Congrats youve discovered the Nsfw Sideblog to vampiresplunderedourcats !totally super secret! 💚stick around if you match my freak💚 they/them/any//24//V Just a place for my horny
Hi you can call me V. Feel free to send me your yummiest stuff🥵🙏 sfw is also welcome, this is a page for my horny thoughts and media consumption but i cant ignore the soft fics(not a writer but I love prompts or any art (with artist), fics or asks you want to send in)
(please don't send any requests/messages for ageplay, feeder, incest, piss, scat, or anything along those lines.)
!!!WARNING!!! IF YOU DON'T LIKE RELIGIOUS HORROR ELEMENTS THEN PLEASE DISREGARD THIS FIC.
The fields didn’t mind the silence. Wheat has a way of keeping its own counsel. Shoulders to the wind, heads bowed, never asking a man what he’s seen.
Simon learned to appreciate that.
He bought the farm after discharge: nine acres of tired soil and one hard, square house that kept its back to the road. Birds nested in the crooked gutter and a black dog from nowhere took up with him and slept against the Aga. The village sat two miles east, its lights paling late, its bells more suggestion than sound.
He woke before sun, did the work he knew and the work he didn’t, and when night pulled the sky shut he sat by the window and listened for engines that would never come. He liked that the fields didn’t care who he’d been.
The first night she appeared, the weather had been wrong all day. Warm air that should’ve gone cold, a fog lying low as if the ground exhaled and forgot to breathe in.
He saw her at the hedgerow threw his window: a figure in a torn black dress, standing the way a scarecrow stands when you’re too far to know if it just moved. Her hair was… wrong. Perfect, like it belonged to a photograph, not a person. It didn’t frizz in the damp or snag in the bramble; it floated. The rest of her was a ruin. Her mouth shone wet with something thicker than blood, the color of old oil. It dripped lazy ropes onto her collarbone and soaked the fabric until it clung.
The dog rose and growled from somewhere under the table. Simon put a hand down and the growl lowered.
He opened his front door. The hinge shrieked.
She turned her head like an animal hearing glass break. When their eyes met, his scalp prickled. Her pupils were too wide; the color around them, if it was color, seemed to be something she’d remembered rather than possessed.
“Hello,” she said. Then, as if she’d rehearsed it: “Hi. How are you?”
Her voice was every wrong syllable English learns by imitating. Behind the words, the wet scrape of hunger.
“Evening,” he said. He didn’t step back. Old training had taught him the lie of retreat.
She came closer, bear feet finding the exact places you’d avoid. Puddles, a nail in a plank, sharp rocks Simon hadn't got around to clearing, and yet her mouth made no sound. The black on her mouth glistened. It smelled of pennies and mushrooms and the salton unclean skin.
“You live,” she said, apparent delight blooming like mold on bread. “You are a living thing.”
“That's… right.”
“I am learning,” she told him. “People like to be… greeted.” She said it like a word from a manual. “I am practicing.”
Her gaze drifted over his shoulder to the warm rectangle of the kitchen. Then down to the dog’s eyes, coals in the dark.
“You can come in if you’re not here to hurt me,” he said, and was surprised to hear the words come out. Maybe the fields had made him stupid. Maybe he’d always been.
She thought about it as if searching for the file. “I will not hurt you,” she said. “Not yet.” Her odd attempt at a smile made Simon regret his offer. Her smile showed too many teeth, all the right shape, all the wrong number.
Inside he handed her a towel. She wiped at her mouth and black streaked the fabric like axle grease. She stared at the stain, then licked the towel clean in two quick laps, eyes closing as if savoring a spoonful of something sweet.
“You’re not human,” he said.
She cocked her head. “I am not,” she said brightly. “I am learning.”
“From where?”
“From you,” she said. “From the dark. From the big ones. From the little ones with the soft hands.” Her mouth widened. “They have very soft hands.”
He made tea because that’s what you do when something terrible is polite.
She didn’t drink it. She sniffed it the way an animal sniffs a trap, then smiled like a child at a trick. “This is made from leaves,” she said. “Leaves do not have souls.”
“You eat souls.”
“I eat only things with souls,” she corrected. “Some animals. Most people. You have…” She reached out, stopped short of touching his chest, fingers trembling with restraint he could feel in the air. “You have a good many. Some are loud.”
“That so.”
She leaned in until she smelled the cool just-shower smell. Her perfect hair brushed his jaw. “You carry them like lanterns. They hang on you. I like you for that.”
He didn’t flinch. “You shouldn’t.”
Her smile slid a little out of place. “I shouldn’t,” she agreed brightly. “But I do.”
That first night she sat at his table and watched him wash dishes. She watched the dog breathe. She watched the steam rise from a cracked cup as if it were language. When she finally stood to leave, the towel was clean again and the torn dress worse.
On her way out she said, “I will kill you later.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I figured.”
~
She came back often after that.
Sometimes she arrived before dawn with black wet on her and voices clinging to her like burrs. She’d stand in the scullery and let him hose her off, laughing when the water hit the hollow of her throat. The black ran in ribbons down the drain and made the smell stronger, like when rain unseals something buried.
Sometimes she came late, slipping in with the fog, sitting on the floorboards cross-legged, trying out phrases she’d found. “How’s your day,” she’d chirp. “How do you do. Lovely weather we are having,” as wind bit the windows.
She ate nothing he offered. Bread bored her. Meat went gray in the pan and withered as if it regretted itself. Milk curdled on the step when she looked at it too long. When she vanished for days at a time, the village noticed its absences. The bells tolled for the first one. After that they tolled less.
A notice went up in the post office by the stale mints: MISSING. Then two. Then they stopped putting up paper. The shopkeeper lowered his voice and told Simon the police were busy on the motorways. The vicar came by with leaflets about vigilance and asked if Simon had seen any strangers. Simon said no and the vicar’s eyes slid away like minnows.
On the worst night, she came in soaked to the elbows, face a halo of black gloss that never dried. The dog got up and went to the next room and lay down with his nose to the corner. She dropped something on the kitchen table with a soft wet thud. It was a pocket Bible with a thumbprint pressed deep into a page where the paper had gone thin from worry.
“I did not like the songs,” she said cheerfully, and opened the book to show him the holes her teeth had made.
“You’re the reason they’re missing,” he said, though it wasn’t a question.
She looked hurt for a heartbeat, practiced hurt, a mask. “They were very loud,” she said. “They were bright. Bright things make me hungrier.”
He thought of chalk scrawled around doorways, of chairs pulled against handles, of mothers telling children to be quiet in a way that teaches them something you can’t unteach. He washed the table where the book had been, long after the water ran clear.
~
In bed that night he faced the window and watched the dark make the hedges taller. He remembered a corridor that smelled like hot wires and piss, a man screaming through a gag, his own hands steady because that was the job. He understood then why the witch’s perfect hair made his teeth ache: it was a lie meant to soothe you, the way uniforms are lies. She had painted on the easiest part of being human and left the hard parts missing.
He fell in love like a man stepping off a step he misjudged.
Not all at once. Not like a song. More like realizing you’ve been humming under your breath this whole time and the tune isn’t going to stop.
It wasn’t about pity. He didn’t mistake the teeth for anything but teeth. It wasn’t about saving her. He wasn’t a savior. He didn’t have that in him anymore, if he ever did.
He loved the way her head tilted when swallows turned all at once above the barn. He loved how she tried to drink tea because that’s what the people in crisply lit living rooms did, and then spat it daintily into the sink and clapped for herself, delighted. He loved that she told him what she was going to do to him and didn’t bother pretending otherwise.
“You should run,” she’d say, lying on the floor with her hair arranged like she’d planned it,
“I should,” he’d say.
“Your soul will be delicious,” she’d whisper, eyes closing.
“Romantic.”
She practiced smiling in his hallway mirror. She practiced frowns, too, and frightened looks. Once she tried a laugh and it came out all wrong, so wrong it made his eyes sting. He showed her how to deadpan. “You don’t have to show all your teeth,” he said, and she nodded, immediately less terrible and somehow worse.
When the village finally came, it was the wrong kind of night for torches. Wet, wind pressing the rain sideways, making flame a stubborn, needy thing that gulped air. They came anyway, six men and two boys with shirts over their mouths and a borrowed shotgun passing from hand to hand. Someone had chalked crosses on their brows that rain was eating away.
Simon saw the glow on the lane and stood in the doorway with his coat unbuttoned. The dog hid under the dresser. The witch sat at the table with her hands folded just so, her back too straight, a schoolgirl in a parody of attention.
“Evening, gents,” Simon said. “Help you?”
“Where is she?” The man with the shotgun had a face from the butcher’s window in the village. Red meat and white fat and something stringy between was all she saw when looking at him. His boy stood behind him with terrified eyes that had already learned hatred.
“In the kitchen,” Simon said.
“Stand aside.”
“No.”
They looked at him differently then. Not a farmer. Not a neighbor. A man who could get in the way.
The butcher lifted the gun and its mouth looked absurdly small. The witch stood. It was a graceful motion, a dancer’s lift, and he could see her thinking. Is this how a person would stand? Even as the black on her lips thickened and her stare flattened like a shark’s turning.
“Leave,” she said, in the tone you use with a toddler and a hot stove.
The men moved first. She met him halfway. It was very fast. The sound they all made afterward wasn’t human or animal.
After that it was work for her. That’s what it looked like: Work. She moved through the torches and the men’s prayers and the rain, and where she moved everything ended. The black on her mouth steamed. When she turned, her hair did not. It hung perfect and shining while the rest of her was a slaughterhouse drain.
Simon didn’t help. He didn’t stop her. He stood in his own doorway and thought, This is what I am now. The dog pressed into the dresser and didn’t make a sound.
By dawn, the lane was empty but for bloodied torches guttered into sticks and a streak down the ditch where dark red water ran thicker than it should. The witch came back inside, humming a tune he recognized from the vicarage. Her face was all wrong and then, by degrees, even more wrong. She blinked too often. She smiled black, red, and wide. She set the kettle on the hob and watched it with fixed delight until steam cried and rattled the lid.
Then stopped.
“You could have stopped me,” she said without looking. Standing by the kettle.
“I know,” he said.
“You did not.”
“I know.”
She glanced at him with a puzzle-piece expression, like she’d expected one shape and found another. “I am saving you,” she said, with a child’s pride.
“For last,” he said.
“For best,” she corrected cheerfully.
~
He bathed her in the scullery again. He scrubbed the black off her chin and wrung out the ruined dress and hung it beside the coats. He put a hand to the flawless weight of her hair and felt nothing but the idea of silk.
When the village was nothing but a habit of looking toward where it used to be, the fields grew tall and mean. Wheat went feral without the pressure of eyes. Simon worked in the heat and listened to the insects, and the witch practiced her faces and got very good at surprise. Sometimes he saw a woman in her, briefly, like a portrait underneath a painting. He suspected that wasn’t for him.
warnings - Toji plays LADS and falls for you pulling for Sylus cards on twitch hehe,explicit sex, p in v sex, masturbation, cumshots, creampies, filming it, mating press, oral (m and f receiving) obsessed Toji - 3k wc
pornstar! toji who is of course known as 'daddy' by the porn industry, the girls all line up to fuck him, especially once they see just what his mouth can do. Toji was nothing if not competitive, so he makes sure when he's sharing a costar to lick her a little longer, to fuck her a little harder, shove his cock so deep there's no 'acting for the cameras' no, they're creaming, squirting or dripping for him on and off set.
pornstar! toji loves easy money, why wouldn't he? What's easier than making girls cum, he's always been good at it, there's no question about that. The industry welcomed him and his chiseled body and thick, veiny cock with open arms, just as all the women welcomed him with spread thighs, mouths open, tongues out. He loved to finish right on a pretty star's face, spurts of hot liquid just pulsing from his reddened tip, smirking just a bit in the cameras as it catches the 'money shot'.
pornstar! toji doesn't really watch porn, as he's always around it, and it's not actually his thing. Many would be surprised to know Toji would take a good audio JOI over visual, or sometimes he just enjoys to read some filthy smut - not that he ever lets people know that of course, he has a bit of a reputation to uphold! Another secret he can't let be known is his fascination with an otome game purely due to the story line at first, and then the pretty live streamer.
pornstar! toji was mortified at first, how can he romance 'men' when he loves pussy? Well the battle tactics were so good, he couldn't stop himself from getting into it a bit, and the story lines were good okay!? He gets shit on from Gojo, Geto and Sukuna when he plays on set, and they hear the telltale music, but really they can fuck off, considering he can outlast all of them despite being older. Yet, it's not just the game that's got him obsessed... it's you.
pornstar! toji found your livestream because he just sure wasn't spending that much money on a card, and you were getting donations the entire stream, giggling as you drew the cards, smile making him ache. That's when he starts typing, and you react in the stream, reading his name that he's too old to change - so it literally says 'pornstar toji'. You giggle and love his chats, soon he's donating to you, excessively, a hundred here, three hundred here, and ends up hanging out in your chats, in your discords, you start looking forward to him too.
pornstar! toji almost died when you say his name the first time, 'Toji! Ah, you're here, I'm excited!' you have these cute little pink cat earphones on, leaned back in your bright pink gamer chair, you're just fucking adorable, and he can't help but start to picture how good it would feel to fucking ruin you. But can he, ruin a sweet streamer, even as she's sipping on her little drink, lips wrapping that straw and making him ache? He starts to touch himself just watching you light up and get your memories, lose your battles so bad you just go on auto, he can't help but leak milky pre when you giggle and say his name again and again.
pornstar! toji thinks of you, the pretty LADS streamer even when he's got a girl bent over, his hands wrapping around her as he pounds his cock, turning her face to him and then faltering right on set. Somehow he imagined you, your pretty face, your sweet little gasps as his cock pounds you, he shuts his eyes for a moment and then leans back, grabbing her hips, cock moving in and out of her underneath that latex. He's never off his game, never a day in his life, but for some reason he's just a little thrown off, he can't cum or make that money shot.
pornstar! toji is frustratedly jerking one of his huge hands up and down his cock, trying to get close after having excused himself, but he can't even get close until he pulls up the stream from last night, and hears your voice - 'oh, Toji you're so sweet, you didn't have to superchat that much!' - and that's what gets Toji close, when you're freaking out over a Sylus card you got and gasping out and his mossy green eyes flutter shut he can just picture it, being inside you, stretching your pretty cunt out, filling you up, ruining you for anyone ever. The thoughts are too much, overtaking his every day ones, even making fucking breakfast he can't stop picturing your thighs spread wide on his marble counter.
pornstar! toji starts to become more obsessed, in fact you're all he can think about, he cancels his next set because you're doing a live stream and he can't miss it, losing out on money and spending it on you, what the fuck is going on? Yet Toji is the first one, and you're all alone, when you lean forward a bit, and you sit the mic firmly against your head, smiling at the camera. 'Did some research,' Toji flushes a bit at that, the way you look at him through the screen as he holds the phone in his hand almost delicately, lovingly having you in his palm. 'You're famous, and I was so clueless, that's so cool.' He chuckles a bit and types out - 'gotta keep a low profile, doll' - to you, making you heat up at the memories of what you watched a bit of last night.
pornstar! toji doesn't realize you'd touched yourself to him, you thought at first you'd just be curious, but how could you not be soaking wet watching him put a costar in a full Nelson and fuck her senseless? You didn't even think that was a real position, suddenly you felt so nervous and intimate talking to him, maybe you loved it already when he said your outfits were cute, maybe you already enjoyed him so much, giddy every time he threw in a quiet comment, but you truly thought he was kidding with the name, even now you're so sure that it can't be actually him. 'Your secret is safe with me,' you murmur softly, going to the stream and trying not to bite that lip to death with how needy you feel, imagining him picking you up and just fucking throwing you around like he does.
pornstar! toji was worried you'd not like him if he told you, it's nonsense as you're a streamer and he's a pornstar, it's not like you're dating, but also what a dream if you ever would want to. Toji's not like this, not at all actually, he's not a romantic or someone filled with nonsense, yet every day he thinks of you more and more. There's no event for a week so he doesn't see you, and he hesitates before privately writing you, sure you're going to think he's a weirdo, he is almost forty and a seasoned star after all, and he's sure you get hit on alot, but he just... wants to know you're good, and perhaps that scares him more. But you respond, with a fucking selfie, as if to just torture him.
pornstar! toji cancels his next set to talk to you via discord all day, him the top star with a book and list of exclusive shows, but how can he do that when he's grinning like a high school Toji in puppy love!? When he sends a pic back and it's fuzzy and out of focus, you can't help but giggle yourself, cancelling all your plans too, because you can't help but be enamored. When you call him, though? Toji panics, staring at it like it's an accident, palm sweaty - him, who has no problem being in a gang bang vid, who jerks it on livestream to thousands, he's shy to speak to you. At the last moment, his thumb hovers, and you say a shy little 'hey' which is enough to just destroy him completely.
pornstar! toji murmurs back a 'hey doll,' and you recognize the voice from the videos, a blushing mess now as you nibble on your thumb. 'Toji, you're... really great at it, at um... your career?' he chuckles then, leaned back and shutting his eyes, picturing you in his mind. 'Yeah, ya enjoy my work, huh? You seem so sweet and... innocent, a good girl, but you're not are you?' that's when it gets quiet, and you let out a little whimper. Toji pauses, narrowing his eyes, staring into the phone like he misheard, but then you do it again. 'You're touching yourself to m'voice, huh doll? you're that slutty?' No one has ever talked to you like that, the gruff voice degrading you fucks you up, he hits daddy issues you didn't even know you had and you can't help what comes tumbling out of your mouth. 'come visit me.'
pornstar! toji is on a plane that fucking night, you're a few hours worth of a flight away, and it's well worth it when he rides in the back of the car to your place, and you nervously open the door. Seeing you in person for the first time, you thought it would be awkward, thought you'd be nervous, opening it wide and inviting him inside, but it's anything but that. Toji steps in like he owns the place, towering six foot plus over everything, broad shoulders nearly taking over your little door way. You inhale his musky scent as he walks in, shutting that door behind you, leaning low. 'Why don't you be a good girl, and get on your knees f'me?'
pornstar! toji pulls his leaky cock out as you do just that, sinking to your knees, your cute little top and white pleated skirt slipping up the plush of your thighs, obediently listening as he tilts your chin up. 'What if I'm... not as good as...' he pauses you then, thumb pressing between your lips, shaking his head. 'Doll, just open that pretty mouth, huh?' you obey, earning another good girl, there you go that makes you tremble, wondering how insane you are for this, but when you taste his salty precum on your tongue, swirling it around the ridge of his tip, earning his moan? You're past thinking, especially when his head rests on the door, and his huge hands hold your face in place. 'Gonna make sure your throat knows my shape'
pornstar! toji fucks into your throat, feeling you gag and choke, tears leaking from your eyes as his pre drips down your tight little throat, you're rocking back and forth against his leg, soaking him and making him throb. 'suckin' me so well too,' your throat is tightening around him in response to his husky praise, he groans now, so sensitive like he's never been. Toji can go forever, but just looking down at your pretty eyes glittering with a sheen of tears and feeling you gulping him is enough to make him bust, he has to try to hold back, brushing your hair almost tenderly. 'that's it, doll, you're perfect f'me, aren't you?' You're trembling, overwhelmed, but you don't stop, your hands gripping his thighs for balance, your nails digging into his thighs over his jeans, and that's when he pulls out, letting you gasp for air, spit and tears smeared across your face.
pornstar! toji whispers then - 'God doll, look at ya, doing such a good job' his praise makes you tremble, as he drags a thumb over your swollen lips, ones he hasn't kissed yet that are smeared with his precum and your drool. He helps you up then, turning you and kneeling, slipping your panties down your thighs, smirking as he sees them. 'Ya got Sylus on your panties?' you giggle, coughing just a bit and looking down, nodding. 'You're devoted, huh?' he slips them down to your ankle, right over a pretty pink little Mary Jane, groaning at how fucking cute you are. 'You look this cute all for me?' you bite down on your lip, hands entangling in his hair when he spins you back around, kissing hungrily up your thigh. 'I love when you tell me my outfit is cute,' you admit, so adorable and blushing, he kisses up your thighs, teeth sinking into the plush of one, moaning then. 'All of you is perfect, f-fuck look at this cunt, drippin' and I haven't even touched it? Slutty little pussy.'
pornstar! toji soon devours that pretty cunt in his face with filthy flicks of a long tongue, his sounds are lewd as he worships you on his knees, huge hands grabbing your hips and lifting you up, until you're just off the floor, thighs on other side of his head. You gasp out - 'T-toji! You can't...' he just grins against your cunt, your hands entangling in those inky locks. 'Oh you're so cute, doll, I'm gonna have so much fun ruining you,' he sucks your twitchy little clit in his hot, filthy mouth, humming on it. 'Toji!' you're screaming out as his chin drips from your soppy little hole spasming, his mouth vibrating better than any toy you've ever had, and you just let go, letting him hold you like you're nothing, shaking and arching your back, eyes rolling back in your skull.
pornstar! toji can't get enough of you, your sweet cunt just pouring, fuck he's never tasted anything better, and he's damn sure his career is ruined once he's sipping you up, his life is over on his knees, worshipping your cunt like he's praying at a fucking altar, relishing in every flick and hum until you shatter. And fuck you're beautiful when you do, going so slack he has to completely hold you up, pressing messy kisses on your clit while holding your plump lips apart, groaning against you. Toji stands right with you, throwing you around like you are a doll, about to let you know that you're a career ender, when you murmur - 'what about doing a vid with me on cam' all fucked out and dizzy.
pornstar! toji smirks now, cupping your face, kissing you with your juices as your legs wrap his hips. 'Ya wanna be a star, huh doll? well I can, but you'll only be my star, can you be that f'me?' you nod eagerly, lost in him before you've even had his cock and soon Toji is helping you set it up, being careful to block out your face just in case you change your mind, you realize how sweet he is even as he's folding you in half in a mating press, running the drooling tip of his cock between your soppy folds. 'I'm gonna fill you up so full, till you're drippin' me out on stream'
pornstar! toji makes good on that promise, he doesn’t tease your pretty little cunt long, just enough to study your pretty face, thumb brushing over your cheek reverently. He doesn't say it yet - but he's down fucking bad, in love with you, the moment his cock enters your tight little cunt. He gives you just an inch until you cry out 'more!' and then Toji gives you just that, slamming into you with one brutal thrust, filling you completely. The stretch burns, and you cry out at first, he lets you adjust for just a moment before lifting you up higher, knees damn near against the mattress, bottoming out with his tip against your cervix, you whine out weakly and your eyes lock for just a moment. 'Am I gonna be your only star?' you ask softly, he groans then, kissing you and pulling back to smile, that little scar on his lip stretching, still glossy from your cunt. 'You already are.'
pornstar! toji makes sure to get your best angles, you've been thinking of doing videos with your fan base growing, but never did you truly think of it until Toji Fushiguro. He pumps you so full of his thick, veiny cock, as the little ring light stand with your camera captures every thrust, but it doesn't capture how he cups your face, how he murmurs your name softly. It doesn't get to see how your fingers entwine at that angle, no it gets his heavy palls smacking your ass while arousal all creamy just gushes down it in pulses, but it doesn't see your little giggle or his big grin. When he asks if he can cum inside you beg for it, so eager it sends him, filling you and groaning so loud no one's ever heard him make noise like that, easing out and eyeing it then the mess you've made.
pornstar! toji uses his tip to gather that milky cum, pushing it back into you again, but he cuts the cameras soon, kissing you and making you writhe underneath him, kissing across your pretty breasts, lost in you. The next morning you wake up littered in marks from his hungry mouth, with him snoring next to you in your bed. You're nervous, but he wakes up with a smile, murmuring - 'ain't the Raf event today? Lemme stream with you.'
pornstar! toji and you are a match made in heaven, as you're pulling for cards thanks to the insane money you all made last night, and Toji's down there between your thighs where the stream can't be, lapping up your pretty, abused hole. 'R-raf come home for me,' you murmur out on the stream, while Toji grins up between your thighs, thumb running circles on your clit. 'He's my main,' Toji murmurs softly, and you can't help but cut off stream for a little 'break' and kiss your new pornstar boyfriend.
this was based on baby you're a star toji!! hehe this was so funnn and went too long for but I hope ya'll enjoyeddd - he may need his own damn oneshot AT LEAST!!!
monster women with thick/long fingers and tongues to prod into your sticky cunt
monster women with sharp teeth to nip at your thighs to keep you still beneath them
monster women strong enough to hold your weight mid-air while they fuck you with their tongue
monster women with huge cocks/straps, with spines, knots, veins, etc that rub against you and perfectly nestle into your g-spot
monster women who groan and grunt when you suck them off/eat them out after, tasting yourself on them. their clawed hands digging into your scalp, restraining themselves from bucking against your cute little mouth
monster women who purr and cuddle you up against their chest afterward, keeping you nice, warm, and content
