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Notes: Riding old man Zandik's shoes :3c Inspired by this post by @mykingdottore. Banged this out because my brain needed a break from other projects, so not proofread ^^
Tags: Zandik x fem reader, kinda mean Zandik, established relationship, implied power imbalance, implied age gap, boot riding, impact play, finger sucking, smut
Minors DNI
"You really are getting off from this?" Zandik clicked his tongue with a dissatisfaction that was as familiar as the frost creeping along the stone walls.
A quiet little whimper was all you could get out in response, the polished tip of his boot pressing just right against your clit. You'd been rutting against him for long enough that your thighs burned with the strain and your knees had to be raw from the floor.
He sighed above you. If not for the fact that he had allowed you this, allowed your naked body to settle by his feet while he read in his plush armchair, you might have felt ashamed.
Instead, you ground yourself down a little harder, rubbing your slick folds along the polished leather while nuzzling your head against his knee. You clutched his leg a little tighter, quietly wishing he'd shed a few layers to let you touch skin.
A breath later and cold metal dug into your cheek, the corvid-skull handle of his cane dragging along your skin until he could force your chin up. Zandik's narrowed eyes, still sharp and analytical despite the years, looked almost disgusted as he adjusted the monocle with his free hand.
Your stomach fluttered and a small moan wormed its way from your lips.
Zandik huffed and tapped your cheek once with the cane, a dull sound echoing through your jaw.
"Disgraceful."
But instead of putting a stop to your little ruts, Zandik grunted as he changed position to flex his foot, the toe of his boot pushing harder against your core.
You yelped at the sudden pressure, vision going white in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Before he could withdraw his cane, your lips wrapped around the metal and you suckled, gazing up at him through the haze of desire. Your movements grew a little bolder, dragging yourself along the leather until your clit bumped against the seam atop his arch.
"Don't suck on that-! Foolish little vixen." The scolding was mild but absolute, and Zandik pulled the cane away to instead whap your ass gently with the other end. There was no time to protest, two gloved fingers pushing past your lips and holding down your tongue.
Your spit soaked into the dark cotton, worn to protect delicate skin from the bitter cold without hindering what dexterity remained. Zandik pressed his shoe up more insistently, moving it slowly from side to side. The tip of his cane tapped your thigh, urging them apart as you continued to cling to his leg, hands knowing better than push your luck and reach for his belt.
"I'm only letting you have this so you'll finally settle and let me finish this chapter," he hissed out. Though his own breathing was clearly strained from holding back, you didn't doubt that he had no intention of giving you more than this.
Pleasure continued to build while Zandik rubbed the pads of his fingers against your tongue in time with the steady grind of his shoe. You moaned around the digits, fingers digging into his leg hard enough that it would probably bruise.
Every nerve was on fire, the judgemental look in his eye as he peered down at you only stoking the flames. His brow was tightly knit, the little crow's feet at the corners of his eyes more pronounced. You wanted to kiss him.
A sharp whap to your rear made your body jerk and attention snap back. Your hips picked up the pace they'd unwittingly lost and your toes curled.
"Don't you dare get distracted."
It stung, or at least it would tomorrow when the pain wasn't drowned out by your frantic pulse.
"One chance to find release. That's all you get."
You nodded eagerly, humping his shoe like a rabid animal while suckling on his fingers. It burned, every muscle screaming for a rest while your mind urged them on. Your movements grew less controlled and larger, every drag of your hips moving you far enough back that the edge of his sole pushed against your entrance.
With one last nudged from him, you body went taut as release washed over you, the sound of your broken cry around his fingers sounding far away while you rode out your high.
You could barely breathe when he withdrew his fingers, and your body slumped uselessly against his leg as he slowly pulled out his foot from between your legs.
A quiet sigh filled the silence between you.
"I should almost make you lick them clean yourself..." If not for the way you could see the little tent in his trousers, you might have thought him disappointed with your behaviour.
you're used to taking night drives with tao; it's an escape from life for the both of you. this night in particular, however, she asks you a question you don't expect.
wc; 1,275
divider @/cursed-carmine
a/n; reposting my old tao fics per request by @p00pdev1l. if y'all would like to see the three raunchy fics I have for her, all tao x f!reader, let me know!
Night drives outside of the Gokuraku district were the only time you ever witnessed true darkness. You always thought of it as running from light—the white, hot glow of the city bearing down on your neck hairs, your tender scalp beneath millions of strands of hair, roasting your flesh until it tightened and turned into stiff leather, blinding you to where even your tears burned.
All of the lights, you pretended, were like an enormous, sprawling maw that would chase after the taillights of Tao’s truck until you were winding through the mountains and dense forests and wrapped in the deep black of night. It became a different sort of disquiet then, one weighed by everything unknown that you couldn't see—darkness so vast, so lush, so velvety that you felt as though you were being wrapped up tight in it.
If it weren't for the yellowish headlights guiding the way ahead and the glowing cherry of Tao’s cigarette, you probably would've shrank in the dark, contorted into a bent, smaller version of yourself to flee from such an oppressive feeling.
Tonight, Tao took you further than she usually did on these drives. She had a license and seemed to enjoy the occasional freedom these spontaneous excursions brought her, as there was never a goal in mind, never a place either of you wanted to be.
“Lake Ishida won't be busy this time of night,” Tao said, flicking ashes out the half-lowered window. You saw the briefest glint of orange before the wind extinguished it, then glanced at the neon numbering on the dashboard. It was late. “We’ll stop there for a while.”
“Sorry for calling you this late at night, Tao.” You were sorry for the inconvenience, but not for taking up her time. She had picked up her phone after the first ring, so you suspected she wasn't upholding some terribly stringent sleep routine.
Maybe, like you, she just needed to get away from all the lights and the heat and the smoke and the noise, noise, noise. The never-ending, rumbling insides of the Gokuraku District.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you went on, “whenever we take these drives, and you take me home, I can usually just… drop dead and sleep like a log. It’s easier to ignore Mr. Hashimoto’s poker tournaments downstairs.”
Tao puffed on her cigarette once and then twice, saying as she exhaled smoke, head leaned toward the window, “Don't worry about it. I needed to clear my head, anyway.”
“Work troubles?” you supposed, meaning it less as a question and more as a thought spoken aloud. Tao preferred to keep you out of the loop with the sort of work she did, perhaps believing ignorance looked best on you, or perhaps out of some sliver of respect for client confidentiality. “Alma being a handful? Tatsuomi being a loser?”
“As usual,” she agreed.
You laughed gently, hoping it would be an attractive sound to her and not so jarring that it would disturb the placid mood between you both.
Eventually, Tao slowed the truck and pulled off the main road into an empty parking lot with freshly painted lines and manicured foliage surrounding the perimeter. At this time of night, the tarmac looked spacious and oddly lonesome without the usual busyness of moving cars, cyclists, and walking pairs to fill it.
Other parts of Lake Ishida were daubed with faint, amber lights in the distance, whereas this parking lot was devoid of any light source aside from the truck’s headlights, which dimmed and then eventually went out when Tao cut the ignition. The keys rattled when she pocketed them and opened the door, her thick heels striking the pavement with a two-sequence clop.
“You coming?” She waited for you to exit on your side before closing her door and coming around to the front, a new cigarette already slotted between her lips. “I figured this would be a good change of pace. The last few times we've driven around, it's just been in a huge circle around the mountain.”
“Tao, are you okay?” You watched her fluster slightly, struggling to light the cigarette as a sweeping breeze kept snuffing the lighter flame like a breath to candlelight. “Like, actually okay?”
You expected her silence here; it was as good as a shrug or swatting away a bug hovering too close. But, once she finally got the cigarette going with a couple of long drags, a glowing bomb atop a short fuse, she surprised you with a sigh.
“I’m not sure yet,” and then, the orange nub shifted along with her head as she looked over at you, “Are you comfortable with how things are?”
Those words could've been interpreted differently in every single person she asked, meant a million different things, but you settled on where your heart led you in that moment.
“Between us?”
“Yeah.”
You leaned harder against the truck hood, wishing the warmth would still radiate off of it, seep inside your clothes, melt through your skin, and wrap around your bones. One thing you realized during these night explorations with Tao was that the world became a lot colder the further you got from the Gokuraku District, like all the heat in the entire world gathered there, and everywhere else was simply barren and frigid.
“Well?” Tao tried not to sound impatient, but you could tell she was bothered by your inactivity. It was unusual, but it warmed you so much more thoroughly than the cooling truck engine.
“Well, what about you?” you asked, “Are you content with how things are between us, Tao? Is this how you want things to be, forever?”
She was staring ahead now, cigarette rolling through her fingers as she watched the lake stretched out before you. There was no moonlight to illuminate the surface in ethereal silver and pale blue as you would have liked; the water moved gently and swayed, as if sentient.
It was black water with no reachable bottom, swishing in the wind like some sort of stalking, predatory tail. Or, maybe, it was like a bottle of ink, rippling just a little bit each time the nib of a pen pierced into its depths.
“Isn’t it obvious? I don't take these night drives with anyone else,” Tao had finally decided to say. “I don't care if we keep doing this, but I'd like to know what this is to you.”
Tao was closer to you now, facing you with the spread of her long fingertips, stroking the top of your head. Her heels gave her height over you, putting you level with her chin and making your upward gaze through your eyelashes a particularly sweet thing if she could see it.
“I thought it was pretty obvious, too,” you confessed, observing the way the cigarette’s neon smolder hissed quietly before joining the darkness as it was rubbed out on the truck grille and the filter pocketed. “I don't ask anyone else to take me on night drives. I don't want to go with anyone else.”
“Hm, good.”
Tao gripped you behind the head to guide your face up to hers. The press of her plump lips held no uncertainty, no shyness. Her kiss was not decorous, as she knew what she wanted and conveyed that each time your lips touched, blending your tastes, your breaths, glosses, and colorful stains with sticky webs of saliva and petroleum jelly.
Your bodies leaned together, bracing against the truck as you wrapped limbs, nuzzling breasts, and warming one another through friction and clothes to stave off the cold night.
Notes: karasu x fem reader who just so happens to have a bit of an oral fixation...nothing explicit but minors dni please >///<
It only took a single pass of Karasu's gaze across your form for him to know exactly what you needed.
The smile on his lips was ordinary in the way a sunset is, his parting thighs inviting as water in the desert. His chuckle is warm when you drop to your knees and crawl the last bit of the way towards him, one large hand immediately settling atop your head.
His jeans feel familiar rubbing against your cheek, the combination of his scent seeping through the fabric alongside bodyheat making your lashes flutter as safety blankets your heart. A question passes his lips but you don't exactly hear, too wrapped up in pressing your face into his thigh until stars prickle behind your eyes.
There's another chuckle above you and a myriad of flowers bloom between your ribs.
Karasu's touch is gentle enough that the movement feels almost entirely your own when he brings your head up to face him. Or maybe you'd already settled in that comfortable space where your entire being relinquished control to let him care for your wishes and desires.
"There's my sweet girl..."
His thumb tugs at your bottom lip for a moment before he leans down to press a tender kiss first to your lips and then your forehead. You still cling to one of his muscular legs, knowing now wasn't the time to be chasing his lips.
Karasu smiles in that gentle way reserved only for you where his lips barely quirk up but his eyes crinkle oh so fondly. One hand remains cupping your cheek, thumb moving back to rest atop your bottom lip while the other hand strokes your hair.
"Something ya want sweetheart?" The glint in his eyes spell trouble when he croons at your little hum but doesn't take action. Your sweetest pout does nothing to him today, nor does his resolve falter when your doe eyes gaze pleadingly at him. "Use your words and tell me."
There's no point arguing, and despite the frustration at having to verbalise it, the action of speaking it into existence somehow making your desire all the more vulnerable, you oblige.
"..can you help me relax?"
Relief spreads like rings in water when he doesn't make you specify how nor scold your lack of manners. Instead, Karasu pushes his thumb between your willing lips, the pad of his finger settling on your tongue while letting you adjust to the weight.
You, however, waste no time closing your lips and bashfully rubbing your tongue against the digit. Shortly after, Karasu starts moving slowly as well, dragging the pad of his finger back and forth along your tongue in controlled movements.
There's just enough pressure that swallowing becomes almost impossible, and little drops of drool begin to gather at the corners of your mouth. The moment they leave your lips to slide down your chin, Karasu's free hand moves from atop your head, swiping the moisture from your skin and bringing his fingers to his own mouth.
Heat pools in your stomach, but the main focus is how quiet your mind has gone, nothing but the sensation of his fingertips exploring your mouth to occupy your head. You faintly catch the sight of him adjusting the sizable bulge in his trousers, the dark spot staining the fabric indicating that more time has passed than you'd realised.
But Karasu doesn't stop you, doesn't rush you along or coax your willing lips towards where he clearly aches. Instead, he brings your cheek back down to rest atop his eye, stroking your chin while replacing his thumb with two fingers instead.
A soft moan escapes when he carefully brushes against the back of your throat, a soft shudder running through your body. His fingers become covered in saliva within a few thrusts and the glide against your lips become easy once more.
The movement is slow and repetitive, letting you suckle and lap at his fingers as you please, no longer caring to hold back when drool threatens to slip out or your hips try to rut against nothing.
It'd taken long to let yourself give up control at first, but by now it was second nature, knowing it pleased him at least as much as it did you. But letting yourself be unravelled by Karasu had been worth every shy conversation and nervous laughter, your shared space now a place of quiet trust, vulnerability, and safety for you both.
"Mm.. want more.."
Karasu smiled once more, leaning back to part his legs further, the hand on the back of your head constant but obsolete with how eagerly you moved forward to undo his belt.
"Course you do, and my girl gets anythin' she wants."
sukuna ryomen x f!reader, smut with plot, modern au. you run into your ex boyfriend in the pouring rain and end up spending the night as his place. reader has a vagina and is referred to as "girl".
- author's note: title is from i don't like darkness by chase atlantic
- word count: 1.5k
The rain batters hard, and even though your jacket that you have pulled over your head is taking most of the damage right now, you fear it won't last you the night. You duck into the nearest 7-11, luminescent lights reflecting against the floor beacon your savior. Flinging your jacket lightly with the tune of the sliding door, too exhausted to think, to even really look or breathe as you turn in the isle and slam your face into the chest of —
Your ex-boyfriend.
Ah, fuck. Just your luck, isn't it? You think about those TikTok posts that talk about how if you're not meant to see them again, the universe will make sure you don't. You wonder what it means now then, standing face to face with Sukuna, in a turtleneck that seems much warmer than whatever you're wearing, glasses perched a little lower on his nosebridge so he can tell it's really you.
So now you're sat at the only table inside this 7-11, where it's definitely warmer than outside but you can still feel the chill from the window, cupping your hands around an instant ramen cup that smells so salty delicious you could melt. Sukuna slurps his with an easy grace. Everything about him feels refined, so much so that it's almost cold.
But he's been warm with you, before. In the steady stream of early morning light with his body curled around yours, at the kitchen table where he cooks your favorite dish for today's lunch.
"Why are you out so late." It's more of a statement than a question from Sukuna, reminiscent of something like a scolding father.
"You're one to talk. Don't you have breakfast starting at your restaurant in about four hours?"
"I let the kids handle breakfast these days."
Giving control to the rest of his staff. That shocks you. "You—,"
"Yes. On their own."
"Wow." You blink at him. "That's new."
He exhales, weighs the words carefully on his tongue. "You often said you wished we had more time together in the mornings."
"So you thought to do it after we broke up?"
"It was in motion already."
He leans back in a chair that seems much too small for him, one arm along the windowsill, seemingly unaffected by the crisp air that meets the glass, sliding raindrops like tear tracks. His chest expands with each steady breath, the breadth of him so clear — he's a big man, with a kind of distance that sometimes feels hard to cross. He feels cold but his passion burns hot.
(Sometimes, he feels like he might burn everything around him. It's easier to cut someone off than have an honest, heavy discussion that could end in tatters. A clean break is simpler. Too much of him might feel like ignition.
You've never felt that way, though. Hand in calloused hand. You want his honesty, even if it's cruel, even if it's forged in the fire of a past best left dead. Maybe the simmering rage that sits underneath you both makes you twin flames, feelings that collect and encapsulate, that you have to find outlets for before they scorch your entire lives.)
"You look nice." He clears his throat, like the words were begging to be said or it would suffocate him. You don't know when he turned to look at you, but his gaze feels heavy.
You soften. "Yeah, you do too. You always do."
~
His car was just outside the store, something you might've noticed if you hadn't swept your jacket over your head. You try not to think about what that means — how unnecessary it was for him to sit down with you, have instant noodles that he's not even a fan of with you.
Just to spend time with you. Sukuna has always made his ambitions clear, understands sacrifice in order to take. Yet with you, he's terribly muted about it. Wanting the world, to either have it or burn it down entirely, is something he can say loud and proud. He knows he will have it, because he will do whatever it takes or die having attempted it. Having you is wrapped with a kind of uncertainty he feels uncomfortable with. Can't force it, can't decree it. All he can do is hope you choose him.
His place is exactly how you remember it — sterile, more like a showroom apartment than a place a real person lives. The kitchen counter is entirely blank, save for a few gleaming silver and black appliances, and the back-splash the marble extends to is clean of any debris.
You sweep in with remembered steps, too familiar, catching yourself after the fact only to realize — you're standing much too close to him.
You're aware of how big his hands are when they cup your face, but there's a clumsy delicateness to it, like a giant trying to hold a teacup. He dips his head down, kisses you so gently, a windswept thing. With him, you are not your failures. With you, he is not his strength. There are no defenses that need to be met. He meets you where you are, with his entire, unabashed self at the forefront, encourages you to do the same. There's something about that, that feels a little like love.
He's not made for love, every part of him hardened and calloused — his hands as they make their way down your thighs and hoist you up, the scars on his face that you trace as you kiss him over and over. But the effort is there, the hope, the showing up. The wishing and the waiting.
Whisked to the next room, the bed dips underneath you, a graceful act that has you almost wishing he would just be a little… rougher, more himself.
"You don't have to be so careful," you tell him, your lips against his, like parting even a centimeter might cause him pain. He hums in return.
"You're a gentle girl," he says, a gruff whisper against your skin, and you don't know if you would call yourself that, but next to him maybe it seems that way. Soft curves for rough hands that beg to make a home in, he touches you like he's trying to prove something. He relents, a little. His grip a little harder, his teeth starting to show as they slide down your jaw, nipping at your pulse point.
Your clothes are removed ceremoniously, like an unraveling. He undoes the buttons with consideration for the clothing, drapes them on the chair nearby. It's aching — the time, intensified by his gaze, how he cherishes each strip of skin revealed to him with kisses that pepper and mount. He makes time stretch, taffy-sweet, makes his mouth count as he laps his tongue over your nipple, pulls it into his mouth, blows hot and cold air over it until it raises goosebumps up the rest of your body.
Sukuna entertains little. He understands routine and tradition, but it all has to lead to his end goal. What's this, then — him taking his time with you, making it so all you can think about is him, him, him. Maybe that's the point, making it so you can't leave him ever again.
That's the thing about Sukuna, he relishes meals, takes his time to eat and taste. What he does to you is no different. He laps his tongue over you slowly, lets your slick coat the wet muscle, swallows down before going in again. His moan into your cunt is audible, reverberates down his chest, his breath hot, your core hotter. Your slick drips down his chin and it really isn't like him to be messy but somehow he allows it when it comes to you, maybe even relishes in it. Coming over his mouth comes in waves, a tensing before it wracks through you.
He looms over you, backlit by the cold moon, and everything about him is warm. He looks down at you with so much want that it feels tangible.
To want is dangerous. To want is to give up a piece of yourself for another person to hold, and Sukuna's not sure how much of himself he has left. He slides into you. Every part of him you could want, is already yours anyways.
~
It's the morning after when you notice it, on your way out. Your jacket from before the breakup, hanging on the coat tree in the entryway. He never moved it.
"Did you want to bring it back?" He tracks your gaze to it, his spine stiffening.
You smile softly at him. "I'll come back for it later."
credits to summer-oil for talking about restaurant owner sukuna both on their blog and with me, i love and miss them lots
Au where Zandik is an offputting traveling doctor in the early 1900’s who blows into town one morning and moves into the creepy old mansion on the hill and people spread rumors that he keeps jars of organs in his basement and Feofan is a ghost who haunts his home and also constantly complains of the noise when Zandik and his lover are fucking into next week, waving his fist at them to keep it down but ends up joining and it becomes a spooksome
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cw: mdni! fem!reader, period sex, mentions of blood, oral (reader receiving), fingering, mentions of anal, slight overstimulation, Mahito (a cw in itself) | blurbs for most jjk men
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ notes: my requests are open >:3
♡ comments and reblogs appreciated ♡
Toji doesn't have a strong opinion on period sex. He prefers not to get that messy with blood on the bed or couch but he's up to it on the floor or in the shower. He prefers to fuck your ass during that time - just a personal preference but if you crave his cock he gladly bruises your cervix, not caring if you're a whining mess from the hard thrusts. But his go to is anal to not get your blood on his dick.
Gojo hates seeing you in pain and doesn't mind helping you out. He was actually the one who brought it up, offering to finger you because orgasms help with the cramps and as long as you're keeping yourself somewhat clean down there he doesn't mind using his tongue on your clit either. He did however paint a heart on your mound with your blood after you came three times on his fingers.
Geto isn't too much of a fan of period sex but is conflicted because he knows it will help you with the pain. He will gladly use his fingers and also fucks you but prefers to wait with oral until your period is done. He makes sure to have a towel beneath you and goes for slow but deep strokes to get your legs to quiver from how intense it feels.
Nanami doesn't mind if you're on your period - it's only natural, but like Geto he won't give oral during that time. He prefers to finger you or rut into you really slow while in the bathtub. It involves lots of praise of how well you take him, feeling you squeeze around him because the sensation of his cock inside of you is so much more intense during that time. Plus being in the shower or bathtub makes cleaning up so much easier.
Higuruma is not too fazed by period sex and prefers to use his hands on you during that time since he loves just how sensitive you are. He rolls your clit between his fingers before pushing two or three of his long digits into you without further warning. The way you moan for him, his fingers enough to overwhelm you make him so hard he can't wait to sink his cock into your cunt if you let him.
Yuuta was a little disgusted at first but gave it a chance since it's just a little bit of blood. Your sweet face when he sunk his dick into you will never leave his mind now. Your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth falling open. You also felt so much warmer than usual he never wanted to stop rutting into you. He likes it when you're on top and he fucks up into you - not caring at all if the blood ends up on him.
Choso blushed when you suggested it to him. He'd love nothing more but to bury himself between your thighs during your period. He devours your core and relishes the taste of your arousal mixed with blood on his tongue, his fingers digging deep into you to massage your sweet spot delicately. The orgasms help with your pain but he doesn't know when to stop, addicted to having you like this.
Sukuna never cared for a little blood but he won't give you princess treatment either. If you're horny or looking for some pain relief he lets you ride him. Tire yourself out on his lap and don't mind the squelching noises from how his cock fills you up. If you're in too much pain he will help you move your hips, gently guiding you up and down his length. He does hold back on the harder thrusts, knowing you're more sensitive on your period.
Mahito absolutely loves period sex and doesn't mind getting all dirty with your blood. It's so incredibly arousing to him because you're so vulnerable like this and so easy to overstimulate. He doesn't mind lapping at your cunt and making you squirm when he grins at you, half his face covered in blood and slick before giving you a few more orgasms on his fingers and cock. He makes you lick his fingers clean so be careful what you wish for.
Yuuji is such a caring boyfriend, hating to see you in pain and doing everything he can to make it better so of course, if you want him to finger you he will. He was hesitant to fuck you because you whine and whimper a lot but he will make love to you, his thrusts extra gentle and his fingers never leaving your clit to bring you more pleasure. The way you paw at him and whine his name always makes him cum.
Megumi doesn't like period sex but he also doesn't like you whining around so he's willing to use your toys on you. He can get a little mean during those times and makes sure that you're properly exhausted by the time you're done. He loves to hold the wand against your clit while either using his fingers or one of your other toys to massage your sweet spot until all pain is gone and you're no longer so needy.
sometimes i wonder if we have forgotten that sharing creative work is, fundamentally, a bid for human connection. like I'm not posting art or fic for 'engagement' i'm posting it looking for other sickos to play with! i'd be making it anyway for my own gratification because there's something wrong with me, i'm sharing it hoping we can have something wrong with us together <3
