hi, im nervous, but... could you maybe write a blurb about jimmy crystal and ftm reader with some noncon and definitely some teeth action?... thank you so much. your work is phenomenal!
Thank you so very much for your kind words <3 They are so very much appreciated. I hope this here scratches the itch!
TEETH PERVERTS GATHER! 🦷
Show Me Your Teeth
Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal x ftm!Reader
CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+, NonCon, Oral (M Recieving), Face Fucking, Mentions Of Reader Being In Bad Mental Shape, Spitting, Humiliation; Mentions Of Trauma
By now, you'd successfully forgotten just how long the Jimmies had dragged you around from one camp to the next. The indoor swimming pool had been nice, sleeping in soggy holes with ants and other insects crawling through every nook and cranny, not so much. However, you took it in a stride, at least that's what you told yourself to keep that tiny shred of sanity fed somehow. You could feel it flickering like the last little candle on an old windowsill, keeping the light on, but at what cost?
"Focus, lad." The flat of Jimmy's palm slapped against your cheek, not in a particularly hard movement, but enough to make you blink the watery sheen from blurry eyes.
You gagged. Throat closing down and constricting against warm flesh.
"There y'are, good boy, stay with me." Your nostrils flared as Jimmy shoved himself deeper inside your mouth, to the point dark-blonde pubes brushed against chapped lips and got caught in the dry skin.
You felt something on your bottom lip tearing and bursting open as he pulled out again, hips snapping back just as fast as he'd drilled himself across your tongue and into the curved depths of your oesophagus. The faint taste of blood spread in your stretched mouth as the swollen tip of Jimmy's cock sat heavy behind your teeth.
The first few times it happened, you'd thought about just biting it off, to have him bleed out with his dick ripped off, but you never did it. In a twisted and wretched way, Sir Lord Jimmy Crytsal, with his throbbing cock in your mouth, gave you a sense of security in a world where safety was a highly rare good. He fed you, he clothed you, and he used you, and you took it like you took everything else that happened. Deep down, you know that those things didn't just happen but were actively done to you, but you choked the thought as soon as it reemerged from the endless pit of your thinking.
Saliva squelched at the corners of your mouth, thick droplets oozing down to pool at your chin as the man above you stilled, halting suddenly with fingers digging into your scalp as he emptied himself inside of you. His release smeared down the back of your throat, past a twitching epiglottis that tried to save your airways from threatening aspiration. It was an unceremonious cacophony of wet noises, grunting, and the strangely soft sound of fabric shuffling.
"Good boy." The praise hit you right where you didn't want it to reach, making you clench around nothing whether you wanted to or not, and you feared that he knew.
"Keep that mouth open for me, will ya." A thick thumb pulled at the tip of your tongue after he pulled himself out of you, and you didn't dare move as a salty aftertaste came creeping from behind.
With slightly widening eyes, you watched his lips part slightly, just enough to press a hesitant string of spit out and let it be pulled down by its own weight.
"Swallow." Your larynx hitched as you did what you were told, the taste of rot and insanity now coming from the front to hit you right in the face.
Jimmy's hand in your hair dragged your vision up to him, a toothy, foul grin darting down on you, how you cowered beneath him on your knees, legs lightly parted to withstand the need to rub your thighs together.
He did something to you, had rearranged the furniture inside of your head and soiled the cushions with the same decay that festered between strong jaws.
His teeth. Decrepit tombstones stuck into flesh that was doing evil unto the world. You saw them in your dreams increasingly often, how they lapped at you, tearing pieces out of you to gorge on the last remaining parts that kept you together somehow. Your thoughts drifted off again, letting go of the freshly formed memory to instead narrow down on the ache between your legs. You preferred it that way. It made it easier to take.