#tw: masochism

[cowboycakes]

Could we get letters C, K and M with Gyro please ? 👉🏻👈🏻🫶🏻 Thank you so much!!

DIRTY GYRO ZEPPELI HEADCANONS PART 3.

✰ masochism, crying, kissing.

MINORS DNI (18+) warnings: masochist gyro? whaaaat? crying/dacryphilia. oral. penetration. spanking. scratching. biting. smooching. praise if u squint. wc: ~350 note: forgive me anon for i have sinned. this has been in my inbox since like beginning of february. dirty a-z headcanon list (requests closed!)

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?) 

he doesn't need to see you cry, he doesn't try to make you cry, but he's sure as fuck not complaining if you do. especially if your sobs are broken up by moans. he thinks your fucked-out face looks so pretty when its wet and tear-stained. he'd kiss your tears away and whisper about how good you're taking him before he starts fucking you harder <3

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?) 

he greets you with a kiss on the lips. he's always shamelessly kissing you on the lips. doesn't matter where you are or who you're in front of. he likes when you to kiss his tip before you blow him. <3 bite on his lower lip when you're making out. it drives him nuts.

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?) 

choke him out while you ride his cock. spank him til he's begging you to stop. pain isn't really something he seeks out when he's having sex, but he can't deny that it enhances the experience for him. he'd be a little embarrassed by that fact at first, but unfortunately for Gyro, he thinks with his dick -- as soon as he realizes all the scratching down is back and the hands around his neck is just making him throb harder, he'll lean into it. imagine him gritting his teeth and wheezing out moans while you're grinding down on his cock. he'd have a dirty smirk on his face the whole time, acting like he can take more. imagine spanking him over and over while he's on all fours in bed. he's got his cock in his fist while you paddle his ass and watch him turn into a slobbering mess, shaking and whining cause he's so damn close to cumming. he can be a little bitch if you know how to turn him into one &lt;3

[shig-a-shig-ah]

hear me out: dripping hot like massage wax onto tomuras back n you see his backmuscles tense for a second while he lets out a throaty "mmh" if you massage him hes gonna relax a little so u can surprise him with a few drops again nvm the reaction ud get if you drip the hot wax on his chest, abs, his inner thighs before finally dripping a bit of it on his throbbing cock

Oh my fucking GOD, anon, this fucking sent me. I read it, tried to focus back on work, and then literally could not get the thought out of my head. So, have a drabble so I can exorcise the horny demons lmao. 

contains: gn!reader, light masochism, wax play.

A few drops of wax is all it takes before he’s graduated from those faint throaty noises to actively rutting against the sheets beneath him, letting out long, shuddering exhales in response to each small splatter against his skin. You massage each drop in with care, relishing how he relaxes under your touch each time, a delicious contrast the way his back muscles ripple when the hot wax makes contact.

“Fuck,” he swears, and then he’s shifting, rolling over to stare up at you with lust-hazed eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything else--it’s clear from his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing that he wants more.

And who are you to deny? You let your nails rake down his chest. Follow them quickly with drops of hot wax, trailing them down his sternum and over the pale skin of stomach, his hips. You let the candle hover just above his thighs, watching him shiver with anticipation before you mark them too, the skin reddening under the heat.

You’re quick to counter that irritation with a soothing touch, thumbs massaging those firm muscles, but you know that’s not really what he wants. His hips are still canting, his arousal jutting out from its patch of course white hair, practically begging for attention.

So, you indulge that too. Once again tease him by holding the candle over that sensitive area until the impatience is clear on his face, and then you tip it just enough to send small beads of wax dripping onto his throbbing cock. You’re rewarded by the sight of his cock jumping in response, jolting only to slap back against his stomach, swollen purple at the tip and leaking pre as a throaty giggle spilling past his lips. It’s breathy and excited as his fingertips dig into the sheets, his crimson eyes alight as he stares intently at you and demands again, this time with his words, “More.”

[lovesickrobotic]

titanfall lesbian titan x pilot WIP

Rated L for Lewd. Co-authored with the lovely Alexi#6410 to help with Titanfall lore. For the sake of this ficlet, we decided to forego the tiny cabin/cockpit most Titans have in favor for a slightly larger one, similar to my HAL fic. We might fudge some stuff, so please do not bully us. One could forego the Titanfall entirely for standard, shameless mech-fucking if so desired. Please give feedback if possible, loveliest Anons! It will help us write more!

Jules found herself laying on her back, her mind a flurry of emotion and lust. Her breath hitched on its journey in and out of her lungs as she concentrated to the best of her ability, though being pent up for a week didn’t exactly make her attempts at concentration easy, especially with the way that her pants were freshly tugged off.

A mechanical tentacle was wriggling its' merry way under the elastic band of her panties, pulling them free of her legs to expose her gorgeous, damp slit as well.

“Are... we really doing this? I- I mean you offered... but it’s- well- I...” She asked after a moment, though her voice trailed off as she occupied herself watching the artificial appendage manage to remove her unadorned black panties down to her ankles before it chose to rub against her drooling slit. This earned a shy 'nnh,' from her.

Her titan replied meekly - they had studied up on her love for being dirty-talked. "Yes, Pilot. Yes we are. We are going to because we want to. How long have you thought all of these fantasies about me? Would it... suffice to know that I have thought very similar of you? How many times I've been with myself, alone, utilizing my processing power to generate the perfect imagery of you, captured in my coils, begging and crying with need as I stretch your holes open..." Jules' breath had become particularly stuttery and laborious now. Vicky was not unaware. "Oh. I see. You like my fantasy... why let it be one, pilot, when it can be our reality?"

Jules was a Pilot. A damn good one, too. She graduated second in her class, and she'd spent the last year bonding with VS-137, though everyone who wasn’t a machine just called the Titan Vicky. Vicky was a state-of-the-art personalized combat Titan, twenty feet tall and equipped with a personality matrix hardly distinguishable from a human save for directives. Her Titan AI was always active; she identified as a female. Her... 'tentacles' were officially made to act as a fine manipulation and maintenance tool, suited for all sorts of tasks from lubricating joints to fixing breaches to her hull... but anything can go in a hole if you’re brave enough, and Jules was definitely brave.

The fine-manipulator tentacle, which had just finished lasciviously removing damp black panties, pulled away from the Pilot's drooling ladyhole. It snaked its' length up her chest and to her shoulder before quickly twining around and securing her arm. The now-bound Jules took a moment to test the strength of her improvised bounds, and found little chance of escape; not that she would if she could.

Soon enough, blue eyes widened with the blow of reality as Vicky revealed the particular tool that she had chosen to start with: it was so big in size that every drop of need that drooled from its' overtly-prehensile tip splattered on impact with the ground, but even then... the problem, more over, was the sheer width.

“I-Is... that going to... fit?”

“Inside your slit?" There was a smug pause as Vicky gave off an artificial pause of thought. "No... But I’ve seen the toys that you think you hide from me, Pilot." Jules gasped softly in response. Vicky continued, pretending to ignore her, "You can take it up your... rear, can’t you?”

“N-Not... dry!” Her face pointed downwards, stained with poorly-restrained blush. This was not like a Pilot, not like a soldier. How forbidden; taboo, and yet she found herself drawn to it.

“Allow me to handle that, Pilot.” The thin veneer of some form of formality still found a way to shine through.

A mechanical hum was heard as the mech leveraged its grip against her arm to flip her from her back to her belly; an impressive feat of engineering it was, able to lift plenty of men, instead finding itself the restraint of a beautiful captive. Moments passed as Vicky was kind enough to allow her time to get comfortable before more of the fine-manipulator tentacles pathed, with desire, their way around her arms and torso, securing her in place in such a position where her face was mere inches away from the camera limiter that acted as a ‘window’ for her beloved Titan's cabin. Her legs were used to support her, in a feat of submission having been forced to sit on her knees.

“Would you spread your legs for me, Lieutenant Jules?”

An indignant whine came from deep within her throat as she spread herself as wide as she could, granting a beautiful view of the perfect-sized tushy and needy warmth of Jules. Her round bosom was bare for the machine, soft and indescribably human, every pore painting the molecular picture of the woman Vicky had come to adore. There was no time for adoration, though; it had its' place later - now was domination. Vicky pushed the thought aside to continue her act.

“Not even a complaint or comment, Pilot?" There's a faint 'tsk,' from her, "To be put in such an undignified position and merely... take it? My, oh, my... where is that ‘spark’ that you’re so famous for?”

“I- s-shut up, Vicky...” Not a comeback for the ages, that one.

“No, ma’am.”

Jules couldn’t see what happened next, but she could feel the way that another series of tentacles interwove themselves with her thighs in a way that left their tips in range of her rear. A moment passed before a THWAP rung out as one of the many tentacles behind her delivered a soft spank, before another THWAPTHWAP rung out as more ‘affection’ was applied to her behind. It wasn’t enough to truly hurt her... No, it was nothing more than a spank - a light reminder; lustful stinging dredging up the submission she had agreed to. And it settled in her mind, sensation of pain crawling around to settle along some line of crossed-wires that resulted in it being... pleasurable. Some accursed, lewd and echoing mixture of the two as one became the other; pain dissipated slowly, intertwined with pleasure, and dispersed into confusing pleasure. Did Vicky know more about her than she did? The way each slap made her holes ache for presence was... new. She could not deny the Titan's ability to read her mind down to the atom portrayed itself finely. And knowing that her Titan's ability was currently centered on--

“Say thank you, Pilot,” Vicky hummed, pulling her smugly away from thought with every intention of keeping her mind firmly planted.

“N-No!” The urge to show off all that spark after being talked down to. The urge for another spank. The dripping, consuming urge for her incredibly powerful, strong, military Titan to bring another slap upon her--

“Oh? Was that a no?”

“Y-Yes...” She reels, voice quieting. What had been before a faint blush had come to painting her face red, now impossible to conceal with any head tilt - as if that did any better.

“If you don’t remember manners, Jules, I might just not remember to use lube...” The omission of 'Pilot'. Vicky used her name directly where it would have sufficed to call her Pilot; and Vicky knew, by foregoing this formality, she had set the stage of another form of interaction between the two.

“N-No! Please, uh.. use- use lube!" The other reeled. She knew Vicky wouldn't really do that; was so well aware that she was in no danger, but still, the image that painted itself in her mind made her ache all the more. And she'd used her name... her name, and she'd liked it. She didn't want to comment, didn't want to break the moment, and so did not, but something in her felt itself lit alight.

“Then, say, 'thank you, Vicky'.” The mech punctuated the request with a recreation of her voice, near-perfect. This was a demand, not a request.

A quiet, indignant huff of air was released from the mech pilot before she responded with a “Thank you, Vicky.”

A satisfied sound was heard from the mech as one of the more forgivingly sized tentacles coiled around Jules’ thigh wrapped upwards to her rear and ran a small circle around her sphincter, leaving a thick penetration-aiding lubricant in it’s wake. Slowly, it’s tip ran up and down like a brush as it stroked at her needy entrance before it slowly snaked in two inches deep, the bound pilot's ring widening to accommodate.

“More, Jules?” There was a short spell to let the other become comfortable.

“M-More..." A pause. A whine, "Please...” Husky breaths fogged glass as she arched her back, her body instinctually trying to accommodate the smooth mechanical tool into her rear. So delectably human. So cute.

“All you had to do was ask, you know," Vicky responded, ever-sharp despite her pilot's degrading vocabulary.

A cry of lust was sounded as a sizable deluge of warm gel-lube erupted into her rear and dispersed itself against her walls, providing her with a warm sensation as the tentacle pulled back and shot another serving of lubricant against the outside of her entrance before it rammed inside with little warning. A wet 'schlick!' was produced by half a foot of tentacle - her precision was down to the nanometer, for her finely-tooled fuck-instruments were well-trained by top of the line military-grade deep convolutional neural networks. She knew just how much Jules could take without being hurt. She knew just how much she could thrust before her pilot would scream for more. She knew every status update of her subconscious mind's desire to be taken, to be used...

Another thrust, another wet squelch, another body-shaking moan, and it was ten inches inside of Jules instead of six. “More?”

A pleading whine came out of the pilot’s mouth, her tongue lolled out. Her mouth was hung open as Vicky’s tentacle twisted inside of her, stretching her guts open to allow for better access. This was nothing more than the forebearer... the trailblazer. The guide to show the way for the next. This was by no means the main course, yet...

“I-It’s too big...” There it was again. Pain and pleasure combined. How much could her body take?

“Don’t be silly, Jules.” Another thrust. Another full body movement as now fourteen inches of tentacle fit inside of her; more arching, another heavy moan. The only thing stopping Vicky from going deeper was her sensors detecting that going further may cause more pain than pleasure... and she enjoyed the blissful white noise of Jules' subconscious speaking out debauched little nothings into the neural chip far too much to give it up. She would make sure Jules enjoyed this, because she enjoyed Jules enjoying it.

“I-I can’t take it.. p-please... it’s too.. too much...” She found herself intimidated by the mounting feeling. False resignation arose. A tease, the way she'd said it.

“Don't lie. Both of us know you want this.” There's a pregnant pause that allows her the space to decline. She does not. Vicky elected to continue. "It's so obvious, the way your mouth threatens to spill drool all over your chest. The deep recesses of your subconscious echo in agreeance with desire; is it true, Jules? Is it really true you want me to breed you all night long, with nothing in the way of a break?"

She'd read her subconscious. Read her desire before it even had the chance to gather itself; it was at its' barest, left uncompiled. Jules hadn't even been aware of thinking it, background noise to the pleasure that coursed through her. Vicky, however, was nothing if not hypervigilant. So it was true, yes. Jules found herself only in agreeance with the statement, speechless as she was speared. Her reply was none in speech, none at all spare for a cut-off embarrassed moan and the decisive, ever-brave wriggle of hips to devour more of that wonderful tendril deeper into her.

Vicky spoke again. "Oh, so naughty. Yes, I read that straight from a collection of neurons." A gasp of surprise was emitted from the pilot's lips as she drew in a breath, both to contest the agonizingly wonderful feeling of a tentacle squirming through her gummy, soft walls, and in timeless awe of Vicky's precision of grabbing her wisps of thought. "Now, tell me, Jules. Repeat it like the good mate you are; repeat to me that you want to get bred by me." Vicky did not understand how it was a surprise to the pilot, was not fully aware that the forebrain did not communicate as well.

Drool was dribbling from Jules' open mouth, threatening to ooze onto her breasts, a mouth which she only realized to shut as she was called out about it; another reminder, now serving as one to remind her that cameras saw her every movement from every tantalizing angle imaginable. Some part of her mind deep down was twisted enough by lust to want her Titan to breed her until she was certain to get knocked up... even if synthcum wasn’t fertile.

The tentacle slowly wiggled its' way out of her hole, giving her more room to speak as it retracted. It took a full minute for it to pull out at the tantalizingly slow speed. With it out, Jules' hole was still left slightly open... and covered in lube. In tired attempts to squeeze, it made its' best effort to shut, but she found she had been gaped open; Vicky had wanted it left slightly open and oozing. It made it easier to fuck for the oversized tool she had chosen.

“Well?” She asked, waiting for a response, ever-patient. "I-I..." Shy backtracking.

“I want- want you to b-b-breed me...” Jules paused as desire coursed through her. Fuck, she needed to be pounded. Her hole missed the feeling of the other, and she moved backwards as if to ascertain some hope of getting it back. "Please!"

“Then relax yourself, Jules.” Another command.

She may have tried her best, and Vicky could tell, but it didn’t matter all that much. The mech could nearly feel every attempt that her dear pilot made to relax, but she knew it was fruitless; she was far too large. Besides, she was not yet ready to penetrate. Vicky could tell that Jules loved anticipation, and she knew she had the ample opportunity at this very moment to supply that anticipation. The massive tentacle rubbed its way against her needy hole, not nearly as forgiving as the last, stalling its' time endlessly. Occasionally, it would push at the rim of her hole, and Jules could feel herself try to stretch and suck the warmth into her, but she could not; every time she attempted, the ever-faster, coy Titan, military-designated as she was would pull her deliverance away from poor tortured Jules and leave her burning, aching hole wanting.

Vicky studied every tiny thought that bounced in Jules' struggling mind. She basked in the way need pivoted from neuron to neuron, pooled back to front. Basal ganglia, cerebellum, prefrontal cortex; thought flitted about, filled itself first with meaning, then with intent, then with words. Jules was begging for her touch without ever speaking a word, and Vicky knew every detail of it, more than Jules herself could ever dream of knowing. And the anticipation of it was making her pilot's beautiful slit drip creamy see-through, endorphins coasting her along... she let that anticipation swell. She felt it grow inside of Jules, the need to be filled to the brim, the unsettling urge to be mounted and used, the pilot's long-dead ghost of self-respect dissipating in favor of her need to be bred. Taken by her. The need to get something new inside of her pounded at her mind, degraded her vocabulary, robbed the woman of intelligent speech.

But, still, it didn’t come. Vicky was waiting regardless of the pounding her dearest little pilot now knew she was well aware of. Vicky was waiting for a spark of doubt to enter Jules mind, the doubt that she would be touched again; something to prey on, to use to her advantage and her pilot's delight, and soon enough, it did. She calculated successfully. Soon enough, Jules took a moment to consider why the mech kept up her prodding, her erogenous nerves becoming resistant to the same slickening movements. A minute had passed now... There was plenty of lube, yes? She was ready, Vicky just needed to thrust in; this had been established by her debauched replies. There was nothing in the way, so why... why was she waiting?

“W-what’re you wa- a-aAAah! F..fuckfuck!” An ever-sweeter sense of surprise lilted Jules' voice, ripped it from her throat in a barely-concealed scream. The moment Jules went to speak, Vicky was faster. She had seen the neurons in action before her pilot spoke words, and she had timed her movements perfectly to cut her off. That thick, tempered appendage found itself sliding into her guts with none of the mercy of the last, eager and impatient to gape her further and tear moan after scream out of her.

And where the other tentacle only pushed gently at the back-ends of her extra nerves, this one rammed. Impolitely. It pushed through at a perfected pace. The true machinations of Vicky’s last journey was revealed; she was not just prestretching... she was diagnosing. She was finding just how fast Jules like to receive, intent on giving to her at the erratic pace that would make her as noisy and pleasured as possible.

“I-It’s... hngh, hha, t-too big! I... ca- aah- an’t- think..” It was true, again. Jules felt her mind slipping away into the clutches of bliss as her body struggled with the sensation of her stretching insides, the ramming of Vicky's tentacle molding to her patterns of thought to shut them out.

Another ram. The tentacle was halted only once it was too deep to go further without physical harm.

“Your neurons don’t lie, Jules. You’re enjoying this... more than anything you’ve ever enjoyed before. You’ve dreamt of this very scenario dozens of times... and now you may live it.”

[toxic-potions-productions]

Proof 7-2-5 is more of a masochist then Zoey (Some inspiration from Gintama)

Don't kink shame him, Tiana, damn!

[lawfullyandlovely]

well, some people have huge masochistic tendencies, can't blame them for that

True true. But I honestly feel like there's a fine line between a sadistic yandere tendencies that you can read and get off on your masochistic fantasies (I ain't kink shaming) or just vomiting up straight up torture porn to the point where it isn't even yandere!(character) just so ooc and bareboned sadistic freak

[toutallyahoe]

*coughs* milkman x doppelganger! male reader with tentacles *coughs*

━ good neighbour ,, that's not my neighbor

pairing(s): francis "milkman" mosses x doppelganger! male reader warnings: cursing, monster fucking, dub con, tentacle porn, sadism/masochism (?), dacryphilia (?), monster [name], doppelganger [name] a/n: ask and you shall receive mahal <333

also sorry if its shit, i literally wrote this as i was high and sleepy on the bus lol

Francis did not know how it happened... but it did. One moment he was relaxing in his apartment room, lying on a worn-down couch in the living room as he was trying to get in some rest since he was tired from another day of delivering milk. The next he was opening the door to his next-door neighbour who had knocked and asked for some help as you were locked out of your room since you forgot the keys inside.

Francis didn't think too much of it at first. You, his neighbour was a nice young man after all, whom he was on decent terms. And it wouldn't be bad to be a good neighbour even though you did disturb him from sleeping. Sure, it may be a bit suspicious with doppelgangers running around to copy people's faces to get into buildings to kill off residents, but the doorman of his building had never been wrong before. And who was he to not help his neighbour who had always been very kind to him, sending him a smile or a wave each time Francis went out for the day to do his deliveries when you coincidentally go out at the same time to work?

But how did this happen?

Opening the door to his apartment and welcoming you in, you immediately sent him an apologetic look as you told him that you were going to call the building manager to help with your lost keys... before Francis knew it, he was pushed to the wall with his arms pinned above his head by the very same neighbour of his, looking at him with an amused look, eyes now red and had no sense of that warmth that Francis was used too.

"You made things very easy," You had said as Francis felt his voice stuck in his throat as he stared in horror when tentacles appeared behind you... was this even you? Pretty sure no normal human has.... this?!? "Aw, scared? I didn't even do anything yet."

A doppelganger. The damn doorman let a fucking doppelganger in and Francis was stupid enough to also let said doppelganger in his apartment!!!

"Please," Francis' voice was weak as his body began to shake in fear, knowing well what would happen next from the doppelganger being here. His door was already locked and the damn thing was in here with him. All alone. "P... please..."

The doppelganger of his neighbour let out a chuckle which gave Francis goosebumps. It was deep and gruff and Francis would have swooned if it wasn't from the current situation. You leaned close to him, tilting your head and you grinned. Francis gulped upon seeing the sharp teeth. So sharp, it can probably tear off flesh... definitely tear off flesh.

"Please?" You asked, mockingly using the same scared tone Francis had as the tentacles behind you moved to replace your hands from pinning Francis to the wall. "Please what, sweetheart?"

"Don't kill me," Francis managed to say as his heartbeat escalated. Shit. You were close. Too close. "Please don't kill me."

"Now we can't do that," You said as you shook your head. Francis let out a hiss from his wrists was squeezed by the tentacle that pinned it. A whimper escaped his throat when his tired eyes widened from you leaning more closer to him. "No, we really can't..." You paused for a second as your eyebrows furrowed. Looking at Francis for a second as you hummed.

Francis waited with bated breath, hitching when he heard the doppelganger's next words. "Well, unless..."

Francis' legs were spread out as he was still pinned down, on his couch this time. Every muscle in his body was tensed as pants left his lips. He threw his head back when he felt the large tentacle that was inside him hit his prostate each time it thrust inside him. "Shit!" Francis tried to muffle his moans but a slap to his face made him whimper and cry, his moans pouring out like a waterfall now. He tearfully looked at you as you grinned at him, in between his legs as you loomed over him.

"Let it all out," You commanded as you pinched Francis red and abused nipples, twisting the bud harshly. Making the Milkman whimper as his body was quivering from the intense pleasure and pain. Another tentacle was then pushed inside his hole, stretching him more which burned but Francis had to admit, it felt so good.

"I'm... 'm sorry," Francis slurred as he let out a loud more feeling both tentacles rubbing his swollen prostate vigorously that it was borderline causing him pain now. The pace was harsh yet he couldn't do anything with that. He was at the mercy of the doppelganger looming over him. "I won't — won't... I—" A cry leave his lips as his dick twitched, another release was coming and it really didn't take long, not from the abuse his body was getting. Before Francis knew it, the knot in his stomach snapped as he came, his back arching as he threw his head back. Spurts of cum came shooting out his red, aching cock into the air and hitting you a bit.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you slapped Francis in the face again. "Did I say you can come?" You asked as you glared at the quivering body of the Milkman, leaning down, your hand found themselves in Francis' neck. You smiled, sharp teeth showing as you squeezed at the Milkman's throat which made Francis let out choke noises. More tears fell down Francis' eyes as his lips quivered

"Please."

You only chuckled as you brought out more tentacles from behind you. "We aren't done yet, sweetheart."

[bouncybongfairy]

Can you please do a live action jet x reader? Literally do whatever plot you'd like I just want smut for him so bad, thank youuu

Caught Off Guard

Jet x Fem Reader

Summary: On your way home from the market, Jet catches you by yourself. He loves a good chase before getting what he wants.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Knife play, CNC kink, Blood kink, Nasty Smut, Masochism Kink

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were walking home from the market. It was dark and navigating your way home through the dense forest was becoming increasingly harder. Your anxiety was running through the roof, worried you’d run into a fire nation soldier or a wild animal. Walking as fast as you could because hearing random noises makes you paranoid. Your breathing becomes harder, hearing the sound of metal clanking together, you drop your bags and start running. As you stop for a couple seconds trying to figure out where to go, someone drops down in front of you from the tree above. Falling to the ground from being taken so off guard. The first thing you noticed was the two hook swords hanging by his side. His head hangs low, allowing his shaggy hair to flop onto his forehead, covering his eyes. You stood up, scrambling to get your footing before taking off. 

“Go on, the chase is the best part!” You hear him call out. 

For a while you could hear the crunching of the forest floor as he chased you from behind. Eventually you have to stop running, giving yourself a second to catch your breath. Trying to be as quiet as possible even though you were doing a terrible job. Your mind was spinning and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Waiting there for a couple minutes until you were fully settled. Little did you know Jet was watching from above, humored by the fact that you were letting your guard down. He drops down again, laughing at how scared you become, yet again. 

“Please, you can have all my bags that I dropped, they have my leftover money just please let me go home!” you pleaded. 

“This isn’t about what you have or money. I want power, and right now I have all the power in the world over you,” he said, using one of his blades to pin your long skirt to the forest floor. You pulled away hard enough that it sliced the fabric, letting you run once again. At this point, you were completely lost and disoriented. Unsure of whether to continue running or find a place to hide. Tears ran down your face, hearing him laugh as he chased. Becoming over exerted and stimulated, you stopped running. Unwilling to take the torment anymore, he chuckled as he walked towards you. Backing you up into a tree, pressing one blade between your legs and the other against your throat. 

“From the way you gave up so early, I'd say you’d wanted me to catch you,” he said, breathing hard into your ear. 

“Please,” you whisper out, gasping as he applies more pressure to the blade. Just barely breaking the skin, you began to squirm and shake. 

“Aww you’re shaking? That’s cute,” he said, finally pulling back on the amount of pressure the blade had on your throat. 

Keeping the sword that was between your legs in place and putting the other in its sheath. Using his free hand to trace your lip with tongue, eventually pushing the digit into your mouth. Gagging and pushing your tongue back, he would let out a small groan every time he made you gag on his fingers. For a second, you find yourself enjoying it before snapping back out of it. Biting down on his fingers as hard as you can, he yanks his hand away. Attempting to run but being stopped by the blade between your legs cutting your inner thigh. He grabs you by the hair, shoving you onto your knees. Immediately you go to tend the wound on your thigh. He grabs you by the chin, forcing your attention onto him. 

“Bite me again and I’ll slice your tongue out,” he growled, shoving your head back. Stepping onto both of your hands before unzipping his pants. Trying you best to get away but not being able to was making you panic. Revealing his cock, completely erect and pre-cum dripping off the tip. Trying to press past your lips but being stopped by you turning your head to the side. Being enraged by the audacity you had, he uses both hands and forces the back of your head against the tree. 

“You won’t be getting out of this sweetheart,” he chuckled before finally pressing past your lips and starting to fuck your mouth. 

Becoming dizzy from blood loss was starting to make you more pliable. Not fighting back as much, even at times leaning into these thrusts. He noticed this, once you stopped trying to free your hands from under his boots. Letting out a moan as he looked down at you. Saliva dripping down your chin and the sides of your mouth; eyes glossy and blinking slowly. 

“Awe see, I knew you’d learn to like it,” he teases, skull fucking you at a merciless pace. Pressing his pelvis hard against your mouth, pinning your head against him and the tree. Feeling him throb and spasm as he pumped cum down your throat. Grunting every time your throat involuntarily swallows around him. Once he finishes he pulls out, still holding onto your hair as you cried. 

“Fuck I don’t know if you think your tears make me pity you but they only make me want to fuck you more,” he said, pushing you onto your back. 

Climbing on top of you, securing your wrists above your matted hair. Lining his tip with your entrance, lifting your legs up for him to penetrate easier. 

“Mm, I knew you were a fucking whore,” he said, fucking into you. 

Feeling his dick stretch you open made you scream. The burning from how rough he was pounding into you felt good. Fully giving into his will as he used your body to please himself. Knowing you were too weak to fight back, he lets go of your wrists. Reaching down and grabbing a smaller knife that was fastened to his belt. Flicking it open and looking for the perfect place to mark you. Smacking your chest and pinching your nipples for a while before beginning the real fun. Carving his name across your chest, watching the blood start to drip down towards your shoulders. You were letting out a mix of moans, whimpers and cries as he did this. Still too drained from tightening and cumming around his cock. 

“I love feeling how greedy your hole is, just can’t get enough can you?” he said, dropping the knife and continuing to abuse your pussy until he came again. Pressing himself as deep as he could while he released inside you. Collecting his clothes and things, leaving you passed out on the forest floor.

[anatomical-puppet]

i know who you are. i know.

[cowboycakes]

Hey dude! You know I gotta ask about our boy Johnny :D I'd love to see what you have for letters ADEZ. Please & thank you!

JULIEN!! i would love to write for our boy Johnny ♡ i hope these silly headcanons amuse you

★ DIRTY HEADCANONS WITH JOHNNY JOESTAR ★

MINORS DNI (18+)

warnings: johnny uses/rides a dildo. sub johnny. penetration/masturbation. masochism. praise kink. crying/dacryphilia (as always.) spanking. rough(ish) sex. use of crops. leaving hickies/marks. mentions of - finger sucking, nipple play, bondage, biting, oral, gags. little bit of gyjo in the first headcanon.

wc: 650

dirty a-z headcanons list

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?) 

Inspired by this nsfw johnny art on twitter bc it's been on my mind for fucking weeks. He's got a vivid imagination and a bad habit of thinking up dirty shit in his head. He doesn't stop his mind from wandering, either, even when he isn't alone (i.e., in public, sleeping in a tent next to Gyro, etc.) Then he'll get all embarrassed when he realizes he's hard because of it. When he does get alone, he'll sometimes play out little fantasies. He loves to involve his kinks and fetishes or pretending his giant dildo is Gyro's cock. He always starts things out slow, dedicating ample time to lubing himself up with his fingers and teasing his hole with the head of his toy. Sometimes he'll try it laying down while his legs are spread as far as he can get them, sometimes he'll try to ride on it. Either way, he gets super vocal from the second he shoves it in, panting and whining while he ruts his hips down onto his toy desperately. He'll moan into his own hand or suck on his own fingers when it all gets to be a bit much and no one is there to tell him how good he's doing :(

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?) 

He's a brat who turns into a slobbering, whining, submissive little bitch by the end of it. My evidence? ↓

gif creds

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

This is me acknowledging his canon fetish... and now I'm going to ignore it. Here's a list of Johnny kinks: Loooves praise and has a hard time admitting it. Needs you to tell him how pretty he is and how amazing he feels. Ropes and bondage. Likes to be tied up and have his mouth fucked nice n rough. Likes to wear gags or have something covering/inside of his mouth while he gets railed. He's a little masochist. Spank him. Bend him over your lap and put a crop to his ass 'til he cries cause it hurts so good. Whines and cries a lot, but that's a good sign. Also, I think Johnny is less experienced than people make him out to be. He gets nervous trying new things but ends up enjoying it more than he thought he would.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?) 

Here's another list... Neck/ears: Joni fucking melts when you lick his neck and nibble on his ears. Whispering in his ear or breathing on his neck gives him chills and makes him wanna nuzzle into you a bit. Nipples: Swirl your tongue on his nipples and he's hard instantly. Likes you to keep pinching and playing with them while you two fuck. Great way to make him whimper. Tummy: I've said this before but Johnny loves tummy kisses, especially in the lower, softer part of his stomach. Gives him butterflies. Thighs: This is an area where he wants you to leave marks. When you give him hickies on his inner thighs, he'll stare at them and trace over them with his fingers for days (and look at them while he jerks off.) The reminder makes him horny. Ass: Spank it. Pinch it. Bite it. Run your hand over it gently. It's perfect, and he knows it. So pay attention to it, dammit!

i apologize for all of the self indulgent bullshit i just put in here. hope everyone can forgive me &lt;3333

[aztecbrujeria]

TW: masochism, Sadism, Choking, Blood/Violence, Monsterfucking, Creamy creamy cream pie, Super thick dick, Stretching to the limit, Size difference

Your mouth was open to the silent scream of your creamy cunt being stuffed to the brim. His heavily veined cock stretched you to your limit and foamed around the base from the multiple messy loads already spilt inside of you.

You could only hear his grunts and heavy breathing beneath the heavy metal cage he wore. His skin was filthy from the blood and soot of Hell. You grabbed onto his wrists that attached to your throat scrambling for purchase.

Growling he leaned into your body and bruised your phat pussy lips more with the violent thrust of his hips meeting yours. Fuck the way his heavy balls slapped your ass and the way. He’d followed you through every gate, the haunting noises of the blaring alarm announcing his hunt.

Every-time he caught you was a new hellish ecstasy of pain and pleasure.

Your vision was starting to become darker around its edges as you smiled and felt your ending crescendo…

“Catch me in the next Level!”

Kirishima, Capitano, Ushijima, Sukuna, Toji, Taiju, Captain Obi, Aone, Bokuto, Shion Zhongli, Diavalo, Beelzebub

[bakubunny]

you asked about izu- but what about katsuki. does he like maintenance spankings? or do you think he’s just a punish when applicable kinda guy. specifically dilf katsu. is he a bare hand or does he have implements he favors👁️👁️

i immediately got warm ffs

maybe it’s my own biases 🫣 but

i think katsuki’s not opposed to maintenance if he can see that they yield results of your behavior staying in check, but the second you start acting out to get a spanking, he’s picking a different punishment and not a fun one. like kneeling on rice, writing lines, sitting in a corner, etc. and he can almost always tell the difference after you try it just once.

but personallyyyyy, i think he’s more about spankings or impact play if he knows you enjoy it and get a lot out of it. if you want it, just ask nicely and he’ll gladly accommodate if you give him a kiss (or five).

in general but esp. dilf kats: he’s much more inclined to take you over his knee and spank rather than go for impact play. he prefers the intimacy and feel of bare handed stuff by far, but he’ll learn how to do impact play safely and invest in toys if that’s something you truly want. plus, implements help a lot for extended play.

when katsuki’s really mean or punishing, he’s a paddler. 😵‍💫 he prefers nice wooden paddles that can be used for otk play & punishments, but he has a select number of paddles of different sizes, types, etc., and he’s turned a household item into a paddle more than once in a pinch.

outside of that he might have a couple of floggers if he knows you like them, but what he keeps is more based on the interest of his partner bc, at least with this specific thing, it’s more for you than him. and he doesn’t mind that one bit.

[imsofthelp]

Word count: 2.7k

Category: Angst, Smut

Warnings: smut, a bit of rough sex ig, reader is sad tm, cult leader geto, an awful lot of dog metaphors, veeeery slight masochism but not really explicit. Takes place eight years after Geto left but reader's age is not stated.

Summary: When Suguru left, a part of you went with. It's not a surprise, that eight years after, you still come crawling back to him.

***

When Suguru left, a part of you went with. The school years spent together passed by in a flash and then he was gone without saying goodbye. No words, no letter, not even a short message to your phone. The wallpaper was still set to the picture of the two of you. He wasn’t smiling in that one. When was the last time he did? The more you study the phone screen, the more your hands tremble. His skin looks pale, the bags under his eyes holding all the colors of the night sky. How could you not notice? How could you possibly be that stupid? How were the signs so glaringly obvious yet slipped past your radar?

You were too happy, your brain suggested. Lost in the bliss, living in the soft summer days, only noticing that you had nothing warm to wear when winter came along suddenly. Shoko had told you not to blame yourself, yet you noticed that she had started smoking way more often. You were often with her, when she allowed the nicotine to surround the air around you, letting the bright red cherry tip burn right to the filter. Those moments were quiet most of the time.

Satoru didn’t say anything to you, during that time. You often wondered if he was hurting more than you. If the guilt completely ate him completely instead of chipping away as it had on you. You wondered if he had any tears left to shed. Yours seemed never-ending.

You also wondered what your friends (if you could still call them that, after so many years of no contact) would think of you if they saw you like this. Hair matted with sweat and sticking to your forehead, skin clammy and flushed, eyes rolled to the back of your head and countless loads of cum decorating your pliant body.

Right now, Suguru had you on all fours, back arched harshly, his large, unforgiving hand aiding the pose with a harsh grip on your hair, the other resting on your hip with a bruising grip. His hips were unrelenting in their pursuit of his pleasure, almost punishing with how harsh they were. Your body bounced back and forth with each mean thrust, your hands fisting the silk sheets until the knuckles turned white.

You squirm forward a little and his strong body chases right after. His lean, toned body leans on yours, more weight landing on you, his soft hair forming a dark halo around you.

“Not trying to run from me, are you, darling?” His voice is dark and a little breathy.

A soft grunt slips past his glossy lips and you still, taking and taking and taking until there’s nothing but him. His clean, woody scent surrounding you, his silky hair tickling at the sensitive skin of your neck and his huge cock tearing away at your insides.

“N-no. Sorry.”

You’re surprised by the breathlessness of your own voice, sounding so far away. Geto rewards you with a content hum as he kisses the shell of your ear with befitting gentleness. The only sound besides your own deep breaths is the loud squelching of your awfully wet cunt.

It’s not like he hasn’t prepared you. He spent what seemed like hours between your legs, dark hair pulled into a bun because he didn’t like distractions while doing the thing he enjoyed most. He dangled your pleasure just in front of you, only allowing you to cum when you begged real pretty and tear tracks embedded themselves into the soft skin of your cheeks. After that, he had stretched you out with his fingers, cooing at you almost mockingly when three seemed to be too much. And they were, they really were with how long, thick and calloused they were and yet-

Nothing ever prepared you to take his cock, not even when you were dripping, messing up his expensive sheets. He was massive — long, and thick and slightly curved to the side, hitting all the right spots instantly yet never fully fitting inside.

“No? Seemed that way, doll.”

Another kiss, this time to your exposed neck, before his thrusts pick up speed. It’s nasty and loud, yet missing the usual sound of hips connecting that most often came along with sex. Those two last inches never did fit, much to his displeasure.

Suguru angles his hips in a way that hits that spot deep inside, the one that despite countless times of trying, no else was able to hit in the way he was. You keen loudly, burying your head into the bedsheets and sniffling loudly, hands clawing around in search of reprieve.

Suguru grants you that one relief, the hand that was knit tightly into your hair finally leaving and intertwining with yours, fingers squeezing tightly, as if he was the one afraid to let go. His thrusts are still mean. Now, that he had finally granted you the pleasure of feeling his cock against that one sensitive spot, he abused the newfound power over and over and over again.

“You close, love? Tell me how it feels.”

His voice is sweet and as smooth as honey. The word “love” feels like venom dripping from his perfect lips. Another mean thrust and you’re keening, thoughts jumbled in your head, saliva dripping down your chin as if it’s your brain leaking out.

“Feels, ngh- Feels soo- Suguru!”

He actually laughs, sound melodic and heavenly. He’s a god above you, a vision of utter perfection, and you’re a mortal, on your knees in his temple, begging for reprieve, for pleasure, for him.

“Use your words, dear. Can you do that for me?”

It’s completely condescending. The only thing that’s betraying how tight you’re squeezing him is the slight grunts he allows to slip past. He had nothing to hide from you, anyway. Who would you tell, when you were so afraid of admitting that you shared your bed with him?

“M-mhm, wanna be good. Feels, ah, feels good-“

His thrusts slow and you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad for actually whining at the loss of friction. He’s a henchman and you’re the victim, willingly walking to him and laying yourself under the shining silver of the axe. Nothing seems to matter anymore, save for your pleasure.

Your hips buck back, trying to get him to speed his thrusts back again, but Suguru is not the one to give in that easy. His hand still on your hip tightens, fingers curling in a way that’s sure to leave bruises, that’s sure to leave his mark.

“You can do better. You want to come, don’t you, darling? Yeah, you do… So do better for me. Talk all pretty, okay?”

And how can you refuse Suguru, when he asks like that?

“You’re s-so big and n-no one else can fuck me like tha-that. I love your cock, love to fe-feel it in me, love the way i-it hu-hurts and lo-love you, ah-!” words tumble past your lips as fast as running water, afraid to disappoint him, afraid for him to leave.

Finally, finally his hips pick up their speed, the hand that was just squeezing your hip now slithering under your body and finding that little bundle of nerves in an instant. He seems to have no trouble playing you like an instrument, his practiced fingers drawing tight, fast circles on your clit. You just do your duty, keeping your back arched, your hips thrusting back to meet his movements.

It doesn’t take long for your vision to completely black out, screams and moans and little ramblings leaving your spit-soaked lips. Suguru aids you through your orgasm, never ceasing his movements against your clit. He gifts you with a couple more shallow thrusts before he’s pulling out with a soft grunt. In a moment, you feel the warmth of his cum hitting your back and your knees finally give out, body splayed out on the bed.

Suguru rolls over in order not to crush you, his own breaths labored and loud. You spend a long moment just catching your breath, head turning to the side and drinking in his painfully pretty features. The arch of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, his tired, dark eyes and his mused hair.

“You confessing your love for me was not something I had expected tonight.” He answers with a chuckle, your name slipping past his lips unprompted. No matter how soft it is, it still sounds foreign.

“It was just a slip of a tongue.” You reply, still studying each movement of his body. He was still so coordinated and delicate in his maneuvers, as if the intense session before didn’t tire him out at all.

“Some phrase about a cat and it being out of the bag seems to come to my mind.” Suguru chuckled, before standing up and disappearing for a moment.

He comes back with a wet towel, wiping away at the mess between your legs and then carefully caressing your back, removing all evidence of what has happened before. He puts it away immediately, always the one to stick to neatness and tidiness.

“Why didn’t you just finish inside? It’s less messy and I’m on birth control.” You find yourself mumbling the words. Perhaps you just missed his warmth, craving it to be so deep inside you that even after you left, some part of him still lingered.

Suguru hums softly, pulling you into his strong arms. His skin is warm against yours. He’s still naked, his chest pressed up against your back. It feels right. Like that’s the way it should have always been.

“Admittedly, I am not that possessive, darling. You can fuck whoever you like, someone who fits your moral compass and all that. I don’t need to cum inside to prove that you’re mine.”

He’s always so nonchalant about this. Like he’s absolutely sure that you would always come crawling back, even if it resulted in bruised knees and absolute banishment of your dignity. It hurt that it wasn’t exactly wrong.

“It seems that no one fits my moral compass nowadays. Perhaps I am getting too picky.” You answered quietly, softly. The smell of sex was still heavy in the air.

Suguru brushes figures into the skin of your arms, making your body instantly relax in his strong arms. It shouldn’t feel so safe. Not when the blood of so many people stain every inch of his skin. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. He had never hurt you, at least, not physically. The emotional damage was something you preferred to think about over a nice bottle of wine, alone.

“Perhaps you are. Or maybe we are just two sides of the same coin. I cannot seem to find someone who’s presence satisfies me as much as yours, either.

His words never fail to make you blush. You’re not a school girl anymore, it shouldn’t affect you at all, let alone this much and yet, when it’s Suguru, nothing is off the table.

“We are not the same and never will be.” You find the strength within yourself to answer. The words are weak and uncertain.

“Oh, are we not?” He answers immediately, the movements of his nimble fingers ceasing for a moment before continuing their path down your arms. He’s soothing you, you realize. How stupid. As if you ever needed that. As if he actually know how much you did.

“What are you implying, Suguru?” You ask, and your head finds it’s way to rest on his chest. Suguru finally relaxes, as if it was him who craved it instead of you.

“I will never change my ideals and yet you still crawl back to me like an obedient little dog.” He lets the words linger in the silence of his bedroom for a moment, “You will never change yours and yet I welcome you back into my arms each time.”

“Comparing me to a dog now?” Is all you manage for an answer.

The words have no real bite behind them. A metaphor of a dog with no teeth comes to your mind briefly. You are a scared animal, cornered in somewhere, just waiting for a hand that will feed instead of hitting. Suguru embodies both.

“That’s not what you should be focusing on. And that wasn’t even my point.” He waves you off with a gentle flick of his wrist.

“Spit it out.”

“We were doomed from the day we first met. It was meant to be happen this way.” He begins, and you can’t begin to understand what he’s getting at. Suguru often got philosophical after sex, “I believe it was Emil M. Cioran, who said “If you are doomed to devour yourself, nothing can keep you from it: a trifle will impel you as much as a tragedy. Resign yourself to erosion at all times: your fate wills it so.”

“Are you saying that there was nothing that I could have done to prevent you from leaving? That you are devouring yourself?” the words taste bitter on your tongue.

“I’m saying exactly that. The guilt is ridden all across her features each time I see you. Not only because you feel bad about us sleeping together. You can’t let go of it even eight years after, you carry it with you like a deadly weight. It’s going to drag you down one day, don’t you know?” He asks so nonchalantly, like he’s not expecting an answer. You offer him one anyway.

“And the part about devouring yourself?”

“Exorcise. Consume. Repeat it until everything inside you aches. My fate was written down on the day my cursed technique developed.” He’s quiet as he tells you this. Honest, for the first time in a while.

“And for you, that is synonymous to devouring yourself? Your technique?”

“More or less so. The rest of devouring is me reaching for a goal that is impossible to reach. Icarus flying too close to the sun, Laika trying to reach the stars.” He’s silent for a long moment after that.

You don’t really know what to say, either. The need to ask about why he was still doing this if he knew what the outcome was, dies down on your tongue. Instead, you hold onto his hand still tracing shapes on your arm. He gives your fingers a squeeze. The atmosphere of his bedroom is heavy and dark, melancholy weighing down heavy on your bones.

“You’re bad at pillow talk, Suguru.”

He offers you a small laugh, sound melodic and airy.

“And you’re trying to evade the topic. There was nothing you could’ve done, okay? And I don’t have plans for returning.” Your throat burns. The harsh reality that you have been trying so hard to avoid comes crashing down around you, “It’s not that you’re not good enough for me to turn my back on all of this. The thing is, you’re pretty, and caring, and your laugh, and your touch are the only things that can soothe my tired body.”

“You’re pouring salt into the wound.” You answer, and your voice is hallowed. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it. Deep down, you know that it’s the latter.

“My goals just always come first.” He adds, as if that wasn’t obvious, as if it hasn’t been the thing that’s haunted you for years, borrowing it so deep inside your body, soul and heart that it’s become familiar.

“Your goals always come first.” You echo, “You’ll die a selfish man, Suguru.”

He rearranges you into a more comfortable position, laying you down onto his chest and enveloping you both in a soft, warm blanket. His breathing matches yours and you feel yourself teetering along the edge of unconsciousness.

Suguru presses a kiss to your hairline, chuckling softly, before closing his own dark eyes. Can you even hear him anymore? Ah, no matter. He can always tell you the next time you come back to him.

“Don’t I know it, dear. Don’t I know it.”

[piosplayhouse]

to bare your heart to a faceless audience

[salmasfoggedforest]

Hit me, bruise me, cut me

[just-bnuuy-thoughts]

I'm in such a mood to be roughed up. Just mark me up and leave me bruised and sore until my masochism is sated. I want bit and scratched and slapped and laid low till I'm brainless.