Roco Rambles

In my 20s | A place where I can write out all my feels. My inbox is a safe place for everyone and everything | Mix of SFW, NSFW, and Dark Content | Minors DNI with my dark content and NSFW content

[rocorambles]

Masterlist

Note: For all NSFW pieces, characters are always aged up to their timeskip ages or their third-year 18+ ages.

Haikyuu

Aoba Johsai

Fukurodani

Itachiyama

Inarizaki

Johzenji

Karasuno

Misc.

Nekoma

Nohebi

Shiratorizawa

Kinktober 2020

Poor Kitty Cat

April Fool’s 2021

Spooky Season 2021

Jujutsu Kaisen

Tokyo Revengers

My Hero Academia

[sylxst]

bully! sylus and bully! caleb make you squirt during lecture

tags: dubcon, fingering, public foreplay, forced squirting, petnames very brief mention of daddy, sylus + caleb are ragebaiting besties,

“Saved us a seat eh? How nice of you pipsqueak."

Sylus and Caleb unceremoniously enter lecture hall. They stalk down the row heading straight to you. They invade your space with a certain level of ease at the back of the hall where attendance is sparse. It's the last three rows occupied by the people who will disappear like they were never there before the semester is over. No one pays any attention to Sylus or Caleb as they make themselves at home beside you, removing your personal items to retire them to the floor.

Sylus on your left, Caleb on your right. Their knees widen to manspread over you, pushing your legs together with their knees.

“Wasn’t saving them for you..” You mumble as a weak offense fidgeting.

Caleb leans forward with an ear pointed in your direction like you're a kid that said a very nasty word.

“What was that?”

He spares you a look with it too, one that tells you nothing you say would make a difference. So you say nothing.

Like a hit of static, you jolt when fingers graze your calf muscle. It’s Sylus hiking up the tiny desk to have it rest above your thighs.

“Class is about to start soon kitten, get your stuff out” He suggests with one of his I know what you are smiles, “You didn’t do so great last exam remember?”

The worst part of it all is that you're all alone in your poor performance. You saw their grades. Exam 2 from last week came out to be a 98% and 99% for them. They compared their answers, they argued, they gloated. Then they hounded you for your score and wouldn't take no for an answer. Sylus took your computer and Caleb typed in your password as if he thought about it himself. All that to reveal a whopping 69%. And yes they made sure to tease you with every joke they could think of.

“Bet you’re blaming us for that aren’t you?” Caleb says, unzipping your bag. He fishes out your tablet, “If it weren’t for these two dummies I’d be straight A student.”

He mocks your voice at a completely different octave on purpose to rile you up. To make sylus laugh because it’ll just further piss you off.

"I think she's smarter than that" Sylus defends, and something in your chest flutters as a silent betrayal. “She knows we had nothing to do with it. If we did, the numbers might’ve been flipped.”

Assholes. Both of them. You bite your frown as you avoid their line of sight.

"Poor thing" You hear sylus coo as he studies the irritation deeply settled on your mouth. They both stare into your eyes that look ahead to watch the Professor set up his computer.

Sylus comes close, lays a thick meaty arm along the back of your seat like you’re his. You're instantly consumed by the crisp scent of leather, the kind of scent that hints a good looking man is nearby.

No one notices the way he gets really close to where you retreat by leaning the other way. Towards Caleb.

"Lucky for you, you have the two top performing students at your disposal" he promises and his smile is so kind it startles you, "S no need to look so pouty, you'll get wrinkles."

"You leave us with no choice” Caleb adds with a shrug, “You’re GPA's gonna tank without our help."

His knee knocks into yours, "Man pipsqueak..where would you be without us?"

A thousand of responses that you’d never say generate in your brain. Something about if it wasn't for caleb constantly distracting you, you'd be able to take notes. Maybe you would've made a friend or two instead of sylus scaring everyone off.

You definitely would no longer dread entering the lecture hall or start sweating the moment you sit down, waiting for the chaos to arrive.

The room lights up with the neutral color of the professor's slideshow. Big and small black font spell out on the massive projector in front and on the two side screens. The professor’s voice fills the room and he's the type of lecturer that never idles. He goes straight into the lesson after a basic greeting.

"Good afternoon. Is everyone alright? Yes? Good. Let's continue where we left off…"

At the same time you feel another touch on the side of your kneecap. It's Caleb tracing a knuckle in a straight line over the side of your thigh. Instantly, you regret wearing a skirt today.

“Interesting choice of outfit today pips” He comments and it’s dry. His cheek lays in his hand that’s propped up, “you notice that too right Sylus?”

“I’m not blind” He responds like a deep purr. “She has a great body”

You swallow at that, the emphasis and the implications of it. He makes you sound like a meal, and you’re tensing up below your skirt.

“Why wouldn’t she want to show that off?” He questions

You decide to distract yourself with your tablet, downloading the slideshow as they blatantly talk about you. You try to make yourself feel like a real student despite everyone around you doing the opposite.

Caleb’s touch doesn’t depart from your knee, in fact it rises, but you’re only glad they're not messing with your tablet like last class. Caleb trying to get into your hidden photos, Sylus creeping through your search history.

“But during the winter though? Nah" Caleb counters and Sylus hums like he makes a good point, " Pips gonna catch a cold.”

You sharply inhale through your nose when you feel his knuckle expand to a full hand, big and warm smoothing over the fat of your thigh. He coasts over you like a new car, shifting your skirt with the graze of his fingers. You know he catches the way your muscle firms when you squeeze.

Somehow they’ve found a new way to amp up their antics, and to your horror it works effortlessly.

You grip your pen and write down a word from the presentation. Just a single word, and you attempt to direct your brain to the concept as Sylus's voice drops into dangerous territory.

“Maybe we should keep her warm then”

By the middle of class your pencil is down and your tablet is asleep.

You’ve long abandoned the intellectual journey of electromagnetism. The professor and the rest of the class leave you stranded while you feel as though you're slipping back and forth from reality.

It's hard to remember that you're still in a lecture hall and there's people around. That the hall is quiet except for the professor. You can even hear the rumble of someone's stomach in the near distance.

And yet caleb whispers, and it's a mockery of a inquisitive tone.

“Hey Sylus.." He asks slowly, "What’s that noise?”

You’ve got an elbow on the side desk to bury your mouth into your palm. It helps to stifle the sounds they pull out of you with every flex of their thick fingers rubbing deeply inside your pussy.

Sylus whispers back to Caleb at your left,

“Not sure..” He goes just as taunting, and you feel the long stretch of his middle finger. It curls like it's sweet to press deep. The ice silver of his ring kisses your hole smeared in your arousal that they use to their advantage. The same ring that costs the amount as your tuition without aid, rubs your slit at his finger settles in. Your cunt drools exactly how your mouth does in your palm.

Sylus’s voice is a low hum, “Sounds familiar though doesn't it?”

He thinks aloud, and the two grin like they exchange words telepathically.

There’s another timid squelch..! as they push, “It kinda sounds like somethin' really wet" Caleb ponders,

The girl sitting in the row ahead, three seats down glances over. Her face reflects her doubt, surely she didn't hear that right?

Sylus and Caleb don't stop (why would they?). They ride out your frightful squeeze inside that pulls them in like quicksand, and don't say anything until her head turns back to her game. You feel them quiver with internal laughter as you try to recover from the humiliation.

"Huh. I wonder what could that be?" Sylus whispers

Caleb hums like he’s stumped too, and you want to tell the both of them to shut the fuck up but you don't.

“You hear that too, right pips?” Caleb asks you

Duh and you’re dizzy about it. It’s absolutely ridiculous how full you feel with just two fingers. Two different sizes and heat, but they're both so big and too good to you. Sylus and Caleb move in perfect tandem that you can hardly believe it. Knuckles sticky with your juices brush against each other as they fondle the feel of you dripping in their hands. It's like they just so happen to know what buttons to push, where and how to find them as they slide along where you're most sensitive. Because of that you’re body is more than willing to give them what they want even if your mind isn't. They both softly inhale as your tight gummy walls clutch around them, pressing their fingers together.

You try to keep it quiet by shutting your thighs. You shake your head as your final answer. You hear nothing but the rattle of your heart as it lubs quickly in your chest. They stifle their laughter again but fail poorly.

“Really?” Sylus sings in a melodic voice, and by the bass in his vocal cords it sounds hollow. In your peripheral you can see his crooked smile like the thought of sin, “You sure?”

His grin grows wider and more smug. He moves his finger faster than the slow aching drag they both settled on. He pumps into you earnestly, like he would if he was fucking you. It purposefully makes the noise from your cunt louder. You twitch inside again and again and squeal into your hand biting the fat of your palm.

“Don’t start lying now” Caleb murmurs lowly, honest advice and a threat wrapped in one. Alongside sylus, he's shameless and you tremble. Your thighs collapse to spread like a whore. There's another disgusting squelch! that dribbles out “Nah no way..you know exactly what that is” He says with a slow convincing nod

You shake your head in admittance, despite how it burns your face iron hot to acknowledge this highly unnecessary fact to point out. In a way it’s your last desperate attempt to get them to slow down before someone hears and says something. You want to go back to the way they were carving your insides to memory. It was their strange way of playing nice.

“You do?” Sylus says like he's mildly impressed. He's still not done with this stupid interrogation. His breath fans over the side of your face like a thirst, “That’s good. As punishment for lying, why don't tell you us? We're very curious."

You swallow, your pride keeps your lips shut. The words you know but god you can’t say it. The girl on a crossword game would hear, and saying it aloud is so stupid within a space meant for learning and not whatever this is.

It's too much and they know it, you feel them move your skirt way up. Chills roll over down your spine as cooler air kisses the mess between your thighs.

“Pipsqueak..” Caleb voice sends another sharp current to your stomach, his voice and his finger is scolding, precise and mean against your sweet spot, “Tell us what’s making all that noise.”

“It’s-” You shut your mouth and briefly inhale another moan less quiet as Sylus follows after Caleb, when one pushes in the other pulls back. Sylus even flexes his hand, the side of his thumb putting emphasis on your clit instead of the subtle teasing.

“It’s what pips?” Caleb presses, “We can't hear you”

He frowns as if you're the one way out of line. And Sylus looks so elated, eyes shining dangerously.

The embarrassment of it all makes your lips tremble like you’ll cry. They know it well and little do you know that’s one of the things about you that gets them off. You're so small compared to them, you just can't help but be so cute, so stubborn and angry. Even so, you always end up giving in.

Your head raises a little to whisper so low they hang off every word,

“It’s my pussy..”

Caleb's lips fall apart while Sylus softly inhales like you touched his cock.

“Oh is that right?” He whispers, your face further stings from the condescending tone layered in their voices,

“It’s this slutty little cunt actin’ up again huh?” Caleb bites to your ear, “Makes sense. You're leaving a mess everywhere tsk tsk..”

Sylus chuckles, “I wonder why though.. I thought you hated us kitten" He muses, "But it looks like you really” his fingers stroke your pussy with every word, “really like us. Am I right?"

You nod and it’s easier this time. There's no hesitation because despite the anxiety of getting caught (again), you really need this. They pull deep levels of pleasure from your core you’ve never experienced, even with your own toys and a dorm to yourself. All with just their fingers and you squeeze at the thought of their cocks.

But then they slow down, one after the other. They hold you right on the edge and your body settles out of relief and utter disappointment.

Sylus spares you bright eyes with an even brighter grin. He whispers against you, shaky as if he’s somehow connected to your leaking pussy, “I’ll play with your clit if you beg nicely for me.”

Caleb snorts, watching your thighs where you clench bashfully against their fingers , “Please..” you whisper and Sylus shakes his head.

“You know what I like kitten” He gives you an unimpressed look, “Say it for me.”

You find yourself rocking at their torturous speed. You try again, wiggling, and his eyes are fiery when you mewl, “Please daddy..”

You’re horrified when the two look mildly taken aback as if you suddenly spoke another language. But both of them duck their heads down as they contain a hard laugh.

Snickering, Sylus slides achingly slow out of your hole, and smears the wetness from your pussy over your clit, “Daddy huh?.. I wanted you to say my name kitten, but I guess that works too."

"B-but-"

“Knew you were a dirty girl and you just keeep provin' me right.” Caleb cuts you off, "What about me? What's my name?"

Sylus fingers twirls a point under the hood of your clit for extra incentive. He and caleb force it out of you incredibly easily, "C-caleb.." You whine, you hear hear him curse under his breathe , " 'leb-"

“Yeah that’s it” He murmurs as your hips buck into their hands. Sylus hums like you said something profound. Your eyes momentarily shut as Caleb slows to slide in another finger.

"Fuck you're gettin even wetter baby" He whispers lowly, it's rushed and the ghost of a lustful groan, "God you feel so good.”

You can't help but nod in agreement, head bowing, eyes shutting. It’s too much especially with sylus twirling over your clit, just like the way you would when you need to get off really bad. You don't have the will power to make it stop. Instead your hand holds his wrist, completely dwarfed by the utter size of him. There's something deep and strange that's emerging, and they’re the cause of it you know it. Sylus playing with your pussy and caleb fucking his fingers into you. They're both dragging something that shouldn't come out. Not here at least.

Your blood runs ice cold then searing hot from it. “wait..s..stop” your lips covered in drool, you whisper without squealing.

“What’s wrong this time?” Caleb sighs slightly vexed, staring into your face with a bone straight expression, “Don’t say you’re not enjoying this, my fingers are getting all pruny because of you”

You miss the way that girl on the crossword game flinches and goes to text her friends.

"Something's gonna c-come out" You try to say and it takes them a moment before Sylus goes, "Oh"

It triggers something inside the both of them. Makes them more eager and even more relentless. You’re completely helpless between them.

“Don’t hold back kitten” Sylus assures you again, “Make a mess for us.”

“Do it already..” Caleb murmurs at your other ear, eyes narrow, dark with possession, “Come on..make your pussy squirt in your seat”

“I can’t-please ” You writhe under his seedy gaze, and sylus who whispers your praise.

“Yes you can"

They grab your thighs to keep them spread wide before you sealed them shut. Fingernails digging into your skin persistent as they pull where you legs try to flee from them. Their persistence is enough to make you break and it comes all at once and hard.

You can barely brace yourself at the peak and caleb slides his fingers out just as a water clear wave bursts from your pussy and slides over the curve of the seat, leaving a glistening trail that drips.

“Fuck yeah..” Caleb rubs against your hole before sliding in again. Your lips form to say the words no and stop but you can’t trust yourself to keep quiet enough.

“Just a little more sweetie” Sylus says, his fingers still toying with your clit, the overstimulation makes you shake your head again no no but he shushes you softly, “Trust us, you can handle it. Besides..class isn’t quite over yet.”

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

please consider leaving a comment, sending in an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[girlfromflor]

i've been looking for a jjk abo/omegaverse au for so long, i can't believe that i finally found it. and it's a masterpiece, like???? i love it, give me 14 of them!!!!

[cathgotyourtongue]

Iwa-chan at work

[villain-hotline]

like you hate me

tw: dubcon, cnc, manhandling, slapping, choking, hair pulling, size kink, smut, nasty nasty stuff, creampie? MDNI

men who touch you like they love you. they are soft and kind with every move they make. because, well, they do love you. you are their life, their treasure, their only girl.

men who smile softly when you show them your new outfit or nails, or something you made for them. who adore you and all that you do. you're practically an angel to him.

men who caress the side of your face ever so softly. who gaze lovingly into your eyes. who, in public, kiss you with such love and care that you'd swear you were made of glass.

men who hold out their hand for you to take when you're crossing the street, descending the staircases, or just when there are too many people around. he has to protect you, to keep you safe because you're such a sweetheart.

men who gently run their hand over your hair, tucking loose strands behind your ear. who gently kiss the top of your head. who hug you with their whole body. who just love you so much <3

are the same men who fuck you like they hate you.

men who are mean and rough with every move they make on the bed. because well, he does love you so much that the only way he could express it sexually is to be a little mean. maybe it's the cuteness aggression. maybe he's just a sick fuck.

men who have a gross grin as he looks down at you. your pretty face against the pillow, drool spilling from your swollen lips and your fingers gripping the sheets. he can't help but snap his hips faster into you. he can't help but go rougher, your body can take it right?

men who slap the side of your face so hard you have tears brimming on your eyes, but your pussy squeezes him equally as hard. men who squish the sides of your cheeks and force you to pucker your lips out so he can kiss you. he loves forcing your mouth open with his and slipping his tongue inside. at this point he's practically fucking your mouth with his tongue. a strong hand behind your head so you can't move away from him. his heavy body crushing yours. <3

men who use the same hand he offers you to cross the street, to flip you over on your tummy and fuck you silly. who easily switches positions with you like it's no one's business. who wraps his fingers around your neck and smiles sweetly as he pushes into you. causing you to cream around him.

men who grip your hair and pull it when you try to hide your face or move away. men who press their bodies on top of yours, forcing you to stay in place as he enjoys you.

men who, if he never treated you so kindly in public, would assume he hates you with the way he fucks you in private.

spoiler - he loves you to death !!!! never doubt his loyalty <3

boyfriends (your faves <3)

bnha: deku, aizawa, shindo, tamaki?, hawks, shoto, monoma.

lads: CALEB, sylus.

bllk: REO ! Hiori, barou, oliver?, kaiser <3, BUNNY.

hxh: chrollo!!!!!

jjk: nanami, GETO, HIGURUMA.

dc: nightwing, vigilante,

hq: kuroo, oikawa, Iwazumi, osamu.

tokyo rev: taiju, ran, Chifuya, MIKEY, mitsuya.

ikemen: JIN GRANDET, LEON, Chevalier, VICTOR, ellis.

[dollgxtz]

Word Count: 500 words

Tags: bully!caleb x student reader, bullying, forced blowjob, noncon, mentions of baby trapping

AN: Wrote this as a little warmup to get back into writing!! Enjoy :3

♥︎ ݁ 𓏲 Thinking of bully!Caleb whose made you start to dread the final bell. It doesn’t matter how quiet you try to stay, how quickly you pack your books, or how carefully you plan your escape—Caleb always finds you. It’s like he knows every route you might take, every second you linger, every weak point in your armor. And he takes full advantage of it.

He’s made a game of it. Pulling your hair when you’re distracted in class, tossing barbed jokes your way when the teacher’s back is turned. He flicks the tip of your ear with a pencil, calls you names he knows get under your skin, and smiles as he enjoys every flinch. He corners you after school in stairwells or classrooms with broken locks—places no one checks anymore. And every time, you freeze. You don’t fight back. You don’t know how.

You tell yourself to stand up to him, to push past the knot in your throat and say something that will make him stop—but the words never come. They die on your tongue, choked out by the fear that coils in your chest every time you see his face.

So when the last bell rings, your body moves on instinct. You rush from your last class, head down, weaving through the crowd like prey trying not to be noticed. Your locker door swings open, your hands fumbling with your books, shoving everything into your bag with a speed that borders on panic.

You slam the locker shut—and jump back.

He’s there.

Leaning against the locker beside yours, silent, smug, like he’s been waiting all day for this. His arms are crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the faint bruises and scrapes that make him look even more dangerous. He raises an eyebrow slowly, his mouth curling into a grin that makes your stomach turn.

“Hi Caleb...” you manage, voice tight. “Excuse me.”

You try to slide past him, but he steps in your path, his body blocking your way with calculated ease. His size is overwhelming up close—he’s tall, broad, every inch of him designed to intimidate. The hallway lights flicker above, and for a second, all you can hear is your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“Not so fast, squirt,” he says, leaning in just enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You’re not goin home just yet. I’ve got somethin to show you.”

You try to twist away, your hand tightening around the strap of your backpack. “N-no, I have to go home. My Grandma—”

Before you can finish, he grabs your arm. His hand clamps down like a vice, the pressure sharp enough to make your breath hitch. You try to pull away, but he tightens his grip, dragging you a step backward down the hallway.

“Don’t start with the excuses,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. You can practically imagine the eye roll. “You know how this goes.”

You yelp, pain shooting through your arm, but no one’s around to hear it. The hallway is deserted now—classrooms emptied, teachers vanished, the whole building caught in that eerie quiet that settles just after school ends.

You glance around, hoping for someone, anyone, to round the corner. But there’s nothing. Just flickering lights and the soft creak of old floor tiles under your feet.

Caleb leans closer, his face inches from yours. “Shh. Be a good girl,” he says, mockingly gentle, like you’re a pet that needs taming. “It’ll be easier that way.”

You swallow hard. The fear in your gut coils tighter, knotting itself into something that steals your breath. You have no idea where he’s taking you—only that it won’t be good. That whatever line he hasn’t crossed yet, he’s getting close now.

You scan the hallway with wide eyes, desperate for an escape, a teacher, a janitor, anyone. But it’s empty. Just peeling paint, humming lights, and Caleb’s grip like steel around your arm. He doesn’t even look at you as he drags you along—just stares straight ahead, like this is routine. Like you’re not even resisting.

You try to speak, to stall, plead, scream—but your voice dies in your throat. Panic fogs your thoughts. Your mind scrambles for a plan, but it’s all static. He turns sharply and yanks open the door to an old classroom—one of the forgotten ones, locked most days, never used. You recognize the broken light above the door, the smell of mildew seeping from the cracks.

The room is silent. Desks are overturned or stacked haphazardly against the walls. Dust hangs in the air like smoke, catching the pale sunlight bleeding through the blinds. You try to plant your feet, try to pull back—but before you can even protest, he shoves you.

You stumble. Your arms flail for balance, but there's nothing to catch. Your breath catches as the floor rushes up—you brace for the sting, the sharp shock of tile against your knees, your palms, your face.

But it never comes.

The air around you bends. You feel it shift before your eyes do—the edges of the room blur, warping like heat waves on pavement. Your fall slows instantly, then stops. You hover, weightless, just inches above the ground. There’s no wind, no sound…just a strange, pulsing pressure pressing in from every side.

Gravitational waves.

Your heart jolts in your chest, skips a beat, then races twice as fast. You can’t breathe right. The air feels thin, like it’s being sucked out of the room. You gasp once, twice, but your lungs won’t fill.

His Evol.

You’ve seen flashes of it before…the subtle warps in space when he’s angry, the momentary shifts in gravity around his desk. But this is different. This is intentional. It’s focused on you.

Your limbs float helplessly, disconnected from the ground. You’re like a puppet caught in a glitch, like gravity has forgotten how to hold you. The pressure clamps around your torso, your spine, behind your knees. You try to move, to scream, to fight it—but you can’t.

Behind you, the door clicks shut. You don’t need to look to know he’s locked it. You hear the bolt slide into place, solid and final. The sound echoes in the silence, louder than it should be. A chill runs down your neck.

Then: laughter. A low, rumbling chuckle. It fills the space like smoke, curling around your thoughts. Caleb steps into your field of vision. His arms hang relaxed at his sides. His head tilts slightly, eyes scanning you from head to toe like he’s inspecting something he just built. Or trapped.

"Why do you look so scared? I saved you, didn’t I? Where’s my thank you?" he says, his voice dripping with mock sympathy, like your terror is amusing to him. You barely register the words before the invisible force suspending you vanishes all at once.

You yelp as gravity slams back into your body. You hit the floor with a soft thud that still knocks the wind from your lungs. Pain shoots through your knees and elbows as they take the brunt of the impact. You groan, dazed, and try to catch your breath, hands trembling as they press against the cold, grimy tile.

Slowly, you raise your head—and meet his eyes. Those eyes.

His violet gaze is impossible to ignore, impossibly striking. You've always noticed how they glow slightly under harsh fluorescent lighting, otherworldly and sharp like cut amethyst. Devastatingly beautiful. It's cruel, you think—not just him, but the fact that someone like him gets to walk around with a face like that. That beauty and menace could exist in the same person, in the same look that leaves your chest hollow.

You don't answer him. You can't. Every part of you screams to stay still, to not make this worse. Silence feels safer than whatever would come out of your mouth.

He watches you for a beat longer, then exhales, irritated. The sound is theatrical. Like he's tired of playing a game only he enjoys. "You make this so boring, pips," he mutters, almost like he's scolding a stubborn pet. Then his hand lunges forward and grips your hair without warning.

You gasp, crying out as his fingers twist deep into your roots. He yanks you up with a force that sends sparks of pain through your scalp and down your spine. The world tilts. Your legs scramble to find footing as he hauls you upward like you weigh nothing. Your eyes water. Your breath stutters.

"Well, if you're not gonna talk, we'd better put that mouth to good use hm?"

You watch in horror as he forces you to your knees, the rough ground biting into your skin. He positions you directly in front of him, your eyes level with his crotch. With a cruel smirk, he begins to undo his belt, the metal clinking ominously. He unzips his pants, the sound of the zipper descending like a countdown to something terrible. You thrash in his hold, trying to free yourself, but he only yanks your hair harder, the pain sharp and searing, making your eyes water.

A tear slips down your cheek, a silent plea for mercy that goes unanswered. You clench your jaw tightly, refusing to let him use your mouth, but he doesn't seem to care. His erection springs free from his pants, thick and veiny, hard and throbbing with a pulse that makes something ache in your core. He begins to rub the tip against your tight-lipped mouth, the sensation repulsive and humiliating.

"Open wide, or I'll make you," he teases, his voice a low, threatening rumble. You shake your head defiantly, but he reaches down with his free hand and pinches your nose, cutting off your air supply. You struggle, your lungs burning as you lose air by the second.

No...no!

Your chest tightens, the panic rising, until finally, your body betrays you. You have no choice but to take a breath, opening your mouth and gasping for air. Caleb wastes no time, shoving his large cock inside as you take your first breath, causing you to choke harder as he holds your head in place. "Breathe through your nose. Shouldn't a slut like you know this?" he taunts, his voice dripping with contempt, as he begins to move, forcing you to take him deeper.

You obey, fighting to breathe as you follow his command. The sounds of Caleb's low groans and pants fill the room, mixing with the sloppy, wet sounds of you sucking him. You fall into a rhythm, your head bobbing back and forth, faster and faster, as if trying to end this nightmare as quickly as possible. He seems pleased with your compliance, his hands tightening in your hair, guiding you. This goes on for what feels like an eternity, each second stretching into an agonizing eternity.

"Shit...of course, you're a fucking natural," he groans, pushing you even harder against his groin. You choke again, feeling him grow impossibly bigger in your mouth, his pleasure building. He's almost there, almost... "Buuuut," he starts, suddenly pulling you off his cock. You cough, not prepared for the sudden influx of air, your lungs burning. You look up at him, tears streaming down your face, your eyes pleading. "C-can I go home now...?" The hope in your voice is palpable, but it's quickly crushed as a cruel smile spreads across his face.

"Not until I cream that pretty little pussy. Get to the window. Now."

You burst into tears, shaking your head furiously as you begin to crawl backwards, trying to put distance between you and him. The thought of him wanting to cum inside you, to have sex with you raw, is terrifying. "No...no..." you whine, your voice breaking with desperation. He sighs impatiently, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you against the window. You squirm, terrified as you catch a view of the schools landscape outside, where anyone could walk out at any moment.

"C-caleb please! Someones gonna see us…" you cry. He seems like he's only half listening, busying his other hand with pulling up your uniform shirt and pushing up your bra.

"Aww, is little miss honor roll worried someone will see and she'll get suspended?" Caleb says, warm breath against your ear.

You shiver as your tits are pressed against the cold glass, in plain view to anyone who could possibly pass by and happen to look up, warm breath against your ear as he pulls up your skirt and roughly shoves down your panties. "Don't worry. If you get pregnant and have to drop out it won't matter, you'll have a nice warm place to sleep right in my bed. Filled to the fucking brim. Every. Single. Night."  

His words are a cruel promise, leaving you with a sense of dread and helplessness as you feel him beginning to shove his throbbing cock into your cunt.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Homecoming.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (+Thoma) [Genshin].

Word Count: 1.5k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Implied Imprisonment, Coercion, Slight Financial Manipulation, Slight Bondage, and Abuse of Power.

It was getting hard to breathe.

You weren’t sure what it was. The rope around your neck, maybe, twisted to the point of choking tightness, or the cords running over your torso, knotted down the center of your chest, tied off where the slope of your waist aligned with the curve of your spine. The awkward position you were in couldn’t help, either – sitting on the edge of a bed bigger than any you’d ever seen, your hands bound behind your back and Thoma, behind you, doing his best not to put any weight on your shoulders as he slid a piece of cloth over your eyes. You blinked, once, twice, but the material was thick, and you couldn’t see anything more than a red haze and the vague outline of amorphous furniture. Still, you tried not to show your discomfort outwardly. Thoma had told you about this, smiled as he explained that Ayato’s little indulgences weren't for the faint of heart. He’d warned you, but you’d only laughed, only told him that you’d be fine, that you trusted your master and you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

Not that it would've mattered, if you didn’t.

He could've been a monster, fanged and snarling, and you'd still be here, poised in the heart of his lair out of nothing but your own volition.

“That alright?” He asked, drawing you out of your thoughts and back into reality, where Ayato wasn't dangerous. Where you already knew you wouldn't get hurt. “Don't be afraid to say so, if it isn't. He’d kill me if we had to stop a couple hours in just to make a few adjustments.”

You nodded, doing your best to smile. “It’s perfect. Thanks again for doing this, Thoma.”

A light chuckle, a hand on your shoulder. You could feel the mattress dip as Thoma stood up, positioning himself at the corner of the bed closest to you. “Don’t thank me yet. Our lord is…” He trailed off, and you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his grin lilting into something crooked and absentminded as he searched for the right words. That was how he’d looked when he first suggested this, at least, when you’d first come to him for help. “Lord Kamisato has strange tastes. Just try to bear with us until he’s had his fill.”

You knew that. You’d been serving the Kamisato clan since you found yourself stranded in Inazuma, since Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato took you in as a housekeeper, under the pretense that another pair of hands might stop Thoma from working himself to death. In reality, more of your time was spent sorting paperwork than sweeping floors, filtering through letters from other officials in other commissions and running scratch-work proposals halfway across Narukumi Island because Ayato hadn’t bothered to check if he actually had them on his person before he reached the Shogun’s palace.

Not that you minded. If anything, it reminded you of home, where ink and paper were as valuable as silver and gold and a good contract was worth as much as the payment it guaranteed. You appreciated it, on some days, found it comforting to lose yourself in terms and clauses and technicalities. On most, it only helped to make your homesickness all the more unbearable.

You opened your mouth, ready to laugh and ask what you were in for, but you heard the bedroom door creak, sharp footsteps crossing the threshold before pausing in front of you, and you snapped your mouth shut, straightening your back and trying to look as dignified as you could on the edge of his mattress, bound and blinded to his specifications.

“Lord Kamisato.” Thoma broke the silence, as cheery as he was eager to please. “Welcome home!”

A long, quiet moment passed. You could feel eyes prying into you – Ayato’s or Thoma’s, you couldn’t be sure. “I don’t see a gag, (Y/n).”

Of course. You bowed your head. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, but you tried to ignore it. You needed this, more than you needed your comfort, more than you needed your pride. “Welcome home, my lord.”

A hum of approval, another step forward. You knew it was him, now, his stare, prying into your skin as he evaluated Thoma’s handiwork. Suddenly, the kimono he’d told you to wear felt too thin, too light, despite the quality of the fabric, despite the fact that you’d thought nothing of its design only minutes ago. The air hitched in your lungs as something brushed against the base of your throat – the handle of his fan, cold and metallic, trailing from your neck to your collarbone to your chest, dipping under a cord and drawing it taut, testing the strength of the knots. “Excellent work.” To Thoma, not to you. His fan fell away, replaced by gloved fingertips, gliding over your thigh where a slit in the skirt left you exposed. “And there was no resistance?”

“None, my lord,” Thoma replied, with no delay. His nonchalance was a gift from the archons, a patch of normality you could use to ground yourself as Ayato bent down to your height, his hand drifting to your hip and squeezing with more force than he absolutely had to use. “All I had to do was make the suggestion. They were desperate enough to take the first thing I offered.”

“As I thought.” Your chest felt tight. Something with dull teeth and an unending hunger tore at your stomach from the inside, attempting to gnash its way out. When you shifted, attempting to edge a little farther onto the bed, to get a little further from him, his hand shot to your chin, his thumb digging into your jaw with a near-bruising force. “I was insulted, you know, when Thoma first reported back to me.” He took his time, speaking slowly. Something was wrong. He was supposed to touch you, but not like this. Not so cruelly. “Is that all I am to you, beloved? A source of mora?”

“I meant no disrespect.” That much was true. Thoma could’ve referred you to anyone. You would’ve taken anything. “It’s just—It’s an emergency, and when Thoma told me of your… of your generosity, I—”

“Am I allowed to know what you’ll be using my generosity for, exactly?”

You swallowed, dryly. He wasn't supposed to be asking so many questions, either. “I’m afraid that’s—”

“An empty spot on a merchant’s vessel bound for Liyue Harbor, set to leave an hour before sunrise tomorrow morning.” You felt all the warmth drain from your body. Ayato made a soft, inquisitive noise, and Thoma went on without further prompting. “From what I could gather, they’ve been asking around since the Sakoku Decree was lifted. This just happened to be the first ship with an opening.”

His grip was tighter, now, harsher. You might’ve cried out, if you’d been able to use your voice at all. “And I trust the vacancy’s already been filled?”

“As of this afternoon, by a representative of the Yashiro Commission. She’s asked me to thank the charitable Lord Kamisato on her behalf and inform you of her infinite gratitude.” His free hand fell to your waist, his mouth to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck. You tried to stand, to pull against your restraints, but the ropes held fast, and Ayato only laughed as he pushed you back down with little effort. “I took the liberty of doubling the merchant's fee. Just so his mind won’t be easily swayed, should a certain someone find a way to plead their case.”

Again, you attempted to move, to put any amount of distance between you and him, but Ayato’s fingers were already slipping under your makeshift collar, his knuckles already pressing against the column of your throat as he shoved you onto your back. “I think you’ve managed to break my heart, this time.” He still sounded so calm, so composed. You tried to kick, but it was futile – you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t use your arms, and in a second, Thoma had caught your ankles and pinned your legs down, too, rendering you as helpless and as useless as they’d always been kind enough to pretend you weren’t. “How little you must think of us. Did you assume we’d just stand back and let you sail off? How easily did you think I’d let my favorite little servant slip away?”

“I found a letter in the servants’ barracks,” Thoma chimed in, his tone just a little lighter than it should’ve been, just a little brighter. “I don’t think we would’ve gotten so much as a proper goodbye.”

“Please, I—” You forced yourself to go still, to go stiff. There was another fleeting kiss to the edge of your jaw, then the corner of your lips, and you did what you could not to thrash, not to scream. “I just want to go home—”

“What are you talking about?” You didn’t answer, but he didn’t seem to need you to. You could already feel him cupping your cheek, and already, you’d forgotten how to breathe entirely.

“You’re already here, beloved."

[yandere-daydreams]

Trope: Don't Look Back.

Pairing: Yandere!Nightwing | Dick Grayson x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 1.7k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, Physical Intimidation, Mentions of Harassment, and Obsessive Behavior.

One of the first things you learn in Gotham is to never look back.

No glancing over your shoulder, no snapping toward the sounds of raised voices and chaos on the other side of the street, no looking away from the grimy subway floor when a group of deliberately non-descript men with ski-masks in their pockets and bulging plastic bags in their hands stepped into the carriage. You kept your eyes open and straight ahead, your posture straight and your hands by your sides. No indecision. No getting pulled into anything you couldn’t afford. No looking back.

Gotham’s golden rule had always served you well. Even more so in Blüdhaven, a city that seemed to match Gotham’s crime rates beat for beat (albeit, with fewer costumed rouges). It was simple. It was smart. Even better, it was reliable.

So you weren’t sure why it seemed to be failing you so drastically, tonight.

Footsteps playing in time with yours, a figure lurking just beyond the scope of your peripheral. You kept your pace steady, your hands in your pockets, thankful beyond gratitude that the night’s chill gave you an excuse to keep your eyes low and your head bowed. You’d kept it up for eight – nine, now, as you haphazardly rushed across an intersection – blocks, and you would only have to hold out for five more. Once you got to your apartment, you’d be in the clear clear. That, or you would lead your stalker directly back to the place where you lived and slept, but you didn’t have to think about that right now. One problem at a time.

Four blocks. You heard your stalker cross to your side of the street, but kept your eyes focused on the darkness in front of you, your shoulders squared like you were just waiting for a fight. You weren’t, of course. You’d expected to spend your night on someone else's couch, in someone else's bed, not being trailed like a wounded animal.

Two blocks. Their pace picked up, footsteps edging that much closer. You did the same – your brisk walk reflexively morphing into a stuttering, unsure jog. It didn’t help. They were still closing the distance.

Half a block. Your apartment building came into sight – the moss-eaten brick and cheap scaffolding canopies a sight to behold. You would have to round the corner to reach the main entrance, but you didn’t have time for that. Gritting your teeth, you ducked into the nearest alleyway and sprinted for the side-door. You didn’t dare look back, or up, or at anything but the rusted-out lock in front of you and your own trembling hands as they fumbled with it. You nearly dropped your keys twice while trying to fish the ring out of your pocket, only to waste precious seconds searching for the right shape, the right brand. Finally, you jammed one into the lock and, just before you could turn it, spared a hasty glance down the alleyway, searching for looming figures and empty duffle bags and—

And nothing.

The alleyway was empty. You were alone.

For a moment, at least.

“Looking for someone?”

It was humiliating – just how violently you startled. You dropped your keys and followed them down, tripping over your own feet in a clumsy rush to back away. There was a rolling chuckle, a gloved hand reaching down into your line of sight, and then you were blinking up at a masked, smiling face. Nightwing. The city’s angel in black and blue.

Immediately, you relaxed. When he started to pull you back onto your feet, you didn’t resist. He was patient with you, resting a hand on your shoulder once you had your legs underneath you, letting the silence drag on until you’d caught your breath, until you could imagine speaking over the sound of your own rushing pulse. “I’m sorry, I—” You clenched your eyes shut, driving your nails into your palms. “I swore I heard someone following me.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” He spoke with an easy sort of confidence. You’d heard he was good at that – easing the nerves of rattled civilians. It was hard not to feel just a little safer with him around. “I must’ve scared them off. This happen before?”

“No, I—Uh, not that I’ve noticed, at least.” There’d been a cop a few months ago who kept trying to catch your eye from the other side of a coffee shop, a faceless man at a club a couple weeks ago who tried to get too close too quickly, but no stalkers or late-night followers. Nightwing bent down, reaching for your keys, but you snatched them up first, still more skittish than you should have been. Suddenly, it seemed reflexive to signal out the right one, to fit it into the ancient lock and haul the creaking, leaden door open. “Thank you, but I should really be—”

“I’ll walk you up.”

That was another rule you’d learned in Gotham. Don’t, under literally any circumstance, let literally anyone follow you literally anywhere. Especially home. Especially if you live in an apartment with concrete walls and neighbors who’d rather not get involved.

But, this wasn’t Gotham. This was Blüdhaven, and had it been Batman offering to see you to your door, you would’ve rolled out the red fucking carpet. You figured you should show the same courtesy to this city’s local golden boy.

Still, you hesitated, hand curled around the edge of the door and Nightwing loitering politely behind you. “I’d hate to waste any more of your time.”

“C’mon, sweetheart, what do you think I’m here for?” Another easy laugh. He caught the door just above your hand, prying it open that much further. “My only job is to keep you safe. You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

He was right. This was his responsibility, and you were only dragging it out. Again, you mentally aligned him with Batman. They were both vigilantes. They were both only trying to keep people like you out of danger.

The only difference was that Batman wouldn’t have called you ‘sweetheart’. Or, you hoped so, at least.

You shouldered the door open and let Nightwing inside. He trailed you through the lobby, always a step and half behind, his shadow cast over you by glaring overhead lights. You half-expected him to ditch you at the elevator, but no – he stepped in next to you, his muscular form too tall, too bulky in the confined space. You pressed the button for your floor and watched the doors come together, trapping you inside.

The seconds ticked by in silence. He was the one to break it, predictably. Another reason you should’ve never left Gotham: Batman didn’t stick around to chat.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

You shook your head, more than happy to leave it at that. Nightwing wasn’t so satisfied.

“Ah, that’s my bad. I really should’ve guessed. You seem like that type - always keeping to yourself.” Your eyes snapped forward on instinct, fixing on the titanium elevator doors. You watched his reflection as he went on. “Oh, by the way, do you want to tell me what you were doing out so late?”

You swallowed dryly. “Just the late shift. My coworker called off at the last minute.”

“Liar.”

Your gaze darted to the floor indicator, each number creeping upward slower than the last. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You’re so cold, honey.” Again with the terms of endearment. At this point, you didn’t even need Batman. You would’ve taken Green Arrow. “Your little hook-up would be so upset.”

Fuck it. You could’ve found a way to live with Poison Ivy, if you had to. “He didn’t answer the—”

“He wanted to.” Nightwing cocked his head to the side. “Tried to scream and everything. I managed to talk him out of it, though. I didn’t want him to scare you off.” He paused, chuckled. “That’s not how we were supposed to meet. I wanted it to be more romantic. More heroic.”

You didn’t respond. Your tongue was pressed flat against the roof of your mouth, your body stiff to stop from trembling. He hummed. “I might’ve botched it, after all. Still – I couldn’t just let you walk home all alone, could I?”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Nightwing, sir.”

“Please.” You felt his hand on your arm, his body edge that much closer to yours. “Call me Dick.”

Finally, the elevator came to a stuttering halt. You watched the door inch apart for a beat, then another, before shoving him away and bolting.

You made it all of three steps into the hallway before a fist caught by the collar. An arm curled around your waist, hauling off your feet and into his chest as he buried his face in the dip of your shoulder. You tried to throw your elbow into his stomach, to thrash, to scream, but his hand was already over the loser half of your face, and if he noticed you fighting against him, all your strength earned little more than a playful squeeze to your side, a contented sigh half-smothered by your jacket. Worst of all, he was moving down the hall, towards the door to your apartment. You tried and failed not to wonder how he already knew where you lived.

You made one more mistake – your final one and the last of Gotham’s golden rules. As he came to a stop in front for door and reached into your pocket, his hand falling away from your mouth, you tried to bargain.

“Please, I—” You grabbed for his wrist as he brought out your keys and raised them to the lock. Nightwing only moved you that much farther to the side, hushing you under his breathe. You stammered on regardless. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong, I—I didn’t mean to bother you, and I really don’t have anything you would want, or—”

“That’s not true.” Even if you hadn’t been able to hear the smile in his voice, you would’ve been able to feel it biting into your throat. “I’ve wanted you from the moment our eyes met.”

“I don’t—” The frustration was almost worse than the fear. He was kissing you, now, open-mouthed and pushed into your jugular. “I don’t know you.”

“But you want to, right?”

You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe the way his teeth scraped over your skin, or the hand now slipping under your shirt. Maybe it was the sound of a lock clicking out of place, or the feather light, honey thick tone he adopted. It could've been everything. It could've been something else entirely. Your blood ran cold either way, all the warmth flooding out of you as he went on.

“If you didn’t, you never would’ve looked at me in the first place.”

[eyrichandesu]

You thought you were cute. Sassy little smiles, crossing your legs slowly in that tight-ass dress, ignoring Caleb's warnings all evening like he wouldn't do something about it.

You should’ve known better.

Now you’re straddling him in the driver’s seat of his parked car—your dress bunched up around your waist, tits spilling from your bra, and his thick cock buried inside you. The windows are fogged, the streetlamp outside barely lighting the scene of your punishment.

And Caleb?

He’s got you locked in a brutal chokehold, your face pressed into the crook of his arm while he fucks up into you like he’s trying to split you open.

“Thought you were real fuckin’ funny tonight,” he snarls against your jaw, teeth grazing skin as he slams into you again, and again, and again. “Now look at you. Can’t even talk.”

You can’t. Not with how tight his arm is, not with how deep he’s hitting—how hard his cock is pounding against your cervix like it’s punishing you for every bratty thing you said earlier.

His hand sneaks between your bodies, thumb finding your clit and grinding in tight, merciless circles.

“Your pussy’s so wet, baby,” Caleb growls. “You like being manhandled like this? You like knowing anyone could walk by this car and see you getting used like a fucktoy?”

You moan—choked and broken—and he just laughs, low and mean, like he already knows the answer.

“Pathetic little thing,” he whispers, cock twitching inside you. “You were begging for it. All that mouth just so I’d fuck the attitude out of you.”

And that’s what he’s doing.

The car is rocking under the weight of him. You’re limp in his lap, arms barely working, eyes rolling back as the pressure around your neck blurs your vision in the best way. You can’t even lift your head. You’re drooling on his shoulder. His name comes out in pitiful whimpers.

“That’s it,” he hisses. “So cockdrunk you can’t even pretend you hate it.”

You cum with a shudder—legs locking up, your cunt clenching around him so tight he snarls and pins you down harder, arm flexing as he fucks you through it.

You’re gasping, twitching, a mess on top of him.

Caleb’s thrusts get even rougher. Meaner. His voice cracks.

“Gonna fill you up,” he pants against your cheek. “Gonna fuck a bratty baby full of my cum so she can remember who she belongs to.”

You try to respond—but all you get out is a broken, needy sob before he slams into you one final time and spills everything inside your overstimulated, aching pussy.

His cum’s so hot you swear it burns. It floods you—deep, messy, thick—and you feel it drip down as you pulse around him helplessly.

He keeps you there, stuffed full on his lap, panting and twitching. His arm still around your neck—not choking now, just holding. Keeping you right where he wants you.

And then?

He grins.

“You're not putting your panties back on,” he says, voice all low and smug. “You're gonna sit there, leaking my cum down your thighs while I drive you home. And if you even think about mouthing off again?”

His fingers trail between your legs, scooping up the slick mess of you both, then shoving it right back inside with a curl of his digits.

“I’ll pull over and fuck you on the hood.”

[so6ncie]

── 𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 boys punishing you for teasing in public ! nsfw, public sex, explicit themes, female reader, non-vanilla content ☆ characters featured: sylus, xavier, rafayel, & zayne author's note ♡ since a lot of y'all wanted me to continue this post ... i shall deliver [] also i changed the plot a little bit.

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 Sylus had been glaring at you all night after you let your hand rest on his thigh under the dinner table, your fingers brushing dangerously close to his cock while the others talked as if nothing was happening. His eyes had gone dark, his knuckles white around his glass, but he didn’t say a word. He waited.

The second the door shut behind you both, he had you against the wall, one large hand around your throat, the other already tugging your clothes down. “Do you think I’m some toy you can tease in public?” His voice was low, gravelly, his breath hot against your ear. “You wanted to see me snap? Congratulations—you got it.”

His fingers shoved inside you without warning, curling deep until your knees buckled. You whimpered, but he just smirked cruelly. “Already this wet after being a little slut in front of everyone? Pathetic.” He didn’t let you answer—he fucked his fingers into you harder, each movement sharp and merciless, until you were gasping and clawing at his chest.

When he finally pulled his hand away, you barely had a second to breathe before he spun you around, bending you over the desk. The sound of his zipper lowering made your stomach flip. “You’ll take every inch,” he growled, slamming into you with one brutal thrust that stole your voice. The force knocked the air from your lungs, the wood creaking under your grip as he pounded into you.

“You like making me hard in front of everyone? Then you can take it all here, where no one can save you,” he snarled against your neck, teeth scraping your skin. Every thrust was punishing, deep and unrelenting, his hand pressed at the base of your throat to keep you pinned.

When your moans grew louder, his palm clamped over your mouth. “Quiet. You don’t deserve to be loud after teasing me like that,” he hissed. He drove into you harder, relentless, the wet slap of your bodies echoing through the room.

Your legs trembled, your body burning with need, but he showed no mercy. “Don’t you dare cum without permission,” he warned, his pace deliberately dragging you to the edge and yanking you back. Tears blurred your vision, your whole body straining against his control, but he only laughed darkly.

Finally, when you were a wreck beneath him, he pulled your hair back to force your head up, his mouth grazing your ear. “Beg,” he ordered. You choked out desperate pleas, your voice raw, and only then did his thrusts grow faster, rougher, his release spilling inside you as he groaned against your skin.

Collapsing against your back, his teeth nipped your shoulder. “Next time you even think about teasing me in public,” he whispered, still buried inside you, “I’ll fuck you where everyone can see.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 Xavier had been smirking all evening when you leaned just a little too close to Zayne during a conversation, letting your hand brush against his arm and laughing softly. You thought it was harmless teasing—but the flicker of irritation in Xavier’s eyes told you otherwise. He didn’t call you out there. He waited, patient and composed, until the second you were alone.

The door hadn’t even fully closed before his hands were on you, shoving you back against it with a heavy thud. His lips crashed into yours, teeth biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “You think it’s funny to make me jealous? To flaunt yourself in front of him?” His voice was a low snarl, trembling with restrained fury.

You gasped when he spun you around, shoving you onto the bed, his weight pressing you down as his hand ripped at your clothes. “Don’t play dumb,” he growled, dragging your panties down your thighs with a sharp yank. His fingers were rough, pinning your wrists above your head as he ground his cock against your ass through his clothes. “You wanted to provoke me—so now you’ll get what you asked for.”

The sound of his zipper lowering made your pulse race. Without hesitation, Xavier buried himself inside you with a brutal thrust, making you cry out against the sheets. He hissed through his teeth, gripping your hips so hard you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. “Tight,” he groaned, voice breaking with lust. “You’re so fucking tight even when you’re being bad.”

His pace was merciless, slamming into you over and over, his hips snapping against yours until the mattress creaked. Your cries only spurred him on, his body folding over yours as he bit down on your shoulder hard enough to mark. “Scream all you want, little tease,” he muttered, dragging his cock out slow just to slam it back in deeper, making your back arch helplessly. “No one’s coming to save you.”

When you tried to lift your head, his hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your face into the pillow. “Stay down. You don’t get to look at me after what you did,” he growled, his rhythm relentless, each thrust punishing and raw. The roughness only made your body clench around him, and Xavier groaned darkly. “Oh, you like this, don’t you? My beautiful slut likes being ruined.”

Your walls fluttered around him desperately, your whimpers muffled into the sheets. He slapped your ass, the sting making you jolt forward. “Don’t even think about cumming,” he warned, his pace slowing just to tease, rolling his hips deep until you squirmed. “You don’t get that kind of reward until I say so.”

By the time he finally allowed you to let go, you were trembling beneath him, body soaking the sheets with your release. Xavier groaned harshly, driving into you harder until he filled you with his cum, spilling deep inside with one final thrust. He stayed there, panting against your back, before leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear:

“Next time you tease me in front of another man, I won’t fuck you in private. I’ll take you right there—let them watch me break you.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 Rafayel had the softest smile when you teased him in front of the others—leaning just a bit too close to Sylus, laughing at Zayne’s joke a little too sweetly. He didn’t flare up or lash out like Xavier would. Instead, he just placed a gentle hand on your back and kept you close, his voice velvety calm as if nothing bothered him at all. But the second you two were alone, his entire aura shifted.

He sat you down on the edge of the bed, tilting your chin up with two fingers, his dark eyes gleaming. “You enjoyed making me jealous, didn’t you?” His tone was calm, but the tight grip on your chin betrayed how tightly he was holding himself together. “All that smiling, touching… pretending I wasn’t watching.”

Before you could respond, his hand cracked across your thigh, the sting making you gasp. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t mistake my patience for weakness.” Another sharp slap followed, this time against your inner thigh, leaving you trembling.

When he finally slid his hand between your legs, his touch wasn’t gentle—it was maddeningly slow, tracing circles over your clit without giving you the pressure you needed. “Beg,” he whispered, fingers ghosting over your folds but never dipping inside. “Beg me to give you what you were flaunting around to others.”

You whimpered, trying to grind against his fingers, but his other hand pressed hard on your hip, holding you still. “Ah-ah. Don’t move. You don’t get to control this—you gave that up the moment you teased me in front of them.”

Finally, when he slipped two fingers inside, it wasn’t tender. He fucked them into you ruthlessly, curling them deep until your legs shook. His thumb pressed hard against your clit, dragging out desperate moans from your throat. “That’s it,” he murmured, watching you fall apart. “So noisy now… why weren’t you this desperate when you had everyone’s eyes on you?”

When you thought you were close, he pulled away entirely, wiping his wet fingers across your lips. “Open.” You obeyed, tasting yourself as his smile curved darker. “Good girl. That’s where teasing gets you—obedience.”

Only then did he free his cock, sliding into you with one long, slow thrust that stole your breath. His pace was steady but unforgiving, grinding deep with every push until your body squirmed helplessly beneath him. He didn’t let up, even when you begged, his hands pinning you flat against the mattress.

“You’ll take every drop I give you,” he whispered against your ear as his thrusts grew harsher, his voice soft but merciless. “And you’ll remember that you belong to me—not to their eyes, not to their jokes. Only. To. Me.”

When he came, it was with a low groan, burying himself deep inside you, filling you until you cried from overstimulation. Rafayel kissed your trembling lips sweetly afterward, but his words still carried steel: “Next time you tease me, I won’t just punish you. I’ll make you cry in front of them all.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 Zayne didn’t say a word when you leaned too close to Xavier during dinner, your laugh a little too soft, your hand brushing his sleeve like you weren’t aware of the way Zayne’s crimson eyes burned holes into you. He didn’t even call you out—he just smiled that dangerous, unreadable smile and let the tension simmer until you were alone.

The door had barely shut behind you when his hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you hard against the wall. “You think I didn’t see that?” His voice was low, venom-laced. “You think you can make a fool out of me in front of them?” His thumb pressed firmly against your pulse point, just enough to make your head swim.

When you whimpered, he smirked. “Oh, now you’re quiet. Where was all that boldness when you were laughing in his face?” He spun you around, shoving you down over the desk, his hand fisting in your hair as he yanked your head back. “Spread your legs. Now.”

The leather of his gloves was rough as he slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room, each strike harder than the last until your skin burned. “Count,” he ordered, voice like a whip. You choked out numbers between gasps, barely holding yourself together as his palm cracked down again and again. By ten, you were trembling, tears pricking your eyes.

Only then did he unbuckle his belt, yanking your clothes out of the way. “You don’t deserve prep,” he growled, shoving into you in one brutal thrust that stole the air from your lungs. The stretch burned, his cock splitting you open without mercy as he held you pinned to the desk.

Every thrust was punishing, sharp, his hips slamming into you with vicious precision. “You wanted attention? You’ve got it,” he snarled, pulling your hair so you were forced to watch your own wrecked expression reflected faintly in the glass of the window. “Look at yourself—pathetic, dripping for me after flaunting yourself to him.”

Your cries only spurred him harder, his pace relentless, rutting into you until your legs gave out and the desk was the only thing holding you up. “Say whose you are,” he demanded, hand tightening around your throat again.

“I-I’m yours...” you sobbed, voice broken under the weight of his thrusts.

“That’s right,” he hissed, biting into your shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

When you clenched around him, he groaned low in his chest, grinding deep inside you until you were shaking apart. He didn’t let you ride out your high gently—instead, he fucked you through it, dragging out the overstimulation until you screamed for him. Only when he finally came, spilling hot and deep inside you, did his punishing pace falter.

Zayne pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip down your thighs with satisfaction. He smirked coldly, smearing it against your swollen pussy with his gloved fingers. “Messy little slut,” he murmured. “Next time you think about teasing me in public, remember how sore you’re going to be the morning after.”

He left you trembling over the desk, body wrecked, before kissing the top of your head almost mockingly. “That’s what happens when you play games with me, sweetheart.”

೯⠀⁺ ⠀𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 Caleb didn’t react when you teased the others in public. Not when you brushed Xavier’s arm, not when you leaned a little too close to Sylus, not even when you laughed just a little too sweetly. He only gave the smallest twitch of his jaw, silent, composed. That was your only warning.

Later, when the two of you were finally alone, he struck without hesitation. He shoved you against the door, slamming it shut so hard the frame rattled. His broad hand pinned your chin, forcing your eyes up to meet his. His voice was low, dangerous. “You think it’s a game? You think I’ll let you act like that in front of them?”

You could barely answer before his grip tightened at your throat—not choking, but heavy, possessive, making your pulse hammer under his palm. “Say it,” he ordered. “Whose are you?”

When the word yours slipped past your lips, he spun you around, bending you over the desk. His hand pressed between your shoulder blades, holding you flat, the other tearing your clothes aside with ruthless precision. “Good,” he muttered, his tone sharp and unforgiving. “Now I’ll remind you exactly what that means.”

The first thrust was brutal—so deep you gasped, nails scraping the wood beneath you. Caleb’s pace was merciless, driving into you again and again, each thrust harder than the last. He held your wrists in one hand behind your back, pinning you effortlessly, while the other dug into your hip like he was branding you.

“You wanted attention?” His voice was a growl in your ear. “Here it is. All of it. You don’t get to look at them. You don’t get to smile at them. You belong here—under me.”

Every time you tried to squeeze around him for release, he smacked your ass sharply, the sting sending shivers through you. “Not yet,” he snarled. “You don’t come until I say.”

Your cries filled the room, muffled against the desk, begging him, pleading for permission. Caleb’s answer was relentless thrusts, punishing you with his cock until you were shaking, your body unraveling. “Beg louder,” he demanded, his voice rough and dark.

When you screamed his name, the dam finally broke. He fucked you through your orgasm without slowing, forcing you to ride the waves until you went limp, trembling under his weight. Only when he was satisfied—after burying himself to the hilt and spilling deep inside you—did his grip on your wrists finally loosen.

Pulling you upright, he pressed your back to his chest, his hand sliding possessively over your stomach, his breath hot against your ear. “Remember this the next time you even think about teasing me in public,” he whispered. “You’re mine. Always mine. And I’ll ruin you again and again until you never forget it.”

— 𝐬𝐨𝟔𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞 2025: do not republish or copy any of my works. 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼 are open < request here > some tags who commented on the first part @dawnbreakerbrokeme ♡ @voidsylus ♡ @deiicaciy

[rocorambles]

Hi Roco!!! I'm so glad to see u back on the dash!! Missed u 💗 How r u and what animes/games/books have u been keeping up with??

Ty ty!! Haha glad I can bless my followers with my h*rny reposts 😂 I'm ok! I've been super into Gachiakuta and Love and Deepspace recently and there's TOO DAMN LITTLE Enjin smut out there, so may need to fix that 👀

[kissandtellus]

sooo in your hybrid fics, Caleb has banned hear suppressants from the house, how would he react to learning MC was secretly taking them because she didnt want to bother him 👀

-🧃 (can I use this emoji?)

Beating the Heat

A/N: You absolutely can use that emoji! Also this is a lil’ on the darker/Yandere side for Caleb. Keep that in mind!

Synopsis: Caleb reacting to you taking Heat Suppressants.

Warnings: No smut, but implied. Caleb is obsessive, forcing to expel pills (not graphic but it’s there), Yandere Caleb, Omegaverse AU

Caleb always knew you’d end up in his arms one day, as his Mate. The first time he presented as an Alpha in front of Gran, he was sure she would have a heart attack.

But YOU oh his sweet innocent girl. You’d had your first Heat before you could properly present. All because of HIM. Gran had banished him through the attic that unfortunately rested right above your bedroom. He could hear your cries, could hear Gran soothe you with soup and Heat Suppressants.

From that day, he waged war on your Heat.

After returning from the dead (literally) he knew he would claim you. But he wanted to do it properly. Court you, make you comfortable, willingly give yourself over to him.

You always visit Caleb in Skyhaven after he takes long missions. The Unicorn Operatives and Captain Jenna raise a brow but don’t question it. Usually this means Caleb won’t get back until late after the briefing but you busy yourself around his Penthouse.

But as you lay curled up on the bed with a good book, the cramps hit you.

~~

Caleb knew there was something off the moment he walked into their shared apartment, the air too thick, scent too sweet... And when a low, pitiful moan echoed from bedroom, he dropped his Colonel cap on the coffee table. Because he knew that sound.

He didn't bother knocking as he charged toward bedroom, almost ripping the door off the hinges as he burst in.

You were curled into a tight ball on the bed, face flushed and covered in sweat as you clutched your stomach through thin shirt. You didn't even look when he entered.

You had barely managed to swallow one pill before your Heat began to rip through you. The bottle of suppressants lay on the bed while you curled in on yourself. “G-Go away. I’m not-I’m not goin’ through a Heat without them.”

Caleb's jaw clenched hard enough to hurt, his gaze flicking between your trembling form and that pill bottle like it had personally betrayed him.

“You little liar." His voice was a low, dangerous growl as he strode forward, snatching the suppressants off the sheets before you could react and hurling them across the room. The plastic shattered against the wall, pills scattering like unwanted secrets.

He didn’t give you time to protest. Just yanked you upright by your upper arm until you were nose-to-nose with him, his breath hot against your flushed skin. "I told you what those would do to you," he snarled, shaking you slightly for emphasis. "And yet here we are."

You whimpered, the sound pitiful and weak as another wave of heat crashed over you, muscles locking up under his grip. Caleb didn’t soften. Just dragged you closer until lips brushed ear in mockingly sweet whisper.

"Guess what, Pipsqueak? You're goin' through this one raw."

He all but drags you through the apartment, towards the bathroom. Even ONE of those pills was enough to ruin your whole Heat.

It was still early, he could get it out of your system still.

"Caleb—wait!” you gasped, but he wasn't listening.

His grip was iron around your wrist as he hauled you into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him with a bang. The sound echoed in the small space like a gunshot.

Inescapable.

You barely had time to register the cold tiles under your knees before Caleb was wrenching open the medicine cabinet, shoving aside bandages and painkillers until his fingers closed around a half-empty bottle of ipecac syrup.

“Open." His voice left no room for argument.

Your stomach twisted at just smell of it, already recoiling back against sink but Caleb didn’t let get far.

“Either swallow it willingly,” He growled lowly while tipping the contents toward your lips in clear threat, knuckles whitening where he held your jaw steady despite your weak struggles.

“…Or I hold ya down n’ pour it myself.”

And judging by look his eyes? He wasn’t bluffing.

His grip doesn't loosen—doesn't budge.

"No."

The word is a whipcrack in the humid air of the bathroom, his pupils blown wide with something feral, something that isn’t Caleb right now, not your childhood friend, not your protector.

Your sobs don’t move him. Your thrashing doesn’t either, he just pins you harder against the sink, one hand still locked around your jaw as he tips the bottle closer to your lips with zero remorse.

The syrup touches lips finally – sticky-sweet and nauseating even before the taste hits your tongue properly. Suddenly survival instincts kick in harder than pride; teeth clamping shut at last second while whimpers claw its way up your throat.

"...Please... Don’ make me..." Your voice cracks pathetically around the edges like a child again.

For split-second Caleb hesitates, jaw tightening at sound, before his expression shutters back into cold resolve once more.

"Shoulda thought ‘bout that before sneakin' shit behind my back."

He doesn’t let go until he’s sure you’ve discarded every single last drop of those evil suppressants.

He doesn't rush as he wipes your face clean, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away tears with a gentleness that makes you melt in his arms.

"There we go... All better now." Like he hadn’t just been the one to cause this mess.

He carries you to bed, ever so gently to not rustle your already cramping belly.

He lays with you, waiting for your Heat to fully kick in. He brings you water, dresses you in his hoodie that swallows you whole, feeds you fruit as the hours tick by.

It doesn't take long for the real signs of Heat to start. You're already so sensitive, body flushed and panting for more contact as hormones rage through your system.

Caleb's eyes darken when that first shudder hits, his hand tightening on the fabric of your thigh as he leans over you to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath hot against skin, tongue darting out to taste the sweat collecting there before biting down softly.

"There she is…My sweet little Omega."

If he ever catches Zayne prescribing you those fucking suppressants? He’ll tear apart Akso Hospital to get to him.

[kissandtellus]

Planned Escape: When You ‘Run’ From It LADS

Synopsis: You can run from it, but are you ready to face the consequences?

Warnings: Free use, overstim, faux sympathy, dumbification, Voyeurism, thrill of being caught, teasing, degrading, praising, these boys are jealousss.

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Xavier

Xavier is like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Your snuggly little guy, playing the part of a perfect co-worker and neighbor!

Until he has you pinned under him, knees to your chest in a mean mating press.

“You just had to smile like that at Nero, hm? You truly cannot be so stupid, to think you wouldn’t end up in this position after that.” All you did was thank Nero for reports you’d asked him to obtain.

But Xavier didn’t like that.

And the punishing thrust to your cervix was proof of that.

“M’ ngh! M’ sorry! I can’t-Xav I can’t-“

You try to squirm away but Xavier only shakes his head at your pathetic attempts. He grabs both ankles in a single hand, bends your knees just so and-

You are sobbing, feeling him so deep in your tummy it almost hurts to breathe.

“Now be a good girl and I won’t treat that cute little updo like a cum rag. Don’t run again.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Rafayel

Rafayel was obsessed with your body in a nearly obsessive way. Especially when it came to how you bowed and cried under his care.

He has both of your arms pinned behind your back, his arm looped around them for leverage. The gold plated mirror in his studio showed each time his cock slipped in and out of you.

“I’m gonna pain this later, put it in my private collection so I have something to keep me company when you’re gone.” The sentiment would be sweet, if your thighs weren’t twitching from overstimulation.

The head of his cock sits a punishing pace against the wall of your cervix and you try to find leverage with your feet to escape.

Rafayel hates that.

He bends you forward, cheek pressed into the cold marble and drills into you with barely controlled lust.

“Aw cutie, I was giving you a good show! But I guess even the best muses need molded.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Zayne

Zayne has finally snapped. Between the bratty behavior and the audacity you had to stick your tongue out at him during his presentation to the board, you were done for.

Bent over his desk, he didn’t care that someone could walk in, he didn’t care that you were drooling over his stethoscope that probably costed more than your rent.

“Is this what you wanted? A strong, independent young woman to be degraded like a common whore?”

Why yes, it was.

But Zayne wasn’t letting up on his solid thrusts that sent you spiraling.

He’s ripped a 4th orgasm from you and the pretty polished nails (that he paid for of course) scratched at the wood of his desk.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, lifting your face off the desk to growl into your ear.

“You don’t get to run from this punishment. Take it.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Caleb

Oh our poor sweet Caleb.

He wasn’t being very sweet right now.

How could he be? He’d caught you talking to Gideon a little too long for his liking. You were giggling all cute and shit, asking Gideon to take you on a ride in HIS aircraft!

So Caleb, being a sweet boyfriend, gave you a ride!

Well, that ride was his cock. His feet planted on the mattress while he held you in place with strong hands. His balls slapped the crevice of your ass and you were pretty sure his goal was to drive a hole straight through you.

“Smile at me like you smiled at him. Cmon Pips, cheeseeee!” His faux kindness made your eyes water. You tried to find purchase on his chest to push yourself off but Caleb swatted your hands away.

“Hands behind your back, soldier. You wanna act like a Barracks Bunny, I’ll treat ya like one.”

⋆.𐙚 ̊ Sylus

Sylus didn’t have to be fast or harsh with his punishment. But he was always thorough.

You’d ran off without his permission on a mission, yet again.

You returned to the N109 Zone covered in bruises. Now, after your wounds were tended to, he was lounging on the chaise sofa, rolling his hips into you from behind.

It would’ve been so sweet and gentle, if he hadn’t already wrenched 3 orgasms from you with his cock alone.

“Sy-“

His hand clamps over your mouth, index and middle finger grabbing your tongue. You drool over his fingers even as you try to push back on his hips to escape that feeling of lightning in your bones.

Sylus growls into your ear, taking his spit soaked finger and giving a warning slap to your flushed cheeks.

“Don’t ever run from me. I’ve chased after you for years, I’m not letting you get away now.”

[confessionsandcreampies-deactiv]

you should’ve never touched his jinki. you were just curious. that sleek, strange umbrella enjin always carried like a badge of honor. it was his and his alone. everyone said it. don’t touch the umbreaker. don’t even look like you’re thinking about it. but there you were, sitting on a bench in the training bay, fingers wrapped around the handle, trying to feel what made it hum like it was alive. and suddenly, you weren’t alone.

you felt him before you saw him. his presence was heavy, magnetic, terrifyingly calm. you looked up, and he was standing there. or more he was towering. golden eyes half-lidded and dark, his coat thrown over one shoulder like he hadn’t even broken a sweat catching you red-handed. he didn’t say anything. he stepped forward until your knees were touching his legs, reached down and took the jinki from your grasp.

that’s when his fingers brushed yours. that’s when he smiled. “you really wanna know what it feels like?”

you didn’t answer, because your mouth was already full. enjin had dropped to his knees in front of you, spread your thighs apart like he owned them and pulled your panties to the side like they were nothing more than packing scraps. his tongue didn’t tease. it devoured. flat and slow at first. one long, filthy drag that made your toes curl. then faster, more focused, his tongue circling your clit like it was the only thing in the world worth worshipping. you whimpered, hips lifting off the bench, but his big hands were already pinning you down by the thighs.

“stay still,” he murmured against your dripping cunt. “you’re not gonna run from this. not after touching what’s mine.”

your hands gripped his shoulders desperately. but enjin was in no rush. he moaned into you like you were a meal he’d been starved for, licking and sucking, his tongue sending shocks of pleasure straight up your spine.

“tastes better than i imagined,” he growled. “and trust me, i imagined it a lot.”

you were too far gone to be shocked. your thighs shook. your back arched. you cried out as the first orgasm slammed through you and enjin didn’t stop. if anything, he grinned.

he carried you like a ragdoll. lifted you into his arms, slammed your back against the nearest wall in the training bay and kissed you with the mess of your own juices still wet on his lips.

“you gonna listen this time?” he asked, his breath ragged. “or do i have to teach you again?”

you barely got out a nod before he was unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other pinning your wrists above your head. and then you saw his cock. thick and so heavy with, veined. so damn hard it looked angry, flushed at the tip and already leaking. you couldn’t even pretend you were ready for it. he noticed the way your breath caught. he felt it.

“scared?” he whispered. you nodded again. “good. you should be.”

then he dragged the tip along your soaked folds. teasing you and stretching you without even pushing in. you squirmed, whined, tried to pull your wrists free, but enjin just chuckled.

“oh no. you started this. you wanted to know what it felt like, remember?”

then he slammed in. your scream echoed through the bay. he didn’t give you time to adjust. his pace was brutal from the start, every thrust a punishing stroke that drove the air from your lungs. your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, but you couldn’t do anything to ground yourself. he had all the power, and he used it. used you.

“look at you,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder. “you’re takin’ it so fuckin’ well. you were made for this.”

he pulled back and snapped his hips again, harder, deeper, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with each thrust. you cried out, head lolling back, drool slipping from your lips as your body gave out entirely.

“that’s it,” he rasped. “let me break you in.”

somewhere between the second and third orgasm, you stopped remembering your own name. all you knew was him. his hands. his voice. his unforgiving cock that hit your g-spot every time, like he wanted you to go dumb. he fucked you through every wave until you sobbed and begged and clawed at his arms like it would do something.

“too much, enjin—please—!”

“you can take it,” he said, pressing your forehead to his. “you will take it.”

he pulled out to flip you over. he bent you over the same bench where you’d touched his jinki, your face pressed to the wood, your ass up, your legs trembling. then he slid back in so deep you felt him in your stomach and dragged his teeth down your spine to claim every inch.

“see?” he murmured. “this is what happens when you touch what’s mine. i take what’s mine too.”

his hand gripped your hair, the other pressed between your thighs, rubbing your clit with brutal precision. you came harder, faster. a scream ripped from your throat so wrecked it hurt your throat. but he didn’t stop.

you didn’t realize you were crying until he kissed the tears off your cheeks. his thrusts were slower now. each one a slow grind that hit your most sensitive spots until your whole body trembled. his arms wrapped around you, his chest flush to your back.

“that’s my girl. you took it all. good fuckin’ girl.” he whispered lovingly.

you whimpered again, boneless in his hold. then you felt his rhythm falter and you knew he was close.

“i’m gonna fill you up,” he groaned into your ear. “gonna leave you leaking for days, baby. everyone’ll know who fucked you like this.”

you tried to respond, but you only gave him weak moans and mewls and a final sob as he came with a snarl, grinding his hips down so deep it felt like he was pouring every ounce of himself inside you.

you collapsed and he caught you.

you didn’t remember how you ended up wrapped in his coat on the floor, your body still twitching, his hand stroking your thigh like you weren’t absolutely wrecked.

you blinked at him. glowing with the post orgasm glow. he grinned down at you like you were the prettiest mess he’d ever made.

“next time,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your jaw, “ask first.” then he leaned in and whispered, sweet and sinful, “or don’t. i kinda like chasing you down.”

[kingkatsuki]

Happy you liked the wb thoughts. How about gachiakuta? 🤍

yandere!zodyl uploading you in revenge porn to /pissdrinkingsluts

You guys have to stop leaving such good thirsts in my askbox lately, it makes it impossible to focus on anything else😫

Warnings: 18+, noncon, revenge porn, reader is in a relationship with Enjin now, watching porn together, voyeurism, piss (not vanilla piss Zodyl pisses in your mouth)

Sex with Enjin has always been good, a stark contrast to all your previous lovers as he handles you with such care. Care you wouldn’t expect from a hulking man covered in tattoos and piercings— but it’s as though he worries you might break, like you’re a baby dove that he cups so gently in his rough palms. And you shouldn’t complain, because he always leaves you satisfied, and he’s perceptive enough to know when you haven’t climaxed so he can fix it with his fingers or his tongue.

But sometimes you find yourself wishing he was a little rougher. Willing to explore more kinks in the bedroom together instead of the same vanilla sex that you both indulge in, perhaps a bit too much— suggesting one evening that maybe you could watch some porn together online to try and find out some different things you’re both into. The curiosity of what kinks Enjin could possibly be into is overwhelming, and it leaves you wondering if there’s anything dark and twisted that he might enjoy too—

So you settle down together, your back pressed against his chest as he sits you on his lap. Leaning over your shoulder as you scroll through the various videos that come up on the page. From mutual masturbation, to threesomes, to public sex that somehow opens a gateway to darker kinks too. With Enjin whispering in your ear as he asks whether you want him to fuck you like that— and god, you really fucking do.

But your aimless scrolling from video to video stops the moment you recognise a panel. The smallest screenshot to give a preview into the full video as you read the title:

“Filthy slut can’t get enough of guzzling piss.”

But it isn’t the shameful title that has a debauched heat rising inside your tummy as you wonder if Enjin’s eyes have focused in on the same thing— it’s the girl settled on her knees in the screenshot.

It’s you.

“I should—“ You move to close the laptop with shame and embarrassment as you wonder how to process the violated feeling that surges through you, but Enjin’s hands are quicker. Keeping the screen open as he moves deft fingers against the trackpad to click the link, the video auto-plays as he looks at you staring back at him. Those same sweet, innocent eyes that you give him whenever he’s settled above you as he slides his cock inside.

But this is different— you’re begging someone, the pretty sounds pour from your lips before a strong hand is on the back of your head to pull on your hair and tilt your head to face him. Demanding you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, which you do far too obediently. The sight has Enjin’s cock throbbing in his pants as he forgets about the questions that were on the tip of his tongue about why there’s a video to you on the internet like this.

And then it happens. Zodyl lets out a guttural groan from deep in his chest as he holds his fat cock above you, letting a warm stream of piss leak out as it splashes against your outstretched tongue, spilling down your chin and on to your naked breasts and lap as the rest pools at the back of your throat.

You’re a mess, gargling it as he degrades you on camera. Telling you how disgusting you are for being his little piss slut, and how you’d let him do anything to you, wouldn’t you?

Zodyl’s piss glistens against your skin as you feel Enjin shift behind you, brushing his growing bulge against the small of your back as his grip around you tightens. Hearing the slight hitch in his throat when Zodyl shifts his hips forward to thrust the tip of his cock inside your mouth that’s now full of his piss, making you choke and splutter as more of it streams from between your lips and down your naked body. He strokes his wet cock against your cheeks as he continues to degrade you, before he’s closing your mouth with a simple command.

“Swallow.”

You don’t even know what to say, or how to tell Enjin what that was— when it was filmed, or anything. Looking down at the views as you see the sheer volume of people that have now watched the video that Zodyl uploaded without your consent as you try to ignore the way your clit throbs between your thighs.

“Is that your ex?” Enjin finally breaks the silence as you feel a heat rise in your cheeks at the question.

“Yeah.” You murmur, eyes focused on the final screenshot on the page which is you looking completely ruined beneath him.

“Think he’s got any more?”

[rocorambles]

Coming very temporarily out of hiatus just to say, after watching the new MHA movie, I can confirm ALL the nomus would be on my hear me out cake.

[kcokaine]

Sirens