want to play with you in front of a friend who's eager to learn new experiences. make you explain to them, through your whines and babbles and embarrassment, why you like it and how you feel. let them touch you just to prove that no one could ever touch you like i can.
CW: NSFW CONTENT, Short imagine scenario, no specific character, blowjob (reader receiving), hair-pulling, deep-throating, inexperienced character (lowkey was thinking about nerd Gojo), not really proofread and rushed
A pretty nerd was giving you a blowjob for the first time. His glasses wonky on his face as he was looking up at you with teary eyes. His mouth clearly occupied as drool was dripping down his chin. Fuck, doesn't he look so good with your cock in his mouth.
"...Shitβdon't use your teeth.." You hissed, looking down at him. He would let out a small whineβalmost sounding apologetic as he slowly bobbed his head. You moaned at his slow pace, your hand finding his hair and grabbing a fist full of strands. Not hard enough to hurt but firm enough guide him to go faster. Another whine left him before a gag interrupted him when the tip of your cock hit the back of his throat.
His hands flew to your thighs, holding onto you. He knew that some people gag when giving head but he thought he'd practice enough to not do this! At the same time, a banana doesn't compare to the real thingβ
He would then feel your fingers tap on his cheek, making him look up at you again with glossy eyes. His glasses were about to fall off so you took them off of him. Closing and setting them aside neatly before you turned your attention back on him.
"Breathe through your nose sweetheart.." you murmured. You then guide his head again by his hair. Quiet moans left your lips while small whines and silent gags were heard from him as you made him take you deeper again.
Eventually, he got it. Breathing through his nose as he bobbed his head more eagerly. He let out a muffled moan as he closed his eyes.
Sure, he'll need some more work but you'll be very glad to teach him more.
It looked like the gods had finally decided to spice up his life.
The pain made him wince, but he couldnβt hide his arousal. His eyes scrunched when you pressed harder with the foot of your boots, and he bit his lipβhardβto muffle the groan that wouldβve erupted if he didnβt. You looked down at him, the bathroom light crowning your head like a divine deity, a disappointed look on your face. He wouldβve never thought his boss would corner him in a dirty little stall in the middle of the work day, punishing blessing him with your foot pushed up against his crotch.
βDokja.βΒ
His ears perked up.
βYes?β His voice wavered. He couldnβt read you.
Obviously, he had done something to piss you off; he just couldnβt tell what. The corners of his lips threatened to quirk upβhe was thankful that whatever he did led to this.
βYouβve been acquainting yourself with your co-workers these past few weeks, hmm?β
Ah. Jealousy? No way. What for?
βJust the usualββ
βDonβt lie to me.β
Oh. You were pissed. You dug your foot harder, and he couldnβt hide the noise, a whimper falling from his lips. He brought his hand up to cover his mouthβhe knew he was blushing. This was fucking humiliating, and yet, he couldnβt stop his dick from hardening against the pressure of his boss hovering over him, exalting every ounce of authority you had. He didnβt think he was one for masochism, but the pain shot electricity up his spine.
βIs itβ¦ a problem?β He knew the answer already.
βYou know the answer to that.β
βHaahβ¦ I didnβt realize I hadβughβcaught your attentionβ¦β
You lifted your leg. He missed it. It was just your foot, but somehow heβd already grown attached, the pressure offering relief he didnβt realize he needed. Never in his life did he think someone would pay this much mind to him, let alone consider others a rival for his attention.
βStand up.β
He scrambled to his feet. There wasnβt a single bone in his body that desired to disobey you, not when your eyes held such a condescending glint. Not when you looked at him as if he were already yours.
βThisββ you palmed his dick, βIs mine.βΒ
His breath was ragged. Your breath was on his ears, your lips centimeters away from them. And then he felt itβyour wet tongue dragging from his earlobe to the top. His body writhed, the sensation so intense he couldnβt stop the strangled moan that left his throat. It was so unexpected, he thought heβd cum from it.
What the hell?
βRemember that.β
Then door was pushed open, and you walked out, leaving him. He slid down the stall wall, his mind a mess, unsure of what to make of the encounter.Β
Confusion. Desperation. Excitement.
The darkened spot on the crotch of his pants would agree. How was he supposed to return to work?
just want u to know that reading that dom Xie Lian piece has done irreparable damage to my heath. take responsibility and come back here to tell us more about it (gives u the mic)
hope u are doing well and life is being kind to u byee
careful now, butter fingers. ill break the mic DONT ASL ME ANYTHING ABT THAT WORK OF ART IT WAS A KOMENT OF WEAKNESS BETWEEN ME AND MY BAD GYAL NIIK @niilue BABY TELL EM THE TRUTH.
Imagine coming back to your dormitory, tired and ready to retire for the night only to find an omega in your bed.
Imagine catching poor little omega!Satoru in heat, rubbing his pussy raw, teary eyed from self-inflicted overstimulation. You would almost coo at his pretty trembling pout if you weren't hit with yet another surprise- Your sweaty boxers which you used during workout, clutched in Satoru's grip.
Imagine him huffing cutely as he holds your musky boxers close while trying to make himself cum (spoiler: it's not working).
Imagine the audacity of the omega to be surprised when you mount him and breed his tummy full of babies right there.
(Imagine him coming back every weekend-)
- I luv ur works!!
needy whiny horny omega satoru in his heat rubbing his clit writhing on your bed drowning in your hoodie clutching your dirty boxers moaning inhaling that ridiculous alpha musk whimpering your name having filthy fantasies about you knotting his cute little tummy and breeding his virgin pussy and filling his fluttery hole to the brim with hot thick cum until heβs leaking, belly plump and pregnant with child is perfect.
he doesnβt even know heβs presenting to you until he is, arms folded with his chest pressed neatly onto the mattress, back bending into the perfect arch, ass raised into the air and slick-soaked pussy facing you. and youβre just another alpha, after all. how could you ever resist him?
"Don't get me started on samura" Please dooo π. Need this man torn apart, screaming and sweating in ecstacy
β #STUPID! Kagurabachi.
ββββββββββ who is he to show up to your after-party and assume nothing will go down? .α.α
β€Ώ pairings. samura seiichi x gn reader
β€Ώ contents. sub character, pwp, angst, cheating, bathroom sex, blowjob. this contains mature content, read at your own discretion.
β€Ώ thoughts. fam, forgive me.
Someone in my asks practically said suicidal old men have weak game, and I couldn't agree more. That man is physically thirsty with want and need. He tries not to consume himself in lust, it isn't going to do him any good, it'll only make him feel worse about himself.
The thought of being loved and chased after all the sins he's committed... he hates it. He doesn't do it, he won't do it. But I like to think that once in a while, his desperation can get unbelievably unbearable.
Isn't it funny?
He tries to deny himself of love, no matter how much he craves it. Which is why I think it's the most effective method in ruining this man. Samura can say what he feels is just lust, but he knows. He knows very well that this desire will break him.
You're just another townsfolk, but you treated him like he was normal. Not some war veteran, not some war criminal, not a hero; someone to admire, not an animal; someone to look down upon. A regular person.
You treated his daughter with respect, as if she was your own, and that's what got him. His heart would pound in his ears any chance he saw that two of you together β but oh man, it isn't love.
Nope, nope. He's stupid. So stupid. So insensitive to your feelings. He pushes you away, everyone away and tries to justify it as 'I don't want you to get hurt'.
'Coward,' β you called him. It's not an insult, its the blunt truth β 'you'll enjoy my hatred because you're scared.'
He agrees. Crass man.
He's gone through so much stuff, battles, war, hunger, lonliness, bears so many scars, emotionally and physically, yet he can't even think of you with another one without the horrible churn in his stomach and the painful ache in his heart.
Something closely related to committing a sin.
He wasn't your lover. He has no right over you, no choice.
He's always been dumb with love. He knows enough to pull away. Nevertheless, he still shows up to your wedding.
He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't feel a heavy rock in his heart nor the burn behind his eyelids. He's so stupid. Get up, and leave. He can't even see anything!!
He stayed. Until the very end, fingers twitching around his glass of sake β a typical celebratory drink - now turned sour. He huddled himself in a small corner, trying his best to stay as invisible as possible, but then he got a whiff of you, and his back straightened up like a dog awaiting its owners return.
Your scent fills his senses, alarms going off in his head, as you thank the guests for showing up. You're a foot away, there's no way you haven't spotted him. His fingers clench in a fist, nails digging into his palm for some sort of support.
Maybe he should've bought some company. Maybe he shouldn't have put so much effort into his appearance. Who is he trying to impress? Yeah, he reels himself as he feels the smile radiating off of you, it's you.
Why? Why?? It's not like you'll leave your beloved for him. What has he got that makes him so special.
"Seichii." This is hell. His name sounds so sweet on your tongue. "...It's nice to see you again."
He's sweating bullets as he forces out a small, nervous chuckle, "i could say the same... but - i can't... see, heh.."
Oh. That was just his way of saying he's going to hurt himself when you turn away. Just kidding.
"Yeah," you exhale air from your nostrils. He'd like to think you actually found his joke funny, the corner of his lip quirking up to form an awkward smile. "Seiichi?"
"Yeah?" How embarrassing. He didn't mean to reply so eagerly.
"Thank you for being here." He thinks this truly is hell. "I worried about you living all alone up on the hill.."
He isn't alone. He's got his 'guards', and he's capable, but he misses the doting. "It's my p-pleasure, hah?"
He swallows thickly when your finger taps under his small cup, gently prodding it to his lips, he shuts up quickly.
You laugh at the sight. It's a hearty, genuine laugh. His heart squeezes, "We'll be having an after-party. I hope to see you there -"
He isn't going.
"...Sei'."
Oh, brother.
You turn away.
He permits the alcohol to sit on his tongue before letting it dribble back into the cup, as gross as it sounds.
Your last words ring in his head. That little nickname only you called him.
Sei. Sei. Sei β "Sei."
Nonononono.
Samura grips onto the bathroom handles, the tight stall stopping him from slipping. His arms feel like jelly!
"Haven't you thought of this?" You muse, lips dancing across his hip bone, squeezing his thighs in reassurance. "I have. Ruining you, messing you up so badly you'll fall in love again. I've always had a feeling you loved me. Did you?"
Samura's cigarette goes slack in his mouth. The temptation to light it is strong. His breathing deepens, it's a visible reaction to your actions. "Ngh β w-we shouldn't do this.."
Though he throws his head back, flaunting off the multiple hickeys given to him, his adam apple bounces as he gulps.
You laugh, warm hand gently pumping his shaft, fingers barely touching him β he came in his pants from kissing you, it was so cute. He acted like a virgen β "as you've been saying. Do you really want me to stop? Just say the word.."
He's barely just got out of his clouded mind, he needs to think straight, but man, does it feel good.
Samura huffs out shakily, eyes darting around under their lids. His sensitivity is to the roof. And it doesn't help that your teeth sink into the root of his pelvis, nibbling on him.
"Ahh!"
It feels like a claim. This is a reminder that you'd always be a part of him, even if you marry another. Even if you sleep with that person, even if you have children β he'll be your property for life.
You're married. You have been compromised. Your spouse is outside, partying at his own wedding. What if they're looking for you? Your friends? Family?? Lover???
"Ahh," you mock him by opening your mouth and taking only the head of his cock into your mouth, soft lips closing around the curve.
He shakes, knees bucking underneath his weight. He holds himself up with his forearms, ignoring the burn of the plaster against his skin as his arm slips from the thin walls.
Your tongue lays flat.
Movemovemove.
Do something. Anything. Don't pull away.
Ah, he wants more.
He looks down as if that'll make him see again. He shakes his head rapidly, nononono. He can't do more.
"[Name]." He utters your name so softly, like a prayer. His glasses slip down his nose, and he's quick to bring a trembling hand to fix them. "You can't do this to me..."
His words come out like vomit, one of his hands clench at his white dress shirt, right over his heart as if he's in physical pain. He thinks so, but it's mixed with pleasure.
His foot taps against the tiled floor, hunching over your crouched figure. "It's h-hngg hurts...!!"
"Me hurch ya?" You muffle out, tongue lapping up all his leaking pre on his tip, it smears against your tongue. It tastes salty and thick, but it's worth it. His hips are clumsily thrusting up into your mouth, and his leg jumps like a ruthless rabbit in heat.
You pull off of him, leaving him whining into the hot air. "That's inevitable."
"[Nam-]!"
"Don't you hear that?" Your hot breath fans across his twitching cock, he tries to listen in but his only senses are filled with you. You, you, you. "Someone's calling for me. How do you think this'll look?"
His mouth waters.
He falls back onto the toilet, thankfully the seat is covered, thumb rubbing away at the wet head, sinking his nail into his urethra in a shaky, desperate motion to at least sooth the insufferable burn his feverish red tip feels.
"How will we explain this? Maybe I'll tell them you dragged me in here to make me watch you masturbate."
His hips lift and squirm into his hand with a gasp.
"Or I can tell them the truth," you whisper to yourself. "But that'd only be if you let me have you."
Samura can't have that.
"Can't!" A sob nearly forces his way out when he hears the thud of your knees hitting the floor, your fingers dig into his muscular thighs, spreading them apart to wedge yourself in between them.
Samura nearly closes them shut from the thought of being stimulated.
All it takes is for your mouth to engulfe him, and he's shooting a load into your mouth. Your eyes widen at the unexpected moment.
Is he that easy?
His hips lift off the seat, arching deeper into you as his wavering hands scramble to find footing underneath his body.
"A-ahh!!" He yelps. His thighs shake in your tight hold, the sound of his belt buckling echoes in the empty bathroom stall.
His head hits something porcelain. He doesn't care.
He was palpitating with delight.
You detach yourself from him with a pop, and he whimpers from the loss of warmth only for it to be muffled when your fingers find his jaw, prying his mouth open. Spit dribbles down, and you watch in satisfaction as he jolts.
"Hah?" He pants in confusion.
And then he feels it β a salty tasting and thick substance on his tongue. His eyebrows furrow with need. A whimper leaves him when your tongue meets his messily, pushing the liquid into the back of his throat, giving him no other choice but to swallow.
When you pull away, you finally make up your mind, a string of drool connects your lips. You wipe it off with your thumb, pushing whatever you can into his maw. His tongue peaks out to take you in. His body quivers with aftershocks, hips melting and spent cock relaxing against him.
"I will disappear, and you will not have to endure me any longer."
warning: twt link. sub character. gender neutral reader. slight pet play. idk why im into it atm. tried to find solo vids but i gave up after not getting what i wanted.
rendering michael kaiser into shambles and a face puffed up from crying almost seems like a fever dream, something no one could believe. but here you are. his hair is unruly from all the times you've had to pull his head back to mark him up, breaking skin, sucking on his favorite spot to hear those precious whines of his.
his muscular body bumps against the creaking chair, shaking, quivering to the point of no return. he wants that stupid mask off. he is no dog, why should he wear this muzzle.
what kind of humiliation ritual is this?
kaiser's sturdy arms yank at his cuffs, huffing and puffing like a big ol' canine that can't escape from a cage. "ready to apologize?"
"what is there to apol- uhgg-gizeee forrr?" his dick weeps when you lean close to his face, your lips inches away from the muzzle. you're so close, he can feel your breath fan through the mask. his half lidded gaze falls upon your lips. "uhm- ahh... s-sorry?"
your eyes narrow. his bratty behavior can't be excused so easily, not when he can't even sound sincere. "you can do better than that, darling."
"come onnn," his voice breaks with a whine, "touch me again, i already 'pologized!!"
"nope." your thumb circles around the areola of his nipple, he flinches with a violent gasp. "we'll stay here until you pass out from sheer pleasure."
YEAH I GET YOU SO BAD i wanna gobble him up and get him all flustered n shit maybe he'll try to hold onto his sanity, he's older so he has experience, lots. but it's been a while so that's why he's having trouble gasping for air
HJM AND SAMURA ARE GETTING IT ONNN I WILL NOT LET THEM REST
He thinks he's sooo smart, sooo calm, so unconcerned but give him the most tender kiss to his cheek and hug him from behind, he'll give in to anything you ask of him.
In that same position, fiddle with his belt loops, tugging on them, fiddle with the button, tug his shirt out. His tattooed hand will calmly grasp at your fingers, doing it himself but when you tell him β 'wanna see how you like it' β he'll raise a brow. He so doesn't want to do that.
The first action he gets in years ends up being held to your chest, his fist pumping around his throbbing cock, it's flushed red and the head is pierced so it feels a lot more sensitive, and your arms tighten around his waist at the sight.
'I hope you're satisfied, [n-name].' He pants out between grunts, his free hand clinging onto the arms around his waist, fingers curling with the fabric of your jacket. 'I'll teach you how, hahh, to t-touch me later...'
I think he lack of experience on your part is also a major turn-on for him. The fact that he can shape you up, corrupt you into touching him so perfectly that he can really only cum by your hand now...
And then you'll defy him, taking matters into your own hands; denying his orgasm, neglecting him, leaving him wanting, yearning. Whispering words of degradation into his ear, eating him up with a simple phrase of 'I'll find another. He'll be a good man, yura...'
He's whipped. Oh, he loves it so much. Your threats, your need to satisfy him all while he's the one wrapped around your pinkie. He's in control, he tries to affirm, he's the one with the upper hand.
But everyone knows he's wrong. You know it better than anyone else. With the way he stares up at you when he's on his knees, foot nudging against his soaked slacks as you guide him to rut against your shoes.
And, judging by the creaking trees, random gusts of fire, sorcery going haywire.. he gets lost in submission.
stormborns
dailybridgerton
dededos
theartofmadeline
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
