you’ve met Satoru, the once mysterious customer turned into lover, an arrangement between financial aid and companionship solidifying your relationship with him now.

Your face burns at the sight of your clothes scattered all over your shared room. Your lace panties somehow end up on the chandeliers, the expensive material of your silk dress about to slide off the humongous TV and your bra hanging off the doorknob.

The light ache between your legs does nothing to appease your embarrassment. Even after two years of being with Satoru, it’s still difficult to believe he’s chosen you of all people.

He could’ve had anyone he wants. Not only is he beautiful, young, successful, and smart, he’s also an absolutely god in the sheets, your throbbing core attesting to his never ending array of his skills. Truly, Gojo Satoru was perfect, so much so that you pale in comparison to him no matter how much he’s assured you you’re the only he has eyes on.

It doesn’t make sense to you, but does it have to?

Love never required a logical reason for it to blossom, and you left it at that, fearful that it may just ruin whatever happened between the two of you. Besides, if Satoru wants you, then who were you to question that?

You swing your legs off the side of the bed to make him breakfast, but your legs shake upon contact to the floor, still very much sore after last night’s events.

Satoru’s been away for work for three days, and even though it wasn’t that much of a distance, he still acted like it’s been forever. He sure took his time with you, making you cum three times just with his tongue and fingers alone. He’s a cheeky and mischievous man; there’s no telling whether his words are just sweet lies or plain facts, but if there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that Satoru keeps his promises to heart. If he says he’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk the next day, he means it, and now you’re left groaning back onto the bed.

You’re thankful that it’s a weekend. Had it been a school day, it’s going to be an absolute pain in the ass. No matter how much he’s covered your school fees, you still won’t risk missing a day.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend clothed in nothing but his boxers, the smile on his face huge at seeing you glare at him. “Aw, baby,” he coos, sliding himself next to you, carrying a tray of pancakes topped with blueberries with him. Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulder and laughs into your air when you grumble at the soreness, which he tries to kiss away. “Sorry not sorry for last night. It’s not my fault I’m so addicted to you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, fighting back that stupid fluttering feeling in your chest. Your attention is diverted to the luscious, fluffy pancakes, and your brows furrow at the sight. “Did you make this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You roll your eyes at him; his energy was always off the charts even after fucking you into oblivion. Thanking him under your breath, you reach for the breakfast, eternally grateful that it’s breakfast in bed because you can’t walk anywhere right now. However, Satoru pries your hands away from the fork, making you lean back instead as he spoon feeds you.

It’s a little humiliating – and he’s basking in this judging from the smirk he wears – but you give in anyway. Unlike him, your stamina isn’t monstrous. You’re still a human and you’re utterly tired, the glare endless through mouthfuls of the pancake. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re my baby,” he retorts, smacking a kiss right at your lips.

You complain harder, ever so annoyed that you could never seem to throw him off guard and have the upper hand for once. Satoru eases the frown on your face by kissing you harder, his hand cradling your neck. He’s a fucking tease; his tongue languid and sensual as he tastes the honey coating your lips, sucking your bottom lip inside his mouth before nipping at it.

At the back of your mind, you’re wondering how each moment with him results into touching. Not that you really mind, of course, your stomach only flares up with heat at the thought he wants you just as much as you crave him.

Breakfast is soon forgotten right after seven bites as Satoru leans back against the headboard, thumb soothing circles at your hipbone to guide you on top of him.

He pulls away to breathe, a thin thread of saliva and honey between your lips present, and it’s so erotic that his eyes darken with lust, hands gripping a little tighter. You’re still bare on top of him, hardened breasts on display, but he holds himself back with heavy breaths, not wanting to ruin you further than he already has.

Satoru’s lips lands on your shoulder instead, thumb grazing under the weight of your breasts. He’s kissing you everywhere, almost as if he expects the flutter of his lips to heal you. You gladly let him taste you as he pleases, neck tilted to the side while you catch your breath.

The transition of him from an absolute freak in bed to the caring, compassionate boyfriend he is never fails to give you whiplash.

“How’s your studies?” he murmurs into your skin, his touch feather-like in caressing your back. You feel the hairs stand up at where he grazes them, shivering at the sensuality and tenderness he holds you with. “Doing good? My sweetheart still top of her class?”

“Hmm,” you hum back, planting yourself firm in his lap. He’s already hard under you, his cock twitching when your bare cunt presses on top of his tip, but he controls himself, focusing on your state instead. “My grades are tip-top, all thanks to your support,” Satoru smiles when you’re the one placing kisses all over his face this time, his giggles almost child-like.

Time flies by as you lay there in his arms. You’re lulled back into sleep at the sound of his heart beat, and just as you’re dozing off, Satoru pats your ass. “Baby,” he calls out, “Let me wash you first, then we’ll cuddle afterwards. What do you think about that?”

“That’d be great, I feel sticky.”

Satoru laughs, pulling panicked squeals from you when he suddenly hoisted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. He kicks the door open before turning the heater on in the Jacuzzi, placing you under the shower first.

You close your eyes under the sprinkle of water, hands splayed all over his chest. Your legs are still wobbling, no thanks to him railing you as if there was no tomorrow, but he holds you upright, kneading his hands into your hair then washing every crevice of your body. When you open your eyes, you see him kneeling down to rub the loofah all over your legs, a slight pinch in his brows from sheer focus.

Your heart beats loudly on your chest, unable to process that the Gojo Satoru is on his knees, his touch nothing less of worshipping as if you were a divine being in his eyes.

It makes you breathe sharply as his face comes up before your core, his tongue darting out for a moment before he looks away, focusing on cleaning you up afterwards. His control and care for your well-being leaves you speechless, leaves you breathless, leaves you wanting him more and more and more that you’re kissing him again the moment he brings you both to his Jacuzzi.

He’s taken his boxers off to enjoy the feeling of skin brushing against skin, the fuzz of bubbles foaming up at your breasts only enticing him to kiss you with equal fervent passion.

You’re grinding down on his dick, his length encased between your lips that are extremely warm in comparison to the cool water. Finally, Satoru is stuttering beneath you, little whines leaving his breath as he kneads your ass, resisting the urge to slap the smooth flesh.

“Satoru,” you moan, “N-need you now, please.”

Fuck, his name on your lips mixed with your moans are enough to make him want to lose his restraint and just fuck you hard and deep there. He growls at how unaware you are of your effect on him, and he’s nothing short of starving in his kisses, never getting tired of tasting you over and over again. He wants to keep kissing you until your scent and taste is imprinted on his skin, to carry you around with him even when you’re not there, because he loves you, and he’s never loved anyone this much before. Especially for people like him, love was nothing but a myth.

Everything is a fantasy with you, a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. If you were to ask him to give up everything for you this instant, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

His heart is enslaved by your existence, and he nods, helping you lift your hips up to align his cock to your entrance. He takes note of your soreness as you slowly sink down on his cock, swallowing your whimpers through open-mouthed kiss. You’re shaking inside his arms, tiny scratches mixed with mewls making its way on his chest, further adding to the litter of scars already painted on his body.

Your head lands on his shoulder the second he bottoms out. Satoru groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering down on him, so warm and so tight that he has to lean his head back on the headrest just to catch his breath.

“You ride me, baby,” he manages through pants. “I’ll let you set the pace – do what’s comfortable with you.”

Your jaw clenches at the same time you clamp down on him one more time, eliciting another sinful moan from your lover. A lazy smirk graces your face as you ride him slowly, the image of the almighty Gojo Satoru falling apart at your ministrations burned at the back of your mind. You’ll replay this memory every time he leaves for work again, and the dreadful thought of having to watch him leave one more time fuels you to bounce on him harder, nails dug into his shoulder.

Satoru winces at the slight sting but doesn’t stop you anyway; he’s no stranger to pain. In fact, he’s a master of that and many more in more ways than one, though you didn’t know that – and he’ll never let you know that.

His eyes snap open at the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the water sloshing out the Jacuzzi. He’s met with the sight of you clutching the edges of the tub, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fuck yourself harder on his cock. Your breasts bounce right in front of his eyes, tempting him to latch a mouth around it, which he does, the sudden flicking of his warm tongue on your nipples driving you to the edge.

Your soreness becomes a hazy memory of the past with each slide down his dick, thighs burning from the exertion. Satoru is lapping up your breasts and palming the other expertly, his breath hot on your skin.

Something familiar coils into your lower abdomen with each hard thrust, and you throw your head back, moaning his name as if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. You’re growing tired; he can tell from the way you’re barely lifting your hips, but you’re so close, so near, that Satoru takes it upon himself to push you both right where you wanted to be.

Your moan comes out breathless the moment Satoru grips at your hips, snapping his hips upwards at the same time he guides your body to crush down on him. He’s the one controlling your body, but you’re falling on top of him with no reserve, your weight slamming down to his groin in full force that he’s faltering. Satoru is entranced by the motion of your hips gyrating around the head of his cock, the wavering grin on your face a telltale you’re enjoying the act of destroying him, but he lets you – it’s only fair after the countless times he’s done the same with you. But oh, he’ll have you again and again, and he proves his endless desire for you by forcing himself deep to your most sensitive spots, the glimpse of your mouth hanging open as you come making his cock twitch.

Satoru squeezes your hips as he situates you flat on his cock, groaning as he came in thick spurts. You mewl, scratching at his chest as he rides his high out with a few more sloppy thrusts.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers at the top of your hair, well-aware that your oversensitivity is clouding your mind. But he can’t help it, not when you feel so good around him like this. “Just a little more, I’ll be – fuck – right there, oh yeahhh,” he drawls out breathlessly, his cock twitching with the last strings of cum until he grows boneless inside you.

Satoru pulls his cock out, chest heaving up and down from that earth-shattering orgasm. In all honesty, he’s confident he could give you an even better one, but your lids are already fluttering close that he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your temple as a silent you did well.

Somewhere through your half-awake state, you manage to card your fingers through his hair, voice small and weak as you ask, “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Satoru’s eyes lour with something unreadable, and he’s thankful you don’t get to see the sudden glooming of his face. He gently pushes your head to rest on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at his rippling reflection in the water. In his eyes, he sees the truth – he sees a monster holding an innocent angel he lives to protect – the truth he wants to conceal. He can’t even fathom the possibility of you finding out about who he really is, much less what he does that enables him to provide you with everything you need.

He’s the demon himself, caressing someone as pure as you in his arms, his eyes and true self sinister except for the gentle kisses he leaves at the shell of your ear.

If it keeps you safe, he doesn’t mind becoming even more of a monster if it means keeping you safe.

So he keeps you right where you can’t witness the slight moments of vulnerability in which his horns reveal itself, hugging you tight and possessively in the fear he’ll lose the only thing that matters most to him.

“I have a meeting tonight,” is all he says, is what he always says.

He’s mysterious and aloof, too vague every time you inquire him about what he does for a living. Usually, you’d feel worried or even wary that maybe he doesn’t trust you as much as you originally thought, but you’re too tired to question him further, and he takes advantage of your weakness wholeheartedly. All to keep you safe.

Satoru closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, no longer bothered by the fact each step he took is getting him closer and closer to a point of no redemption.

He’s not worried about that anymore, not when his salvation is right in his arms, wrapping him with your love and false sense of safety that it becomes the lie he feeds himself every night just to keep going on.

“I just want to be with you a little longer.”

This time around, Satoru tells the truth.

The rust of blood dripping off the concrete walls is as normal to Satoru as breathing is for everyone else. He doesn’t falter in his movements, doesn’t scrunch his nose at the stench, and he doesn’t waver from swinging his arm back, the heavy weight of the wrench already wielded in his hand.

Someone dared come up to their base to face him head-on.

He has to admit, he was impressed with their guts, but now he feels empty save for a slight sliver of irritation at the man’s bloodied face. He’s panting after coughing up blood so much, his face unrecognizable after the beating Satoru gave him, teeth splattered on the floor. Satoru’s right hand man, Geto, stands at the side, silently inspecting his nails.

They’d been going at this for hours now, yet they seemed to be right where they were at the beginning. Torture was usually an effective method of gathering information, but this hostage seemed to be on the same par of monstrous as Satoru from his unyielding nature, even had the audacity to laugh.

Satoru stops in his tracks, a brow raised at what seemed to be so funny.

“Everyone spoke highly of you,” he spat his blood out, his busted eye twitching under Satoru’s stone cold gaze. “They told me you were barbaric, ruthless, the most feared mafia boss out here, but you’re pathetic now, aren’t you? You’re not the same Six Eyes who sees all they claimed you to be,” Satoru watched warily when his hostage smirked, the same one he always wore just moments from bashing the skull out of someone. It’s because he’s so familiar with it that Satoru immediately puts up his walls, Geto stepping beside him with his gun gleaming under his coat. As expected, the man does not falter, his laughter merely increasing in volume. “You’ve grown soft, Gojo. Your little lover is your weakness, it’s written all over your face. Tell me, what’s stopping you from ending my life already? Afraid that if she finds out, she might push you away?” When Gojo doesn’t answer, the man clicks his tongue. “I fucking knew it.”

Geto moves quicker than his boss. He draws his gun and aims it right between his eyes, only to be stopped by Satoru’s indifferent tone. “Stop.”

“But boss-”

“Why did you come here?” he stabs the man in the thigh with a knife, his screams of pain alleviating enough to distract the painful clenching of his chest. “I don’t believe you came here just to prove the rumors true. Now you tell me, why have you come here?” Satoru slams his fist down on the knife, the blade pushing past through muscles and hitting deep to the bone. “Answer me.”

“Th-there’s a drive in my pocket. Open it and you’ll see.”

The man doesn’t stop squirming as Geto rummages through his jacket, nodding to his boss once they got hold of the slick black device. Geto immediately plugs it to the monitor, several photographs popping up in a few seconds, and those few seconds were all it took to bring the infamous mafia boss down.

Because they weren’t just photos, they were photos of you.

Of you laughing with your friends, of you hugging Satoru’s arm in one of your dates, of you kissing him under the streetlight and even an intimate photo of you going down on him while he’s driving. It must be taken from a street cam judging from the blurry quality, but it’s crystal clear to him anyway, and Satoru’s mind muddles with thoughts darker than he once believed he’s capable of. He feels his anger bloom like fire licking up at his skin, his nerves bursting through, and he’s so obvious, so predictable that his hostage guffaws.

“I was right, I was right-!”

“You mean her?” his voice drips down with so much indifference, it shocks even he himself. His hostage shuts up at the sudden change of Satoru’s aura, that dark, fearsome aura that had people begging him to kill them as an act of mercy coming back to life. The man clamps his mouth shut, chills running down his spine because it’s no longer the same Satoru he mocked pulling the knife out from his thigh.

No, this is the Gojo Satoru, the devil incarnate himself, and he’s made the huge mistake of believing he would be affected by a mere woman. Satoru reads the fear on his face too easily, not bothering to hide his sigh as he twirls the bloodied blade between his fingers.

“She’s nothing to me. She’s just another bitch, another paid pussy. Favorite of the month, you could say, but nothing of worth to me,” he announces, ignoring Geto who’s stiffened up at the corner. “Did you really come all the way here just to see if you could find my weakness? If so, then your organization is a lot dumber than I thought, and I hate people who waste my time.”

“No, no, please, I was just jok-” his eyes widen when Satoru snaps his fingers, and Geto rushes to his boss with his gun. “Please, no, I didn’t think she was just a bitch-”

The man never got to finish his words.

A loud ‘bang’ echoes around the room, followed by a slight snap when his head falls backwards. Blood drips from the hole sitting in between his head, the aim perfect and flawless even with Satoru not looking back. He’s still Gojo Satoru, leader of the Gojo Mafia Clan, and he’s not the most feared leader in history for no reason. He’s always been blessed with a physical prowess and fighting abilities that allowed him to take on other clans by himself, but he’s changing. There’s now a chink in his armour, and people are starting to notice.

If he doesn’t do anything about it soon…

“Sir,” Geto begins, following the rushed footsteps of Satoru outside the hall, where his security is lined up with guns poised and ready to risk their lives for him. This was his power, this was his legacy – and this is who he was.

A killer. A monster. A demon – he’s everything you wouldn’t love.

“I know, Geto, I know,” Satoru says through gritted teeth, his bloody hands clenched into fists. He already knows what he’s supposed to do; he doesn’t need another reminder of it. “You don’t have to tell me anything I know of already. Now send that body back as a warning. I’m going home for tonight.”

Geto is stunned, and he’s got every right to be. After all, in his boss’ 28 years of existence, not once has he called anywhere or anyone home.

He’s always claimed himself to be irredeemable, to be unworthy of love and forgiveness, but slowly yet surely, he was beginning to look at life differently after meeting you, after loving you. The word ‘home’ was never in his vocabulary, and yet, every time your face comes up in his mind, it’s the only word he can think of.

He came home a lot earlier than you expected him to. You’re hunched over the table, legs swinging back and forth as you finish your school packets when the door chimes with the familiar beep. It’s only midnight and he’s already here, the excitement manifesting in you as you jump off the stools, running to greet your beloved.

Satoru ends up as a blur of frantic hands tugging his tie off, his scowl seething with anger and regret pouring off of him in waves.

Before you could say anything, he has you pinned on the wall, one knee inside your legs to keep you upright. Satoru is kissing you, hard, one hand raised to keep both your wrists planted above your head. You’re moaning at his aggressiveness, the sounds encouraged by his erection poking at you from your silk robe.

It’s not rare for him to come home in need of a fuck to clear his head, but…something feels different this time around. He feels different, almost like an entirely new person.

Satoru pulls away to press his forehead to yours, his eyes hooded with lust and lips bruised from the kiss. You’re confuzzled; your lover is the exact same person standing before you, the same person grazing at your breasts until your nipples harden at his touch, so then why does it feel like the person who left and came back are entirely two different people.

“Can I fuck you, angel? Please?”

Your words die down your throat.

Satoru’s never said please before, much less look this devastated as he asks to have you. He always says it with exuberant confidence, his present frown usually a smile. There’s no trace of happiness or even playfulness in his eyes this time around. Instead, they’re filled with fear – desperation, even.

You say yes before you realize it, but it’s enough for Satoru. It feels like he’s only been waiting for that word before he goes on a rampage, for his lips are on yours again, patting your thighs as a silent command to jump. You follow his orders and kiss him feverishly until it becomes a battle for dominance, tongue and teeth clashing against the other. Your hands are tugging at his hair from how rough he’s grabbing at your hips, spanking the sensitive flesh that draws a whimper at you.

You don’t know how Satoru manages to find his way to the leather couch even with his eyes closed, but he takes you there, no longer gentle as he throws your weight down. You’re falling, falling, falling as your knees hit the material, cheeks pressed against the headrest. You turn back to kiss him one more time, but Satoru keeps you down there, the sound of his belt unbuckling reaching your ears.

Satoru wraps the leather around his palm, kissing you flat on the lips just as he slaps the material to your ass. He’s pushed your robe to bunch up at your waist, groaning into your mouth upon the realization you’ve been walking around the house butt-naked.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he nips at your lips, feeding off of the pained moans coating his senses at each whip of his belt. “No underwear while I’m gone – you’re begging to be fucked, angel. You’re so filthy,” he swings his arm back to extend the length of the belt, squeezing your ass before he whips it harder against your flesh. You scream at the contact, nails ripping the leather couch and a slight puddle of drool on your lips.

“S-Satoru!”

“What?” he snaps, gripping your jaw, his eyes replaced with something animalistic as he stares at you. The love is gone in his eyes, your lover almost unrecognizable from the way he whips you again. You jut forwards, arousal pooling and dripping down his sofa. His eyes trail down your gushing pussy, nostrils flared before throwing his belt to the other side of the room. The buckle hits one of his expensive vases until it comes crashing down, the sound of it nostalgic to the first time you met him. “Can’t talk, huh, baby? What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” you blurt out, wiggling your hips sensationally at his already throbbing dick. “Please fuck me.”

You suppose you should’ve been more careful with your words, because Satoru lives to please, and if you tell him to do something, you can expect he’ll give his everything.

He knocks the wind out of your lungs by squeezing your waist, sliding himself into you one, full thrust. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but it’s too fast, too early, that the sudden stretch is painfully pleasurable. Satoru delivers one more smack to your flesh that makes it bounce, his growls loud and ragged as he pounds into you.

You’re clutching at the backrest, eyes shut tight as all your attention diverts to the heat in your core. You wish you could see his face, hold his hand or see the way he admires you while he fucks you, but you can’t see anything. Tonight, you could only feel.

Each thrust sends the couch a little ways forward, his balls slapping against your ass. He’s cursing left and right, more focused on getting his anger out his system than pleasuring you. It’s a drastic change to your lover’s behavior in bed, yet you can’t find any muscle in your body that denies this. Satoru can be rough, but he never really goes all out. One way or another, he manages to hold back for your sake, but his mind’s a mess, the voices in his head screaming louder that it drowns out the need to make you cum first.

He’s relentless, grip bruising the harder he fucks into you. You know you’re gone in the instance Satoru plants one foot beside you, the angle causing him to hit deeper.

Satoru ends up fucking into your cervix with each hard thrust, fisting his hand under your robe while he slams forward. It’s so intense that your vision blurs, a faltered grip on the couch. You’re falling limp under his ministrations, his dick successfully hitting that spot that has you seeing white. You’re screaming, babbling nonsense while Satoru uses you as his own fuck toy, pushing past your tight walls and relishing in the way you hug his cock snugly.

He came first, his thrusts growing sloppy and stuttering for a moment. Satoru pulls out so quickly from you that you’re left gasping for air at the sudden emptiness, and that’s when you feel his cum landing on your lower back.

You’re too slow, too weak – or perhaps he’s too strong, too fast – to react properly to his movements.

Satoru doesn’t let you catch your breath as he throws you over his shoulder, your face nearly smacking his ass. You feel dizzy at this position, and the voice in your head tells you that you should be scared he’s manhandling you like this, but seeing him this way – so reveled, so angry, so out of control – has you rubbing your legs, core dripping at the thought of how he’s going to use you tonight.

Your eyes widen when he doesn’t head for the bedroom. You were so sure he’d take you there, but Satoru lays you flat on the marble countertops of the kitchen, the cold biting into your skin.

Satoru doesn’t waste another second before he spreads your legs open and dives into your cunt. You squeal, legs instinctively closing around his head when you feel his tongue lick a flat stripe at your pussy, but he only pushes them apart, encircling your ankles hard to keep you open.

You know he’s strong, but you’re still surprised that he’s capable of rendering you motionless, powerless like this. Your mind wanders off to a dangerous path in wonders of how else he’s hurt someone like this – whether intentionally or unintentionally – but he immediately pulls you back to reality when he sucks your clit, his eyes direct with yours.

His hands trail upwards to squeeze at your breasts, the immediacy of it all firing up that tight knot in your stomach that he failed to snap a while ago.

Satoru’s nose rubs at your skin the harder he sucks at your clit, tugging it upwards until you’re whining around him. It’s always so erotic to see his pretty face buried in your cunt like this; you’ll never get used to him eating you like you’re his last meal. He laps up your juices like a starved man, his tongue prodding between your lips and slurping everything you offer him, one of his arms retracting to slide two fingers inside your sopping hole.

You moan at the sudden intrusion. The sounds of your moans mixing in with the lewd squelching of your dripping pussy is extremely embarrassing, even more so because you’re actually gushing down his palm.

Your juices spread all over his face, and Satoru is greedy, thirsty for more. He pumps harder into you, curling them against the ridges of your walls, and finally, finally you’re there. Your orgasm washes down on you violently that Satoru has to keep a palm flat down on your stomach, his tongue not ceasing from lapping up your juices. You’re convulsing from his hold, stuttered moans rewarding to his ears.

He doesn’t stop coaxing your wetness out of your cunt, his fingers working you out and easing the previous pain of when he entered you without warning. Satoru leans up to help you sit up, his lips colliding with yours for a much gentler kiss this time around.

You cup his cheeks, feeling him slide your body across the counters. Your arousal that he’s failed to clean up remains there until it spreads all over the back of your thighs, the feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but you’re more focused in his tongue dancing with yours. He tastes sweet – like mint and sugar – but his moans are sweeter, the sound dulcet and making you weak on your knees as you taste yourself on him.

Satoru tugs you forward, panic flooding you when you feel nothing under you. You feel like you’re falling again and you immediately encircle your arms around his neck, but he chuckles through the kiss, quick reflexes put into work as he carries you.

The kiss is sloppy yet heated, both of you unable to focus properly when he’s growing hard again. You expect him to take you to the bedroom to finish things for once and for all, but he’s impatient – this much you know the moment he walked in, but somehow keep forgetting – wrapping your legs to his waist instead before slipping inside you.

You mewl into his mouth, eyes snapping open to look at him nervously. His legs are slightly bent as he bounces you on his cock like you weighed nothing.

In this position, he’s hitting deep each time you slide down his cock. Unable to help it, you graze your foreheads with his to stare him deep in the eyes, the usual passion in them slowly returning with each thrust. The work is placed on his shoulders as he holds you close to him, the mind numbing sensation of your erect nipples grazing his sensitive skin enticing him to rut harder into you, all to enjoy the way you fall apart above him.

You’ve been rendered speechless, mouth fallen open to release breathy gasps. Hell, you’re unable to moan, not when his cock is sliding in and out of you so lusciously that you feel every vein protruding from the base of his length. How he manages to walk while fucking you is beyond your comprehension by now, but he seems to be having the time of his life based on his grunting, continuously fucking deep into your pussy so much that he refuses to let you go. Satoru kicks the door to your room open and places you gently on the bed this time, trapping you in his arms but with enough space to let you crawl back up on the bed. You stop as your head hits the pillows, and the mood immediately changes.

Satoru stays still inside you, his large hand cupping your face while you both catch your breath. There’s something unreadable about him. He feels young yet old at the same time, giving you the impression that perhaps he’s still just a child trapped in an old man’s body.

There’s so much fear swirling through the blueness of his eyes that you frown, marveling about what happened to him.

In the intimacy of the moment, you swipe the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek, smiling up at him in hopes he’d realize you’re always there for him. “Satoru,” you whisper, breath hitching as he starts to move. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Satoru props you sideways, your leg flat on the bed while he hooks the other one over his thigh that is spread beside your body. You have to tilt all the way to the side just to see his face, your hand now bent in an awkward position. Although he doesn’t answer vocally, his gentle thrusts are enough to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it – he never does, and he never will – so you shut your mouth, focusing on the pleasure of him hitting deep.

Your heart aches for him. You wish he could tell you everything, to share you his worries, and you can’t enjoy him fucking you too much because you’re crying, chest clenching that he’s growing distant no matter how close he is.

You don’t want to lose him.

“Hey,” he easily reads you, leaning down to flutter his eyes at you. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired, okay, angel? But you’re making me feel good, you always do, so let me do the same for you,” Satoru kisses your tears away, the saltiness of it making him fuck harder into you, all to ignore the screaming inside his head.

He wants to hold you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to keep loving you like this, he wants to be with you, he wants to touch you – but it’s not that easy.

It’ll only keep getting harder in the future, but the future isn’t now. Today is the present, and it’s even more precious because you’re there with him. Right now, you’re untouchable by anyone but him, and it’s only him that gets to fuck you like this, only him who gets to see you whimper under him, only him who gets to kiss you hard while he fucks you deep.

He wants to fuck you hard enough that you never forget the feeling of him inside you.

Maybe he’s selfish, maybe he really is demonic, because he wishes that after this you won’t be satisfied with anyone else. He wants to fuck you hard enough you’ll keep wishing it was him, that it’s him who’s hitting your sweet spots and making you see stars, that it’s only him who can make you feel this good.

Satoru interlaces his hand with yours as he feels you tighten around him, the clamping down of your walls a telltale you’re near. You’re moaning, eyes dropping to where your bodies are connected. His cock is slicked with your arousal and he’s still thrusting to passionately, his hands touching you everywhere with the same ardor and impatience one would have when they know time is limited. And Satoru knows better than everyone that no amount of money can buy enough time in this world, because if such was a case, then he’d have done so long ago.

He silences his demons with the only way he knows how to; by kissing you and burying himself deep inside you, snapping his hips angrily as if they would counterattack his fears. Your hold on him is slipping from the sweat dripping down your bodies, but he doesn’t stop, his cock further stretching you out because he’s growing impossibly bigger.

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you, the motion pulling a gasp from you. He bites down on your shoulder, one hand gripping your other leg open as he grunts into your skin, his thrusts focused more on power than speed. He hits deep each time, the sensation of him sliding out slowly only to push back in vigorously to make your pussy throb too intense for you to even form proper sentences. He’s getting nearer, his thrusts growing more fervent and impatient. Satoru thumbs at your clit to coax you into following him, and with his thumb rubbing your clit and flicking it side to side, you end up finishing before him, your moan high-pitched and broken. He eagerly swallows the sound by releasing after you, refusing to pull out even as he feels both your cum trickle afterwards.

The sensitivity is too much for you that you have to push him away, and he complies, falling at your side but not before wrapping an arm around you first. His heartbeat is pumping under you, your hands tracing circles at his chest while he holds you impossibly close, littering kisses at the crown of your head.

It’s clear that something is wrong, but he won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. You know firsthand how annoying it is when someone can’t respect your space, so you close your eyes and let sleep overtake you instead, basking in the after sex glow and relieved only by his touch.

Hopefully, you think to yourself, he can tell you another time.

“Satoru,” you murmur seconds before falling asleep.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s something wrong…you’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he lies through gritted chest, pushing your head deeper into his sweaty chest. He has a habit of doing this; of pushing you close so you don’t see his face, so you don’t see the tears streaming down his face that are soon lost in your hair. You think that maybe he’s just breathing hard after work and fucking you, but he’s torn inside, feeling too broken that not even you could help fix his heart.

But you’re still there, and that’s enough for him. So he keeps his lips planted on your forehead all the way until the first sliver of light extends its fingertips over the horizon, the orange glow bathing you in an ethereal light while his body remained in the darkness.

It serves as a painful reminder that he’ll never be worthy of your love, that he’ll never earn the blessing that is your heart, that you’ll never truly love him the way he’s always wanted to be loved. Maybe now you think you do, but it will change once the darkness reveals his true nature, and the thought of you pushing him away hurts a lot more than having never been loved in the first place. To him, it’s a thousand times worse when you get a taste of something, only to have it pulled away from you.

And the longer he stays there next to you, he can’t help but picture your smile soon turned into a look of fear, your body bruised with marks and blood instead of his love bites.

They call him the notorious mafia leader who bows and yields to no one, but it’s not true. Gojo Satoru most definitely has his weakness, one that came into a form of his lover, and he can’t handle that you’d get hurt because of him someday that he believes it’s just better to let things be this way.

He’s silent from when he leaves the bed, refusing to look at you one last time as a final resolve of whatever is left in his strength. He quickly dresses himself and picks up your discarded robe on the ground, folding it and leaving it on the counter before shutting the door, the sound of his footsteps mute compared to the frantic beating of his heart.

Geto is already there at the lobby, his face empty yet eyes filled with sympathy. He opens the door for Satoru who slides in wordlessly, his lips pulled into a thin line while he punches in zeroes upon zeroes.

The words transaction complete flashes before him, and for a split second, he gets the urge to run back inside to hold you. But Geto clears his throat from the passenger’s seat, nodding at his phone that Satoru visibly deflates. His hands are numb the whole time he deletes your photos, your videos, and erases your contact, but it only hits hard that its over once he chucked the phone out the window, watching through his sunglasses as the device is crushed under another speeding car.

Its over, its over, its over – it keeps chanting at his head, and he wants to punch himself, wants to never see another daylight again every time he imagines you waking up alone and unable to find him. He wants to be sad, and he is, but there’s that relief blossoming inside him anyway that whispers its over, you’re safe that he can’t help but think…its okay, its over.

With that, Satoru rolls up the windows and nods at the driver who’s been waiting for him the whole time. He makes eye contact with a proud Geto from the rearview mirror, concealing his heartbreak with a laugh as he crosses his leg over the other.

“It’s over,” he says more to himself, “Let’s go.”

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. That’s the reason he got this far in life in the first place, he’s got his tenacity and dedication to thank for. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins as well, and he also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

And the punishment of loving you – only to have you slip from his arms – is a punishment he’ll wholeheartedly accept.