Requests for Twisted Wonderland + NSFW content + YANDERE CONTENT are open. (Female inserts only) Feel free to request away ✨💖 Master post: http://marilynfuse.tumblr.com/marilynfuse. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE.
Hello friends, today i was introduced to an amazing manga with a REAL YANDERE MALE LEAD! I didn't finish reading it yet, but I will in a few hours. Listen, this manga is THE MANGA for all yandere fans out there.
Let's break down the main character:
First of all HE IS SEX ON LEGS, I REPEAT SEX ON LEGS. Second of all that motherfucker is not just a tiny bit yandere or a hint of a yandere, NO, this man is THE YANDERE. Do you ever crave a Yandere who is CRUEL? DOMINANT? POSSESSIVE TO A TERRIFYING DEGREE? And yet manages to remain sexy and even tender at times? He is your man.
The amount of delicious smut in the manga will make your head spin, literally spin. Heck I am not a fan of male brunettes, and even I got hooked on this mothereffer. His name is Park Chi-gyeong.
Don't waste any more time reading my ramblings, go read the manga and tell me what you think!
Hellooo!! can you recommend your favorite manga or manhwa with yandere ml?
Hello! I have a few in mind
Midnight Secretaty - The male lead isn't a classical yandere until further into the story, where he can no longer tolerate the FL being around other men. I don't want to spoil the story, so let me just say this: The arrogant, mean, and overly confident yandere actually makes an effort to change for the better. A bonus is that he is sexy af.
Prison Love- First of all, he is fucking hot, second of all, he is incapable of love since he is a magician, but once he does fall in love, it becomes an obsession with the FL- which in my book is a 10/10. One of the sexiest yanderes I have ever seen, he does become milder with time, which is not something I personally appreciate. Give it a try, it's a very sexy story.
Classmate - Manhwa. Let's put it this way: romance is not the focus of the story, and yet from his first appearance, it becomes clear that FL is dealing with a Yandere. The story is ongoing, so I will not spoil anything!
Collector's Cage- he is a classical yandere, albeit he has little to no personality other than his obsession. I prefer sadistic men more. If you want a manga with a sexy ML who is literally obsessed with FL from the first few chapters, this manga is for you.
Try Begging - I did not read it YET. Everyone is screaming that this man is a red flag a sadist, a yandere to the core - so yes I am waiting for them to complete it first and then I am going to binge it!
BETRAYAL OF DIGNITY - YANDERE MALE LEAD DONE RIGHT.
Guys please hear me out, we girls love dark yandere themes right, right?? I just finished reading betrayal of dignity manhwa and oh my god, is Damien not the perfect manipulative and possessive yandere? Out of all the manga i read the dude was so smart and twisted that he got the perfect ending he wanted, he broke the mc made her just as madly in love with him as he is with her.
What are his best yandere traits?
-Intellgence - unlike many other yandere male leads, Damien is actually really smart, dude plans ahead religiously, and OBSESSIVELY.
-DETERMINATION - he knows what he wants he always gets it, is manipulative? Yes. Is it cruel? Yes. But is he madly in love with the mc and loyal to an insane degree? Yes.
-Self-confidence- man is SEX ON LEGS, I REPEAT SEX ON LEGS. Nothing hotter than a confident yandere who is always in control and ready to fuck.
-POSSESSIVE/JEALOUS- even when in denial that he is madly in love with the female mc, Damien literally explodes whenever other men even look at her including in the first few chapters when he told her to stay away from his cousin and not attract the attention of other men. Nothing sexier than a possessive man.
-SELF-AWARE- it comes out in later chapters but I love how he simply embraces being consumed by her, he is not angry at her or in denial, he is a man on a mission and her attempts to evade him are useless. Is fine with being mad about her. Heck was even fine with begging for her and dying for her.
Give this manhwa a chance and send me a list of your favorite manga/manhwa with sexy insane yandere leads ❤️
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: It’s your first Christmas with Bakugo and he makes sure it’s memorable.
WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Implied Noncon/Abuse; Minor violence.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 Merry Christmas!
--
There’s a knock on the bathroom door, your name being called less than a moment later.
“One minute!”
Suffocating back the sobs that insist on freeing themselves, your fingers desperately reach to wipe away the warm, sad tears that refuse to stop. You sniff, grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the gross snot that clings to your nose.
Looking in the mirror for a quick check turns out to be a mistake. Deep under eyes circles, runny nose, red puffy eyes - you look awful.
Even more when you compare your ugly crying face with the red and yellow soft cotton Christmas pajamas you’ve been coerced into wearing, the one Bakugo is matching.
Couple pajamas, he had grumbled when giving you the box. Because it’s your first ever Christmas together and he wants it to be memorable. Special.
Special for him yet a nightmare for you.
The last couple days have been hell. Bakugo’s been unbearable to deal with, having taken a week off of the hero duty just so he can spend quality time with you. You fervently wish he hadn’t.
Every moment spent by his side makes you uneasy and anxious, constantly walking on egg-shells as you await for the bomb that Bakugo is to set off.
Truth be told, you don’t want to spend time with him. You simply want nothing to do with him. He has a special way to become abhorrently overwhelming.
Forced to play house with a delusional Pro-Hero isn’t what you want.
You don’t want to wake bunched up in the suffocating embrace of his arms as his thick cock forces itself inside you.
You don’t want to set up the Christmas tree with him, pretending to care every time he asks you where do you want each fucking shiny ornament to be.
You don’t want him to kiss you like you’re his everything - like you’re a happy loving couple that has just assembled their first Christmas tree together.
You don’t want to play the role of a diligent girlfriend that peels off vegetables, sets up the dining table and washes the dishes and yet you do all of these tasks, knowing otherwise you’ll receive nothing but a nasty backhand and a speech on being a ungrateful brat, something that will sour both of your moods for the rest of the day.
You don’t want to-
There’s a harder knock on the door.
“Hey, you died in there or what?”
Tilting your face up, your eyes lock into the ceiling at the same time as you take in a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves. You’re so tired, so fucking exhausted. Can’t even spend five fucking minutes without the asshole hunting you down.
Knowing you have less than 60 seconds till Bakugo gets angry or worried enough to break down the bathroom door, something you’d like to avoid given it’s the only door in the apartment that has a lock, you reluctantly drag your feet to the door.
Bakugo pushes the door forward as soon as you turn the lock open, entering the bathroom as he takes a good look at you, fixing his glare at your red eyes, still moist from your latest crying session.
“What took you so damn long?” his question resembles an accusation, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for whatever proof of an imaginary escape plan or so.
“Nothing, was just washing my hands.” you lie, offering a placating smile. Bakugo nods, although distrust is still evident in his face but if there’s one thing you’ve learned is that suspicion is like a second nature to him.
Perhaps you deserve it but now, after almost 7 months after your last failed escape attempt, you’d think you’d been able to earn some trust.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
His hand reaches for yours, hot and firm as he always is, and you follow his lead as he takes you back to the living room. Confusion rattles your mind and you look up at Bakugo as he makes you settle on the couch by his side.
“Hum…” you hesitate, lips parting as the blonde man lays his heavy arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, “...I thought-”
“Huh?” he doesn’t bother looking at you, busy fumbling with the TV’s remote control. He skips movie after movie till he finally settles at one of the Home Alone movies. A Christmas classic, you think.
“I mean, isn’t it past bedtime?” A glance towards the digital watch on the wall reveals it’s five minutes till bedtime. Surprising and shocking at the same time, as never once did he let you - or him - to stay up till this late. “I thought the curfew was nine thirty?”
“Will you shut up and just watch the damn movie?” he snaps. You seal your lips tight after that, face immediately whipped to the front to stare at the cinematic 34-foot TV although you pay little attention to it.
Awkward silence reigns as you watch the movie.
Nostalgia hits you hard as the movie carries on, your mind wandering through old dusty memories. You as a child, watching this exact movie curled in between your parents, laughing your ass off at the on-screen shenanigans. Simpler and happier times.
A dull pain stabs your heart at the thought of your family. How are they coping with the fact that their daughter went missing so many months ago, not even a single clue to her case.
A part of you wonders how Christmas is going to be celebrated back in your home country, if your mom is planning to leave a sock for you in the fireplace, as she always has or if your dad is finally gonna buy that gift you had not to subtly begged for Christmas all those months ago…
Your nails dig deep into the back of your hand, a microscopic attempt to keep the tears from spilling as your eyes begin to burn. You can’t fucking cry - you reprimand yourself - if you cry, Bakugo is gonna be upset. If Bakugo gets upset, then you’ll have to deal with the consequences. And you don’t want that.
“It’s Christmas.” his deep voice breaks out the silence, so random and unexpected you’re not even sure he said anything. He keeps his face straight forward, locked into the screen, even as you’re under the impression that he’s paying as much attention to the movie as you are.
Bakugo sighs, finally looking at you and you don’t like how his red eyes pierce right through you, leaving you helpless and naked under his gaze. Like he can read every single emotion that boils inside you.
“It’s Christmas.” he repeats, voice softening. “First Christmas together, I mean.”
“Yeah.” you stiffly reply.
“Besides, we gotta wait till midnight so you can open your gifts.” he adds, pointing a finger towards the lit up Christmas tree, where some packages wrapped in red paper lay by its base.
A side of you feels curious about them, but another part warns you that nothing good ever comes with Bakugo. When did he ever give you something that is free of restrictions?
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t have a gift for you.” you explain.
It’s a silly statement, although evident. You spend all day caged in his heavily-secured apartment with no way of leaving, no matter how much you’ve asked for it, and the few online shopping you’re allowed to do is on Bakugo’s laptop with the blonde man hunched over your shoulder, eagle-eyes following every purchase of yours.
Bakugo shrugs off his broad shoulders, seemingly unbothered.
Lacking the strength to further keep up with the pointless conversation you leave it at that. After a few minutes, the film fails to maintain your interest and soon you start drifting into a calm slumber, eyes drowsily slipping closed and barely aware of when Bakugo re-positions you so that your head lays onto the comfortable muscle of his bicep.
Just a small nap, you sleepily think…
“Hey, wake the hell up.”
There’s an annoying tug at your arm.
“Wake up, it’s time.”
“Hm?”
Opening your eyes proves to be a difficult task with your eyelids awfully heavy. You yawn, sleep coating your features.
Bakugo is no longer sitting by your side, but is bent in front of you, occupying all of your vision field.
“It’s Christmas, already.”
That certainly catches your attention, hands pushing against the couch to leverage you into a standing position.
“Oh.”
The clock marks exactly midnight and you stare at it, empty-minded. For a moment, you believe none of this is real, that you’ve imagined everything.
Any moment now, your family is going to start cheering and hugging you, felicitations and merry christmas’s being thrown around while everyone exchanges their gifts.
Instead, reality hits you like a brick thrown to your face in the form of Bakugo’s squeezing hug, your face being pressed against his toned chest.
“C’mon, let’s open your gifts.” he drags you to the tree, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs crossed as he pulls you into his lap, heavy arms immediately caging you in.
“Start with that one.” Bakugo nudges a box with a rectangular shape to your way.
It’s a bit heavy but as soon as your fingers reach for it, you immediately figure out it’s a book.
As you unwrap the paper from the book, Bakugo squirms and pushes you a bit backwards, so your back meets his brawny chest.
The cover of the book shows him - well, Dynamight portrayed in a comic artstyle.
“Dynamight’s Explosive Adventures”
“It’s a comic book. Part of the new merch.” he slowly says. "Hasn't been released yet, and I warned the jerk editor that it can’t be published until my girl gives it her approval.”
You are surprised to learn how much Bakugo cared about your approval and opinion. A pleasant surprise and warmth rises to your cheeks.
“That’s… really sweet.” you comment as Bakugo gives your neck a small peck.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he brushes it off, “Just make sure to read that quickly.”
“Okay.” you almost sing the word out. You hesitate for a moment. “Thanks.”
The atmosphere feels strangely lighter, happier. It’s silly to feel like this when it’s something so small, so insignificant.
Still, you can’t stop the little smile that tugs the corners of your lips as you open the remaining presents: a shiny golden hand bracelet that Katsuki immediately fastens it down your wrist, a lip oil collection that you vaguely remember being on your wishlist.
All of them are just nice presents and you wonder if you were being a bit too dramatic about it earlier.
Reaching for the last one, Bakugo practically throws the small box into your hands, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder, his breathing obnoxiously heavy in your ears but you don’t dare to complain.
His arms tighten around your waist for a moment and you wonder if he’s nervous about this one.
You receive your answer soon enough, heart dropping to your stomach as soon as you open the velvet black box, revealing an elegant ring inside.
A diamond encrusted ring band, to be exact. A engagement ring.
No.
Oh God, please no.
All of your jovial carefree behavior vanishes into thin air as Bakugo takes the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your annular finger and you wince when he pushes it down with a brutish strength until the overly small ring finally sits at the base of your finger.
“Mrs. Katsuki Bakugo.” you can practically hear a satisfied grin behind those words.
That's all it takes for the dam that's inside your eyes to burst into miserable pitiful tears. From behind you, Bakugo growls - all traces of relaxation now gone - replaced by anger as he violently tugs your arm behind, forcing your body to face him.
“No. No fucking tears.” his tone is harsh, and he takes it upon himself to swipe his big thumbs against your cheeks, cleaning up the endless fountain of water that your eyes have become.
Your hands weakly attempt to push him away, never meeting success in putting distance between your bodies as he immediately clutches your wrists.
“I…Bakugo, I don’t want to-”
His lips capture your wobbling ones into a fervent, boiling kiss. His palm is large enough to cover the back of your head, stopping you from pulling away from the kiss. You’re trapped under his powerful strength, as you always have. You’re so stupid for fooling yourself into something that was never the reality.
He kisses you with all of his ravenous, destructive passion until you’re nothing more than a limp body, until all signs of pathetic rebellion have left your body but not your mind. Your throat dries when his burning lips move to suck little spots on the sensitive skin of your neck, too many sharp teeth involved.
Your whole body itching to squirm away from him but somehow you manage to stay as immobile as a statue. You can only cry your eyes out. You’re weak, you’re pathetic, you’re-
“You asked ‘bout my gift, right?” his voice booms in your ear and you yelp as Bakugo pushes you down to the floor, crawling on top of you like the dangerous predator he is. His calloused hands already reaching for your pajama pants.
Are you planning to watch the new TWST anime! I still like the game more but it is quite enjoyable so far! And the boys are beautiful as always
Omg I just watched it on Thursday, it was so good! I love the animation so far but I hope 8 episodes is enough to get us the full story of riddle's chapter!
there, sitting near your bag just minutes before the lecture starts is him —
a knot tightens in your seat. you were so sure that you had left everything behind, left that horrid high school when you graduated and moved away.
— your high school bully.
sprawled across the seat like he owns the place (he could, with daddy's money), he smiles lazily, bored eyes lighting up with that burning glint you've come to hate. the one he wore so proudly when he trailed off after you in hallways, humiliated you, taunted you with his little entourage. and now, he's here to ruin the life you've built for yourself?
his lips part to speak to you.
your feet move before you can register.
the hallway feels like its closing in on you as you run, recklessly bumping into students' shoulders as they make their way to lectures. screw it, you need to get out of here.
rounding a corner, the hallway is empty. a hand presses to your chest. you probably lost h—
a hand latches onto your arm.
with a loud crash, you collide with the floor, the darkness of the janitor's closer enveloping you, the antiseptic scent of cleaning supplies wafting into your nose.
you wince, looking up at the angry eyes of your ex bully.
"i come all this way to see you," he starts, hands closing around your neck, "and you can't even be happy to see'me?. what, acting like you're too good for me now, huh?"
coming all this way? he couldn't have... he couldn't mean that he transferred here for the sake of bullying you. throat tightening, you claw at his hands, "let go of me-!"
he rambles, your words falling on his deaf ears, "you left me, do you know how that felt, hm?" almost lost in a painful memory, his grip tightens. "no, you don't. how could you, when you're out here getting cozy with god knows who. are you that desperate? am i not right here?"
"right here? you made me suffer."
"i've been working on myself." his movements are manic, crazed, especially when he realises the grasp he has on you and loosens it. you slide against the wall, coughing into your arm. he follows the movement, brushing your hair away from your face. "look, everything will be alright,
i'll be right by your side to protect you, trust me, just like all the old days, 'kay?"
it's quite peculiar; your expression is one of horror, scrunched up all cute and yet you stay silent, all that self-confident talk down the drain.
an old bully with a newly developed saviour complex.
You wait for the moment his massive length stops pumping his release in you, threads of cum stretching between your swollen cunt lips and his leaking slit, you push yourself up from your spread position on your tummy, hands clawing at the sheets desperately to get away
The fucking you could handle, it was difficult, definitely taking a toll on your delicate body, but what you weren’t expecting was for him to finish before you, filling you up so much that the hot pool of sperm pushed tightly at your belly from the inside
You’d finally reached an end of the mattress before monstrously large hands grabbed around your waist, tugging you back and forcing a sob from your throat
He gives a soft apology for finishing so quickly and not giving you a proper warning, promising to make it up to you
You beg him to give you a break, pleading for him to use your mouth instead, anything
He denies your offer, insisting that he bring you to climax once more, twice more, a thousand times more
You’re strong, he insists, you can take it
Tengen (Missionary)
Hell, hes used to it, your so goddamn sensitive all the time its not like hes suprised
A chuckle fills your ears as your weak limbs claw away, exhausted but adamant about escaping
He humors you, letting you get at least a couple feet away from him before pouncing on you again
His voice is sickening sweet as he picks you up once more, molding your hips against his in a steep arch that allows him to sink into you, your insides promptly taking shape and milking him for all he's worth
You whine aloud, muttering soft pleas and begs for him to go easy on you, for him to get you off gently rather than ripping them out of you one after the other
He laughs manically
Fat chance
By the time he's done with you, you better be dumb and pliant, begging for him to unload inside you until he's fully satisfied, don't be selfish
Shinobu (Cunnilingus and fingering)
Rolls her eyes as you try to push her way and escape, her lips and fingers only working faster on your twitching pussy in retaliation to your little rebellion
She honestly thinks you're being a tad bit dramatic, don't you think? She's only had her mouth on you for a couple minutes and your already squirming and crying
She pretends to care though, cooing at you to just bear through it a bit longer, you're so close aren't you?
Her lips suck harder at your clit, her fingers digging deeper in your g-spot, stars sparking in your vision
You don't wanna come again, you don't wanna "squirt" or whatever she called it when your juices sprayed out and made a mess last time
Sobs echo through the room as she continues, her tongue swirling over your little bead over and over again, right under the hood where it almost hurts how good it feels
Its a good thing she tied you to bed this time, otherwise you probably would've gotten away since Shinobu probably wasn't strong enough to stop you, but she planned this, schemed this
She moans shamefully loud when you finally drench her face in your sweetness, liquid shooting all over her mouth and neck as your legs shake violently in release, she licks her lips of the delectable nectar
Oh that was so beautiful - again?
Iguro (fingering)
Couldn't give a shit, did you have to be so loud and annoying about it? Just shut up and take it
He does go a little slower though, dragging out the agony that builds in your gut with every fucking second
His fingers are devilishly skilled, each digit curling painfully perfect against your g-spot and creation such a delicious stretch against your walls, but each sensation just built one atop the other, making all of it just that much more unbearable
He doesn't even give you a break, instead holding you down with his legs keeping your thighs spread for his torturous touch
It honestly turns him on how desperately you're trying to escape, though he'd never admit it given he disproved of his own sadistic desires, but if he could he'd want it like this always, you tied down and begging for release of both kinds while he denied you of either
Before you could reach the end, however, he tears his hand away, letting you wallow in the pit of frustration and despair, hell it was probably his fault you were so painfully sensitive since he'd been edging you like this for what felt like several hours now
But god did you look so hot like this, so irresistible, he wondered if you could come from just a breath on your delicate little clit now as he pet along the side of your labia, making your hips jump against his hand for one more second of touch where you needed it the most
After a few moments he returned to the peak of your sex, rubbing softly and relishing your sniffles as he wondered how many more times he should tease you
Mitsuri (Tribbing)
Oh lord she's so sweet
Apologizes for being too much for you and forcing you to have to crawl out from under her just to get a break
Promises she'll be softer, better, and will take care of you like you, her princess, deserves
You sniffle at her kind vow, nodding your head stupidly with what small amount of brain you have left and she giggles
She resumes position, tribbing your cunts together reverse cowgirl while your thighs are pressed out over your sides under the weight of her ass, your juices mix together like a fine wine, flowing down onto the sheets in a dewy puddle that has mitsuri mewling
You can hear the slick sounds the friction makes, her wet sex against yours, her lips sliding against your clit like a carnal whisper, each rock makes you shiver, your climax building up so slowly and torturously you cry
she looks over her shoulder with a gentle expression, a glowing redness spread across her cheeks, admiring the roll of your eyes to the back of your skull as you finally, finally, shatter
Your so cute like this, she thinks, so adorable and precious
She can't help but continue, rolling her hips atop yours to bring out several screams from your shrill throat, she just can't help it
Tomioka (Grasshopper)
Ignores it
He doesn't at all mind when you try to flee from him, as he quickly catches you without any effort at all and brings you back down to bed with him, though he does find it rather inconvenient when he knew you were so, so close to sweet release
It had been quite a while since your last coupling so he was confident this was well needed for you, and he'd be damned if he let your own naive body keep you from satisfaction
He'd pull you back down to his embrace, making sure to securely wrap his arms around your waist this time so you couldn't move an inch, and absolutely go to town, thrusting so hard and fast that you were sure your insides would bruise
None-the-less, you would be forced to take it, unable to break through his strength, each stroke hitting your sweet spot near your cervix with crippling precision
Your sobs rose in volume as your body was forced over each wave of pleasure, rising and rising and rising but not yet allowing you to tumble over even though you so desperately needed to
But Giyu was merciful, taking care of you so viciously and forcing your greedy little cunt to succumb to bliss even as it rebelled against what had to be your strongest climax yet
Only when he'd bottomed out, grounding his base into yours in deep swivel did you finally break, crying with hot tears and clenching at the sheets, your stubborn body screaming as he continued pumping
Did you think he was done?
Rengoku (Cunnilingus)
He finds your attempts absolutely adorable, so amusing, even if they were futile since he'd tied each of your hands to the bedpost and had your ankles and thighs knit together to keep you bent and exposed, his own powerful arms curled around your hips to keep you spread for him to feast on
Pure ecstasy filled him every time you came into his mouth, with the occasional spurt of sweet honey all over his jaw and face when he was being especially eager
But it was only a matter of time before your little pussy would reject the need to finish, being so used to satisfaction that you were kept at a constant of sensitivity and edging
Perhaps it was his fault for making you finish so many times (it was), but he'd be awful if he left you in such a state with no end, even if you begged him over and over to just leave you be and give you rest, he knew you couldn't possibly mean it
He'd make sure to give you attention where you needed it the most, flicking his tongue over your dripping folds, wrapping his lips around your throbbing bead, licking into your convulsing hole
Each sound you make is a gift from god, your pained cries for mercy only edging him on further to lavish your little kitty with attention, she was begging for it
Eventually, after several long whiles of eating you, you start to feel the draws of climax creeping up on you, but this one felt stronger, more pain than pleasure with how horribly sensitive you were, with clenched fists pulling at his locks you begged him to stop, the plea falling on deaf ears, honestly even if he were to listen how would he hear with your thighs squeezing his head?
Pain seared through your veins as your nethers clenched, his tongue never ceasing its vigorous swiping even as you screamed out your demise, juices gushing out of your and staining his face in such a lovely sheen, he licked his lips and yours clean
Sanemi (69)
Its absolutely infuriating that you were being so finicky
Hell, you hadn't even made him come yet and were already trying to ditch? Yah, fuck that
He should've known you'd get all fussy after he'd made you come the first time with his tongue, your own stuttering on his cock before grazing your teeth as your jaw began to lock with the overstimulation
Honestly how was he supposed to react when you tried to crawl off of him to freedom? Was he supposed to beg you to come back? Comfort you and give you a break? Fuck that weak shit, if he needed attention, you were gonna give it to him, and take it
With a strong thigh wrapped over the back of your head to keep your throat impaled on his length and thick hands anchoring your pussy to his face, he was in absolute paradise
He almost laughed when he felt your teeth whisper against his cock again, you no doubt having the urge to bite down as he lathered his tongue all over your cunt over and over again, paying careless and heady attention to your little clit
He rolled his hips on occasion to jostle his dick in your mouth, thoroughly enjoying the way your throat would tighten around him and your bud would twitch between his lips
It was only after you'd finally relaxed on top of him, likely having lost consciousness from the combination of pleasure and lack of oxygen, that he filled your mouth with seed, but even then, why not another round?
Kokushibo (Mating Press)
Upper 3 finds great offense to your lack of gratefulness and pursuit of escape, who were you to deny him?
With a deepening hold, he only pounds into you harder, sending sparks upon sparks of pleasure through your body despite the bruises forming on your abused bodice
His cock slams hard into your cervix, bruising the delicate tissue and bulging out of your stomach in a overwhelming sight, you're comparably smaller frame can't even begin to take it, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the ledge of a release that quite honestly scares you
But each time you beg for him to be more gentle, to stop, to let you go, he only becomes more vicious, unforgiving, cruel
You're lucky, had he cared about you any less he would've broken a limb or two to make you stop struggling, but being the generous man he is, he allows you to continue making a fool of yourself, your weak little hits doing nothing but drive him further off the wall with rage
Your sobs only increase in frequency as you get closer, your eagerness to get free becoming more desperate
Pushing the backs of your knees further into the ground, he quickens his already hellish pace, his pelvis slapping into yours violently and abusing your tender clitoris that, regardless of everything, throbbed for attention
When your pleasure pain finally peaks with a hot rush of juices squirting out to drench his pelvis and thighs, only then does he ease on you (hardly), slowing his pace slightly to ride out the delicious clench of your cunt around his member, your reward being a generous few flicks to your clit, making the hypersensitivity just that much more unbearable
Douma (Thigh job)
He finds grief with your overstimulated cries and grasps for relief, chastising himself for overindulging on such a poor creature as yourself, he apologizes sincerely, hoping he didn’t hurt you too much
Its not your fault, you poor thing, he can hardly handle his own carnal needs himself, and he much less expected you to be able to keep up
Truly he’d thought such a position as this would be easier for you, with the lack of penetration and gentler handling, though perhaps it was a bit much considering how teasing each pass of his shaft was over your sensitive little bundle of nerves
He tries to ease up, he does, but how can he contain himself? Your thighs and pussy feel oh so good wrapped around his swollen cock, the perfect mixture of slick and friction, second to that of your insides of course
So eventually he chooses to ignore your tries of escape, instead opting to coo down at you, comforting you through the waves of pleasure that he knows will soon lead to your orgasm
He can feel how your holes convulses, your clit twitches, your thighs tighten, its nearly painful how hard you're pressed around him, not even a gap of space left between your legs other than the one his cock is occupying
Finally he feels it, your shudder of tension before your body seizes in a tantrum of euphoria, he can see the way your hands grip the sheets, the way your spine quivers, the way your mouth gapes open in scream after scream, hell his followers must think he's murdering someone in here!
He eventually follows suit, cum spraying across your body in thick ropes that he pumps out with each pass of his hips into your spent ones, your body twitches weakly and you whine as he continues to use your oversensitive folds
Who can blame him? You feel so good!
Akaza (Spider-man)
He laughs manically seeing you trying to escape, your weak little body looking so pitiful between his powerful thighs
Honestly it was a miracle you'd lasted this long with him, but he found satisfaction in the fact that the pleasure he'd brought you was so overwhelming that your stupid little brain thought it'd be a good idea to flee from a god such as himself
He'd had half a mind to let you and watch you run away with so much cum running down your legs that you'd likely slip in it, stupid thing
But he'd trashed that idea when he'd heard your cries rise, more tears and saliva pooling down your face, he wanted to hear what your voice sounded like when you came again, what your face looked like, what your cunt felt like
He thrust into you faster, trailing a hand from where it was hugging your thigh to his chest down to where your little clit lie
He brushed over it quickly, relishing your shrill cries of grief and despair as your nerves lit on fire, more laughter filling your ears
It wasn't long before you finally snapped, your pussy chocking around him and spewing hot liquid across his thighs, it was bliss feeling you milk him and hearing your broken voice scream so loud his ear drums nearly burst in time with his seed that flooded your insides
Yes, he rather enjoyed this, perhaps he should let you escape next time and see how that plays out as well
I wish you would write something about General Lilia😭❤️🩹
That's a tough one, General Lilia has so much potential.
On one hand he could be a seriously twisted man who would catch darling trespassing and simply lock her up for his amusement and pleasure. Of course he will fall in love with her but you have to keep in mind his hatred for humans, the process would definitely be bumpy. It could be an intense love-hate attitude with yandere coating!
But then again General Lilia could also have a 180° when he simply sees Darling for the very first time. All his hatred towards this human will dissipate and he will become her protector and of course captor but without the love-hate attitude, instead getting a love-utterly smitten attitude. He could go against the Queen herself, damn he could even abandon Briar Valley all for the purpose of spending his life with Darling.
Both versions are good but it's the first one that's definitely far spicier.
A/N: so uhhh… y’all remember my Red Dress one shot? Well, here’s the continuation of that, except now, it’s Shinjuro’s turn.
There is nothing redeemable about this. It’s pure smut.
CW: MDNI • 7.2k • explicit sexual content below • cucking • breeding • creampie • Kyojuro sets his fiance up tbh but she’s into it • just nasty filth • doggy • rough rug sex • desk sex •
Senjuro ended up departing for a neighbor’s after dinner, and the Rengoku patriarch retired to bed not long after. Though the two of you should have been well on your way home, Kyojuro had gotten distracted.
“I thought of you all through dinner,” his breath is hot against your ear. One hand flips up the skirt of your sundress as the other fumbles with his belt. “How you sat there, talking to my father and brother while my seed leaked out of you.”
“Kyojuro — oh —“ you’re cut off by his bruising, rough kiss. You break away only with a sharp gasp as your fiance’s practiced fingers drag over the lacy seam of your underwear, your hips bucking into his touch. His mouth only slopes messily down your neck. Kyojuro growls into your skin in approval at the wetness he finds between your legs — a mixture of his cum and your renewed arousal.
“You drive me wild,” the leather around his hips gives way, and his fingers are nimble as they unfasten the top button of his pants.
You can’t hide the way your mouth runs dry, or how your thighs unconsciously press together as Kyojuro pulls his stiffened cock free. A thrill flutters in your stomach at the thought of getting on your knees before him and offering your mouth for his use. That excitement is doubled at the prospect of being inside your future father-in-law’s study, a place you wouldn’t have dared to venture had Kyojuro not led you here by the hand.
But that arousal grinds to a sharp halt when Kyojuro’s fingers curl under the edge of your underwear and yank them down your legs. A quick rustle of fabric indicates he’s shoved them into the pocket of his loosened pants, for safe-keeping.
Kyojuro gives himself a firm pump before lining himself up with your entrance.
“This is — Kyo — your father’s study —“
“I’m aware.” With one mighty thrust of his hips, he forces himself to the hilt inside you. “Keep quiet, my Flame.”
Once he’s confirmed that your hand is braced steadily behind you on the rich mahogany of his father’s desk, Kyojuro pulls back, his fingers deftly pushing the straps of your sundress from your shoulders. He tugs the bodice down to your waist and your breasts pebble at the sudden exposure to the warm air of the home office.
Kyojuro hums at the sight of the marks he’d left behind; the way the light from the fire dances across your exposed skin.
He begins with shallow thrusts that grow deeper, more forceful with every passing moment. Before long, you’re forced to smother your whimpers against the thick curve of his shoulder, your fingers curling under the edge of the desk as it rocks and creaks with his movements.
“Fuck, my love,” Kyojuro groans into your hair. “God, you feel too fucking good to stop.”
He must be desperate, you decide, given the way he steadily lets his weight fall into you until you’re forced back against the flat surface of the desk. If you weren’t too busy muffling your sounds of pleasure by burying your teeth into your bottom lip, you would’ve smiled. Kyojuro was so adorable when he was like this; when he gave into his more base desires to rut fast and deep.
Your fiance quiets his own euphoria by sealing his mouth against your throat. His moans rumble across your skin, chased by alternating flicks of his tongue nips of his teeth His hands grip you firmly by your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you to him as he pushes faster and deeper into you.
A floorboard nearby creaks, but neither of you notice; you’re too enraptured in one another, your body already thrumming with a need for more that hot, saltiness you can’t help but crave that you know Kyojuro won’t be able to resist giving you.
Thank goodness for the card of neat little pills waiting on your nightstand at home; though you’d likely be pushing your luck, you’re optimistic that your fiancé will give you his fill and still get you back in time for you to take your birth control.
Kyojuro tears his mouth away from your neck and straightens, his nails digging into your hips as he jerks you to meet his bruising thrusts.
“What do you think, Father?” Kyojuro’s jovial tone makes you freeze and the sweat which has begun to cling to your skin turns cold. “Is the view better than you imagined?”
Instantly you jolt up, clinging to Kyojuro’s massive frame in an effort to keep yourself concealed.
A dismissive scoff sounds from a distant corner of the study. “It certainly isn’t worse.”
Dread curdles in your stomach as Kyojuro’s father steps out of the shadows. His face is hard and severe, even as he draws closer to the fireplace adjacent to his desk, the light of the flames offering no warmth.
You begin to squirm against Kyojuro, who is bewilderingly still buried snugly inside your warmth. Your anxious little taps against his chest, his shoulders, however, do nothing to spur him into action, no matter how you urge him away.
“Now, now, my Flame,” your fiancé tuts, quelling your protests with a warning thrust, shallow, but firm enough to cease your squirming. “You cannot deny you’ve been tempting him.”
Across the richly manicured office, the elder Rengoku’s eyes burn in silent agreement.
“In fact, I seem to recall you mentioning how fuckable you thought he still was.”
Your mouth falls open in horror. Not only was it an exaggeration of what you’d actually said (he could still get it, don’t you think?), but you’d said it to tease Kyojuro. In private.
“And I think we both know this little dress of yours was intentional. You know how we love red.”
Shane burns in your cheeks. You did. You’d worn the red sundress to bait your fiancé, but you’d also done it knowing the significance of the color red in the Rengoku family. And while your comment about the fuckability of the family’s patriarch had mostly been lighthearted, some part of you had always been curious.
Perhaps Kyojuro was right; maybe you’d been enticing the senior Rengoku just as much as you had his son.
But there’s a faint tinge of jealousy in Kyojuro’s tone that has your heart thumping madly against your sternum. It’s the kind he rarely showed even when you were openly flirted with in front of him, whether the two of you were out on a romantic dinner or simply running errands together. A sort of dominance that only ever manifested when Kyojuro perceived a threat — a person whose eyes lingered too long, or when someone simply got too close for comfort.
It is that possessive anger which shows now that his competition is his own father. Perhaps he is hoping the elder will be exactly that — an old man, limited in his age and unable to satisfy you the way Kyojuro knows how. Though, from your blushing once-over of Shinjuro’s form where he waits across the study, you quietly think perhaps Kyojuro has underestimated his father. While he may indulge in his stash of fine alcohol too often, Shinjuro remains agile as ever, his body, strong.
Your curiosity flames, lashing at you until it can no longer be ignored. For every way Kyojuro’s personality contrasted heavily with his father’s, you could not help but wonder whether that opposition continued in other areas. Namely, the way Kyojuro’s switch flipped the second you got him alone, riled up and heated was in diametric opposition to his ordinarily warm and sweet disposition.
Because, no matter how gentle and kind and warm Kyojuro was, rile him up enough and he turned into a downright fiend when left alone with you.
Shinjuro, in contrast, was anything but sunny and cheerful. At best, he was a crass old man with a habit of letting alcohol loosen his already too loose tongue. Assuming consistency was a variable in play, perhaps that meant he would be softer; more gentle.
Despite your embarrassment at having been discovered, you cannot deny your own longing.
Kyojuro grinds once more into you before withdrawing from your heat entirely. You wince at the loss of his warmth, fingers clawing at air to bring him back, to cover you with the safety of his body once more, but he only steps aside.
“If you’re gonna fuck in my house, little girl, then you’re gonna have to abide by my rules.” Shinjuro’s voice carries that deadly sort of authority you’d only ever heard him assert when dealing with business, and it’s severe enough that you find your spine straightening in answer. “And I believe in sharing.”
Your mouth falls open as though you have any basis to protest when you’ve been caught red-handed, but Shinjuro cuts you off.
“That’s my rule from now on.” He looks to his son. “You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use. That includes your brother, once he’s an adult. Don’t like it? keep it in your fuckin’ pants.”
Shinjuro’s attention slides back to you, and a sharp flutter shoots through the pit of your stomach at the leering desire in his eyes. “And I don’t care if you’re here visiting with your future kids. I’ll fuck you once they’re asleep.“
Any cautious optimism you had that Shinjuro might embrace the softer side of intimacy flew right out the delicately arched window of his study.
And yet, your curiosity lingers.
Hesitantly, you lower your eyes and see the rigid bulge straining against the seat of his pants. It looks almost identical to Kyojuro’s, but from your quick assessment, it seems his father boasts a greater thickness.
The thought of how that thickness might feel, buried inside your makes, makes your mouth go dry.
Warm, gentle fingers catch your chin. “Only if you want to.”
It is a whisper only meant for you to hear, and suddenly, some of your anxiety eases. You know, by the burning sincerity in his eyes, that if this truly was beyond your realm of comfort, Kyojuro would cut it off without you needing to even utter your safe word.
With a light gulp, you nod, the movement almost as imperceptible as Kyojuro’s eyes become unreadable. But he says nothing more; instead, Kyojuro merely steps away, leaving no barrier between you and his father. Predator and prey.
Self-consciousness has your arm jumping to lock itself over your chest, a futile attempt to conceal what has already been exposed.
Shinjuro stalks silently across the rug, drawing short of where you’re still spread atop the edge of his desk. The shadows dancing along the walls of his study do not conceal the way his tongue flicks out from between his lips, moistening them, the longer he stares between your parted thighs. You clench around nothing under the heat of Shinjuro’s gaze, and his eyes narrow like he knows.
Some of that burning desire tempers as Shinjuro’s eyes flick to your face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
The abruptness of the question catches you off guard, and you’re shaking your head before you remember to demand why he’s asking in the first place.
Shinjuro’s eyes harden. “You’ve had the nerve to fuck this girl under my roof and you still haven’t knocked her up?” He scoffs, turning his attention back to his son. “I impregnated your mother the first time I brought her here. Have you no shame?”
A quiet anger simmers in Kyojuro’s eyes. “She’s on birth control.”
“No fuckin’ excuse,” Shinjuro pushes past his eldest, his eyes locked between your thighs, still spread wide. “The Rengoku family is known for its virility. You’ve embarrassed that legacy. Go sit down.”
Wordlessly, Kyojuro backs away, his anger burning hotly on his face. He crosses to one of the great, stuffed leather armchairs to the side of the hearth where the fire roars and settles in, his eyes bright.
Shinjuro turns his ire back to you. “You see that ring on your finger? The one paid for with our family’s money?” And your eyes drop to the beautiful engagement ring sitting on your left hand, placed there by Kyojuro. “That’s not just a gift, sweetheart. Deal was you get the ring and you give this family your womb.”
Some fiery, rebellious part of you balks at that, overtakes your own common senses. “The wedding is still a few months away.”
“You think that fuckin’ matters? That ring means you’re part of this family, little girl. And being in this family means pulling your weight.”
He reaches for you then, and it takes a concentrated amount of effort to not flinch away from him, no matter how wetness pools between your legs.
Shinjuro’s fingers curl around your forearm, tugging it away to expose your breasts.
“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. With an alarming swiftness, the tension in your limbs eases, your body turning pliant and supple under his touch, confident and knowing. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections quickly choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.
He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk and all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”
Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”
He fondles you once more, pulling a small whimper from you that makes him smirk. Shinjuro eyes one of the hickeys near the top of your nipple, left behind by Kyojuro’s earlier attentions and with a faint sneer, he flicks it.
You gasp and arch into him, goosebumps skittering along your skin and you quietly present yourself for more. The way he continues to palm you — rolling each breast in his hand, testing its weight — leaves you with the distinct impression that you’re little more than some prized brooding mare and he, your inspector. That feeling is only amplified when Shinjuro suddenly grabs your hips and forces you back against his desk, maneuvering your body in different positions to see how you bend.
“Arches her back nicely,” he remarks casually, as though discussing something as tepid as the weather. “Feels flexible, too. But none of that means shit if she’s not fertile.”
Shinjuro steps back, his hands planted on his hips, expectant. “Let’s see what we’re working with, girl. On the floor,” When you don’t move, too frozen atop the desk and uncertain of what he’s asking, he nods at the rug. “Go on — present yourself for me. Need to inspect the goods.”
With shaking legs, you lower yourself off the desk. Cheeks flushed with heat, you cast one last, anxious glance at your fiancé. Kyojuro, however, says nothing, his eyes boring into yours as he waits.
You’re doing this; you’re actually doing this. You are willingly lowering yourself to the great, ornate rug sprawled across the floor of the study, knees first, and then your hands, followed by your forearms.
Your heart hammers away at your chest as you wait, ass held high in the air, your cunt on open display. A soft thump of a body lowering itself behind you is followed by rough fingers that spread your ass cheeks, forcing your thighs to shift and widen. The faintest tickle of warm breath fans over your heated, drooling center, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out in desperation.
“Pretty little pussy,” Shinjuro hums with faint appreciation. Two, thick fingers swipe harshly through your dampened folds, spreading your wetness from your clit to your entrance. “Glad he at least knows how to get you warmed up. You’re fucking soaked.”
His fingers circle your opening, pressing against it just enough to make you squirm into the rug, but not enough to alleviate the nearly painful way your cunt continues to flutter and clench around nothing.
“How does she take it — oh,” you can hear Shinjuro’s leering smirk as he slips his finger inside your fluttering entrance. “Sucked me right in. Least she knows what to do when she’s got somethin’ in her.”
He pumps another finger lazily into you as you moan your encouragement. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?” Shinjuro’s voice is faintly hoarse as he addresses his son.
There’s a pause that seems to stretch on for an eternity. “Sweeter.” Comes Kyojuro’s answer, strained, though you cannot see his face from where his father has crowded you into the rug. “Father —“
“I ain’t gonna taste her.” Shinjuro brushes off your fiancé’s warning, flippant. “Don’t need to. She’s ready for a good breeding, I can tell just by the smell of her.” A sharp slap of a hand against your sex pulls a yelp from you, and yet you can’t stop from wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. “But you have failed your duty in bringing about the next generation of our family. You both have.”
There’s a rustle of clothing behind you followed by the distinct click of a belt buckle. “So I’m correcting it.”
Shinjuro’s fingers find your clit again, his quiet signal that he is addressing you even though he turns your brain to mush beneath his expert touch. “Looks like I’ve gotta show my boy how to properly breed a woman, since he’s yet to put his brat in you.”
Your stomach clenches. If not for Shinjuro’s leg wedged thickly between yours, keeping you spread for him, you would’ve pressed your thighs together in anticipation.
Shinjuro shifts behind you, pushing his pants down past his knees. Your curiosity is too great to resist, and slyly, you throw a glance over your shoulder, eager to see if your predictions about the Rengoku patriarch’s endowments ring true.
Before you can confirm, a rough, demanding hand ensares itself in your hair. With a hard shove, Shinjuro forces your head down, deepening the arch in your back. Behind you, Kyojuro makes some faint noise of discontent at his father’s roughness with you, but he does not interfere.
“I can only assume it’s ‘cause he’s not fuckin’ you properly. That’s what happens when you spread your legs for boys. They don’t know what you need.” He lines his tip up with your entrance. “Need a man to fuck you right.”
With a single, deep thrust, Kyojuro’s father bottoms out inside you.
He does not bother to give you time to adjust to him; he’s moving before you manage to choke out a small sound of surprise, one that’s lost to the fierce smacking of skin meeting skin.
“You need to— fuck — her — like — this —“ Shinjuro grinds out, each word punctuated with a sharp slap of his pelvis against your rear. The fat of your ass jiggles with every lurid thrust, and the elder Rengoku’s balls — heavy and full of cum that you know he’s going to insist on unloading inside you — smacks against your clit in time with his movements.
A responsive moan vaguely registers to your right, and with great effort, you turn your head toward the sound, eyes squinting through the stray strands of hair that have fallen over your face.
You spy Kyojuro, seated in the great leather armchair by the study’s fireplace. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright as he watches where his father appears and disappears into your body. In his hand is his cock. Its tip matches the color of his lips, parted as he pants against the languid pumps of his fist.
Shinjuro must catch sight of his son too, and it only spurs him to move faster; harder. “You like looking at her while she gets fucked, don’t you?”
You crane your neck further to watch for your fiancé’s answer, but a pointed slam of Shinjuro’s cock deep into your warmth forces your eyes back into your head. The stretch from him is incredible and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, even with Kyojuro; a burning fullness that is almost as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.
Kyojuro must nod, for his father only scoffs in dismissal.
“Yeah, I see why. She’s a pretty fuckin’ thing, isn’t she?” A harsh slap of his hand against your ass nearly sends you jolting forward. “Bet you treat her like a little princess; too delicate to handle a good pounding.”
If you weren’t so fixated on the way your breasts scrape against the coarse rug beneath you in a dizzying blend of pain-tinged pleasure, you might have laughed. Kyojuro was an adventurous lover, and a considerate one at that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to pin you down and fuck you when you wanted him to. Though, even Kyojuro’s roughest moments did not compare to the way his father now brutally fucked you into the floor of his study, his cock fat and heavy; as hard as steel.
Unlike Kyojuro, there is nothing loving about this; no tenderness. Shinjuro’s movements are nothing more than pure domination. He is not demanding your submission; he is forcing it.
The conversation between father and son is accompanied by a score of wet, sticky slaps of Shinjuro’s hips against your ass and the tiny little oh! oh! ohs! that you whimper into the rug. You soon find it impossible to fix your gaze on anything other than the diamond sitting delicately on your left ring finger; the way it glints and shines in the firelight as your fiancé’s father fucks you harder into the floor.
“That’s where you’ve gone wrong, boy. Fertile little things like this don’t want to romanced.” One broad, rough hand snaked up your spine to grip the nape of your neck, pushing your head down hard into the rug. “They want to be used.”
Shinjuro laughs, a harsh, jeering sound. “Just wanna be fucked stupid, isn’t that right?” His fingers tighten around your neck, commanding your attention despite the way he’s fucking your brain numb. “You just want someone to pump a baby into you. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”
The skin of your kneecaps burn from the way they scrape against the rug under your future in-law’s unyielding pace, and it’s because of that stinging pain that you’re able to ground yourself enough to manage a single, jerky nod of your head.
“Tch. Then why are you on birth control?” Shinjuro growls between vicious, forceful thrusts, his pelvis slapping hard against your backside. “You holding out on this family?”
Shinjuro draws nearly all the way out before he slams back into you, the blunt head of his cock bullying right up against your sweet spot. A slew of profanities pour from your mouth into the rug below, and your toes curl violently as he shifts his hips forward and keeps himself pressed right against it, stilling his movements.
You want to howl; he’s pushed right against the most sensitive part inside your body, one that Kyojuro knows will have you making a mess of both yourself and him after only a few grazes. And yet, his father, the bastard that he is, has the head of his cock jammed right against it, with seemingly no inclination of moving anytime soon.
Nor does he seem to care how you writhe and whimper into his rug, either. Your legs vibrate against the floor, and your hips move of their own volition, desperate for relief, but Shinjuro’s hold on your neck strengthens.
It’s torture and he must know it. “Answer me.”
“Not ready!” You gasp, your hands balling into fists against the carpet, your nails biting into your palms as the throbbing deep in your cunt becomes nearly excruciating. “We said — ngh — we said we weren’t ready yet!”
You cry out at the sting of a hand smacking hard at your ass. “You’re marrying into an old family, sweetheart.” Shinjuro spanks you again, and tears spring into your eyes. Yet, despite the pain, you only throw your hips back, desperate for more. “Money ain’t a concern. Your job is to birth the next generation of Rengokus.”
Despite his admonition, Shinjuro resumes his movements, easing back into his previous pace as though he hadn’t paused to start. You nearly cry out in relief, your hips circling and grinding against him for more, just more.
“Doesn’t matter, now. Don’t worry, you pretty little thing. You’ll be begging me to put a son in you soon enough. But until then —“ a rough, bruising hand snakes its way into your hair, balling it between his fingers. Shinjuro jerks hard on your head before he mashes it into the rug below, your cheek chafing against the rough carpet. “I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you. My son needs to be taught a lesson.”
Your eyes strain to seek out your fiance once more. Kyojuro’s blush has deepened to a fierce crimson, though his eyes darken at the way his father shoves you down into the floor.
Kyojuro is a passionate lover; while he can and does fuck you hard, he always keeps well behind the line between rough sex and cruelty. His father, it seems, toes that boundary far more closely. You can tell this bothers your beloved fiance by the hard set of his jaw and the wait his teeth grit together.
And yet, as the noises pouring from your mouth out of you slide from high-pitched, breathy whimpers to deep, sultry moans, and the study fills with pointed wet schlicking sound as the Rengoku patriarch continues fucking you without mercy, Kyojuro does not interject.
His hand only tightens around his cock; the tempo of his movements, only growing in speed.
Shinjuro’s grip on your neck loosens before his hand pulls back to rejoin the other at your hips. A low whistle blows past his lips. “If only you could see the way she’s creamin’ all over me, Kyojuro — filthy thing loves being used.”
He grunts appreciatively as he jerks you back to meet his rapid movements. “Does she always make this mess on you?”
A deep, rumbling groan is Kyojuro’s only answer, and his father chuckles.
“I figured. Look at her, suckin’ me in like this. Practically beggin’ me to fuck a child into her.”
A sharp smack cuts through the air like a knife, the skin of your ass stinging as Shinjuro cocks his hand back and spanks you again. Harder and harder he rides you, and the bruising ache blooming between your thighs is one you know you’ll feel for days.
Shinjuro’s next thrust is forceful enough that it lays him nearly flat against your back, his chest heavy and hot, dampened with sweat. The coarse hair covering his sternum scrapes at your shoulders as the elder Rengoku tightens his hold on your hips.
“You picked a ripe one, Kyojuro, I’ll give you that. Pretty little cunt like this was meant to be filled.” A hand winds under you, and Shinjuro’s palm presses flat against your lower belly. “With hips like this, she was made to give this family more sons.”
“Pussy is even better pregnant.” Shinjuro declares to no one in particular, his whiskey-tinged breath hot against your ear. “All the hormones and shit. Makes things tighter. Wetter.” You twitch violently into him as his thumb glides harshly over your clit. “More sensitive too. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
“You want her pregnant, don’t you, Kyojuro?” And before his son can answer, Shinjuro snorts. “Yeah, you do. Bet you’ve even beat off to the image of it — her all fat and swollen with a kid, tits leaking, pussy sweeter than wine. I know I would.”
Beads of sweat roll down the thick planes of Shinjuro’s chest and abdomen, staining your back. Each jolt of his body into yours produces a wet thwap that joins the lewd squelching your cunt as it gushes around his cock, as his body suctions to yours.
Teeth, sharp and brutal, nip harshly at your neck. “I like to think I’ve spoiled my boys, Y/N.” Your future in-law growls lowly in your ear. “They may not agree. But they didn’t want for nothin’. And I still like to indulge ‘em, every now and again.”
Shinjuro’s rough hand reaches under you to palm at your tits. “You love being a big brother, don’t you, Kyojuro? How about I put a new baby brother in your fiancé’s womb for ya? How’s that for a gift?”
You clench hard, your stomach nearly convulsing at how tightly you grip onto the thick cock bullying relentlessly into you right as Kyojuro looses a great, cracked moan.
“What my boy wants, he gets.” Shinjuro sounds so casual as he peels himself off you, straightening back up on his knees. One hand moves to press down on your lower back, deepening the arch of your spine until your ass returns to its position high in the air.
His grip on your hips tightens with bruising force as he resumes jerking you back to meet his movements. “You ready to beg yet, sweetheart? You gonna let me breed this tight little cunt? Give your fiancé a new brother to spoil?”
You hardly recognize any of the sounds pouring out of you, unable to concentrate on anything but the way the ache in your groin deepens, your desperate need to be filled becoming damn near painful.
Behind you, Shinjuro chuffs through gritted teeth. “Yeah, you’d like that, huh? You’d love walking around, plump and round with your father-in-law’s bastard, wouldn’t ya? It’d be your dirty little secret.”
There’s a frenzy to his movements now, the more Shinjuro becomes lost in his own fantasy. His balls slap harshly against your clit, the coarse thicket of his hair scraping against your raw flesh as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. “Everyone would see you and my boy together and think such lovely things; a new family starting out. No one would know — no one would guess that you were pregnant because of how much you like bending over for your fiancé’s old man to let him breed you like the sow you are.”
The image of it — of you, attending some fancy gala with Kyojuro, happy and glowing while his father’s baby grows steadily in your stomach — has you throwing your hips back, circling and grinding with a desperation that makes your fiancé’s father laugh, harsh and bitter.
The sound only makes you clench harder around him. God, you need it; him, of all fucking people.
Shinjuro.
“Please, please, please —!” The request rolls freely off your tongue before you can think the better of it. Across the room, Kyojuro cries out, as wanton and desperate as you.
“Please,” Shinjuro mocks. “Please what?”
“A baby — give me a baby, please! Oh please please —“
“You want to give me another son, huh? Fucking mine isn’t enough for you?”
“Yes!” You sob, the skin of your cheek burning where it mashes against the rug, but you’re far too gone to care. “A son, please, oh please put a son in me! I want to be good, let me be good —“
You’ll do it, you’ll give the Rengoku family as many heirs as they need to know your worth; to know that Kyojuro made the right choice when he got down on one knee and presented you with a ring worth more than your own salary.
“Bout damn time you see things our way,” Shinjuro growls, and he shifts forward, planting one foot by your knee. “I’ll stuff you full.”
He bends over you again, his chest forcing your back to flatten, and you nearly drool at the coarse prickle of chest hair where it rubs between your shoulders.
The scent of woodsmoke and fine whisky clouds your head. “Tell me, do you think my son will still fuck you even while you’re carrying his brother?” Shinjuro’s eyes dart to where Kyojuro sits, his head thrown back and thighs spread wide as he pumps himself, a deep, drawn-out moan rumbling in his chest.
Shinjuro conceals his grin against the side of your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I think he will. Your pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet to resist, isn’t that right, Kyojuro?”
“Yes.” Comes Kyojuro’s single reply, little more than a strained groan.
It’s too much; the obvious need in your fiancé’s voice coupled with the way his father so ruthlessly pumps into you, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly as he hammers away all the right spots forces your eyes back into your head, your fingers clawing at the rug chafing your skin raw. The pressure in your stomach mounts until you feel almost ready to burst, every inch of you trembling as you wait for that familiar coil to spring.
Shinjuro swears lowly, once, sensing just how close you are to breaking apart, before he recovers.
“Just think, boy.” He calls out to his son, his voice boastful despite how he clenches his jaw. “Once her milk comes in, we won’t have to take turns having a taste. All we gotta do is sit her between us and each take a tit. Fun little father-son bonding. Whaddya say?”
Your eyes fly open. The image of it — of you straddled between the two Rengokus, both mouthing hotly at your swollen, aching breasts while your stomach sits round and full with a child that might have been fathered by one as much as the other — is your undoing.
Somewhere in the depths of the Rengoku ancestral estate, Kyojuro’s brother sleeps. You can only hope that his slumber remains peaceful, given the loud, cracked scream that rips free from you, burning your throat as your climax slams into you like a freight.
The coil in your stomach does not unwind; it explodes, blows apart in a mess of shrapnel capped with prolonged cry as your walls squeeze around your lover’s father’s thick, demanding cock.
“Oh fuck, she’s good,” Shinjuro throws his head back, eyes rolling into his head at the way your cunt seizes around him like a vice. “Harder, Y/N. Your father in law wants you to cum fuckin’ harder.”
One hand unlatches itself from its bruising grip at your hip, curling under you. Shinjuro pinches your clit firmly between the roughened pads of his fingers and your stomach seizes. A violent spasm of hot, searing pleasure rips sharply through your groin, sparking gush of sticky fluid to spring forth and coat the rug below.
“Daddy!” You cry out, too fucked out of your mind to fully register what has escaped your mouth; the slip you’ve made.
Daddy is reserved for Kyojuro — and under specific circumstances. Only after you’d been your most difficult, your most rotten, such that Kyojuro knew you were baiting him, waiting for him to pin you down and give you exactly what you wanted and set you right. Only after you were looking up at him through glassy eyes, so unbelievably fucked out of your head did the word Daddy ever leave your lips.
In a way, you suppose those conditions were present here. After all, it was your fiance who suggested you’d pranced around the Rengoku ancestral estate in your red dress to frustrate both him and his father. And Shinjuro is, in fact, fucking you halfway to hell and back, your brain having nearly liquified in your skull.
So really, he can’t fault you for getting your wires crossed.
Kyojuro moans back in response, and that single sound — a ragged, pleasure-delirious thing — only makes you clamp down harder around his father’s thick cock.
“Yeah,” Shinjuro snorts, his laugh dark and cruel. “Yeah, I’m your fuckin’ daddy, aren’t I?”
You continue to howl for him until your voice gives out, quieting down in time with the slow ebbing of your climax, your body turning limp limb by limb. When the last of your orgasm echoes through you, you nearly collapse prostrate into the rug. You would have, if not for the bruising grip of hands latched firmly to your hips, keeping you in place.
You’re only permitted to relax for a moment before Shinjuro decides it’s time for him to make good on his oath to fuck a son into you.
A single, long draw of his hips nearly pulls his cock free of your sopping heat. But before that can happen, Shinjuro’s fingers dig into the fleshy part above your waist and without warning, he slams back into you, hard and brutal.
Air wheezes out of your lungs and you’re forced out of your post-orgasm haze, yanked right from the clouds of bliss and dropped back in the study as he repeats the movement once, twice.
You scramble to find purchase, your arm flailing out before you as you scramble to find purchase. Before you can, however, one rough, callused hand wraps firmly around your bicep, holding you down against the floor. The other snakes to your wrist and wrenches that arm behind your back, pinning it in place at the bottom of your spine.
And Shinjuro fucks you. Hard. Even more so than before.
You’re utterly at his mercy; little more than a toy, bouncing between his body and the floor of his sprawling study as Shinjuro chases his release. Your legs will be rubbed raw with friction, both from the rug beneath your knees and your hamstrings where Shinjuro’s thighs press firmly into yours, his hair as coarse and wild as what grows from his head.
Behind you, the elder Rengoku’s breaths have turned ragged.
“Hold her — fuck — hold her down like this when you cum.”
Whereas Kyojuro’s climaxes are always accompanied by loud, strangled groans, euphoric and lilting, Shinjuro comes with a deep, snarling grunt. With a final, bruising thrust, fiancés father-bottoms out inside you. His hips shove heavily into yours, pushing hard against your ass as he presses his cock as deep as possible. The force of it bends your spine, making Shinjuro distribute half his weight between his hips and his arms where he holds you down. He comes as powerfully as he’d claimed you, his orgasm every bit as punishing and relentless as the rest of him.
Your eyes roll back into your head at the first spurt of his cum, your mouth falling open. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, trickling down your cheek and dampening the fibers of the rug.
Deep; your father-in-law’s cock is so fucking deep in you, his cum hot and thick as it coats your womb. Distantly, you hear the pleasured cry of Kyojuro as he reaches his own climax, his seed spilling hot and fast over his fist as he watches his father unload himself inside you.
“Feel me pulsing, doll?” Shinjuro grits through clenched teeth. “That’s me puttin’ our next heir in you.”
The only response you can manage is a faint moan. It takes a moment for you to feel it; the tell-tale gush of cum that always leaks out of you after you’ve been filled, tangible proof of how thoroughly you’d been claimed. And it strikes you that the delay is the result of how deep inside of you Shinjuro had been when he came.
Deeper, you silently concede, albeit begrudgingly, than Kyojuro has ever reached.
But then it comes; a thick trickle of hot fluid spilling over where your bodies are connected, Shinjuro’s balls twitching against your throbbing clit as he continues to unload himself inside you. Dizzy with the pleasure of feeling his cum, so warm and viscous, you cant your hips back into his, mewling your gratitude.
Full; you’re so very full of your father-in-law’s cock and cum. So very sated.
There’s a triumphant exhale behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know Shinjuro wears that self-satisfied smirk of his, the one he always had whenever he successfully trounced his son in front of an audience. His hand releases its crushing grip on the wrist he’d pinned behind your back in favor of rubbing your ass where it circles against his base, though whether it’s out of appreciation for you or a further brag to his son, you can’t say.
The elder Rengoku holds himself in place for a moment longer, ensuring every last drop of his seed is properly deposited into your waiting womb. Only when he’s satisfied nothing remains, does he pull out, not bothering to give you any warning as your body spasms and winces at the loss of his warmth.
The air at your back turns cool, no longer invaded by his lumbering body. A chill snakes down your spine at the sudden draftiness of the study as the sweat glistening along your back and staining your dress cools. Some of your awareness — and your contempt — returns to you as the spell cast over you by Shinjuro dissipates. You focus on each muscle of your body, identifying what you’re still able to love as you prepare to push yourself up from the floor, when two, broad hands latch around your waist.
Shinjuro cares not for your small whimpers and whines as he forces you to turn around on your raw knees, not letting you rest until your rear faces Kyojuro.
“There, that’s a properly bred pussy,” Shinjuro announces with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against your swollen, dripping folds. “Take a look, son.”
A derisive snort shoves its way through your nose. Of course, it isn’t enough for Shinjuro to have fucked his son’s fiance right in front of him; now he has to show off his work.
But do you resist? Of course not, nor does Kyojuro protest, panting as he comes down from his own high where he sits near the fireplace.
“See that?” Two rough fingers catch a thick bead of Shinjuro’s cum as it slides down your inner thigh. “You want a baby? Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Fingers or your cock, it doesn’t matter — just make sure it stays inside.”
You focus on calming your own breathing, relief settling into your bones as Shinjuro pulls his hand away at last.
A moment passes, undisturbed except for the labor of your mutual breathing, when Shinjuro breaks the silence once more.
“But I’m gonna let you fuck my seed back into her.”
And with that, he leaves you crumpled helplessly on the floor, departing only with a sharp smack to your ass, still held high in the air.
He motions for Kyojuro to move and confounding, his son complies, half-jumping out of the leather armchair in his haste, his pants around his knees. Wordlessly, Shinjuro settles into his seat, one arm folded behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand wraps around his drooling cock, still hard and shiny with the combination of your cum and his.
“Go on, boy,” the elder Rengoku juts his chin to where you lay limp on the floor, your red dress pulled down bunched around your waist. He gives himself a firm pump with his fist and his mouth settles into a leering smirk. “Show me what you’ve learned.”
Anyways, scummy fuckin’ Shinjuro slapping a hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming,” Don’t want my son to hear his best friend getting stuffed full by his father, do ya? Pipe down, bitch.” He grunts as his other hand pushed your knee closer to your chest, his cock stretching out your tight pussy that just kept pulling him in deeper and deeper. You didn’t know what to do with your hands other than clutch the quilt under you for dear life, tears springing to your eyes as he pulled back and slammed his hips back into yours— you couldn’t help but cry out every time he did that.
He’d hush you harshly, thick brows knitted together as he muffled his own groan. “Fuck, it’s a miracle my son hasn’t fucked you yet—“ Shinjuro chuckled, languidly rolling his hips,” Unless he has? God you’re a slut, aren’t you? Fucking Kyojuro and now his father— such a good little whore though, aren’t you?”
