Hello, and welcome to my multifandom writing blog.
Hi everyone, my name is Kris, I’m 29 and this is an 18+ writing blog. Not everything I write will be n/sfw, but as I do plan on writing n/sfw and Dark Content, as well as interacting with such content, I would prefer there be no minors interacting with any of this blog’s posts. If I find minors following/interacting I will block them.
Currently I write for the following fandoms:
Haikyuu | Genshin Impact | Demon Slayer | Honkai Star Rail | Far Cry 5 | One Piece | Dragon Age | Dead By Daylight | Bleach | Record of Ragnarok | Pokemon | Blue Lock
You can find a list of characters I write for HERE (Mobile) or HERE (Desktop)
I write for female readers, this is because I am female and don’t know if I would write well for male readers, I can write gender neutral for some suggestions.
You can read my rules here
I have a few basic “Do’s and Dont’s” for this blog, you can find them below:
Do’s:
Make suggestions (not requests)
Be polite
Like and reblog my work
Don’ts:
Make requests/demands
Be rude / send hate / start discourse
Repost my work
The Curio Shop is OPEN, that means that I am currently taking requests from this prompt list that I posted.
Synopsis: A camping trip gone wrong leaves your boyfriend splattered across a masked, dumb serial killer.
Warnings: Blood, gore, murder, stalking, serial killer
Masked! Serial Killer X Gender Neutral! Reader
The cabin had a rustic charm to it. Wooden bunk beds, old photos from whatever teen scout club used to use it for their home base, names scratched into the bottom bunk drawers.
The slight vintage dust and scent of pine needles had lost their personality after tonight, though.
They had been tainted with fresh blood, no longer than forty-five minutes old. Bodies laid in their respective bunks, heads and stomachs blown with large, irreparable wounds in them. Only one had managed to attempt an escape, his body half lying off the top bunk bed, blood dripping from his intact head. His back, not so much.
You prayed for your boyfriend, for his stupid, sweet-intentioned self to have booked it for help once he heard the screaming. He had gone outside to take a leak, intending on grabbing your bag of forgotten toiletries from the car trunk on the way.
It had been dark, and you, whining about mosquitoes and your bare feet, begged him to grab it for your shower.
The screaming left you hidden in the bathroom, peering from out a crack as the sight of your friends were brutally chopped down with an axe, a few choking on their own blood as a hunting knife swung for their necks.
The mask peered down at you as he did it, with what you for sure took as eye contact as he finished his work without a sound. The strapped face covering was expressionless, releasing only large heaves from the mouth hole as he swung down the axe in violent slashes. Despite the work it took, his bulging body showed he was no stranger to hauling the axe up and down, shoulders wider than the door frame and rock-stone biceps rolling down beads of dirty sweat and blood.
None of you stood a chance, even if they had been given the chance to awaken as he did it.
He cupped his ear dramatically as the last of your friends’ choking died into nothingness. The room was as still as it had been before he came in, only this time with the rancid smell of death and barbarity. Swiping at the forehead of the mask-- a dull-white, tarnished thing with two eye-holes and a crudely cut line for a mouth-- he readjusted it. Blood had smeared on the side, little devil horns on the mask protruding and slick with flecks of red.
Something about his demeanor looked untouched, unbothered by the recklessness and gore you were sobbing from. His chest rose and fell as he came down from the intense workout, brushing off his loose overalls.
You were surprised to hear the young, animated voice muffled from beneath the old mask.
“Just stay riiight there. Alright?”
His voice was tinted with playfulness, keeping his hand in a ‘stay’ position as if you were a dog. He stepped outside of the loose cabin door, hearing it slam shut as his bulky, barreling footsteps fell away.
He’d see you if you ran out, there’s no way you’d manage to outrun him. There were no adequate windows to climb out of, no back doors or attic latch. You were stuck in here, waiting for this man who must’ve crawled from out of the woods to kill you.
Shutting the bathroom door behind you, you tried to calm yourself, to stop from vomiting at the sight of the scrambled meat laid on each bed. Getting beneath one of the beds near the front door you ease yourself beneath it, squishing against the wooden frame.
It was harder to breathe under here, harder to hyperventilate. It made your chest hurt, feeling suffocated as the sound of something dropping hit the ground outside.
It took you a moment to realize it, wondering if this sick fuck was tampering with your car. But your thoughts were brought back to your boyfriend, how he wouldn’t have known a damn thing from outside. You clamber to try and get out from under the bed to save him, but a kick to the cabin door leaves you frozen.
“Wheeew!” A loud sigh comes. Heavy boots knock on the wood plank floors, a squelching following as another item thumps past the door frame. It slumps forward, unbalanced as the masked killer lets go.
The sound of dripping accompanies him as he leaves the cabin door wide open, unsuspecting fireflies hovering from outside.
“Didn’t think he’d be such a runner, aye?” The man talks to the empty air, but you know who his words are meant for. “I mean, he really tried to leave you here, thinking he’d stop me by jumping in your car.”
His heavy steps barrel towards the middle of the room, axe heavy in his palm as it’s gripped between his gloved fingers.
“Good thing I plan ahead.”
Your boyfriend’s truck keys are thrown to the middle of the room, sliding into a pool of blood right past your place under the bunk bed. They were so close, so unbelievably close-- but you couldn’t give away your spot. Not when he was sniffing you out like a dog, teasing each slow step with dramatic turns of his head.
Every single action egged you on to escape: leaving the door open, throwing the keys in your view, his body unguarded as his weapon hung low.
But it was all a ploy, one you were alert enough to see through.
Through the dark you couldn’t make out the heavy thing he had left beside the shadowed doorframe, your heart racing as you wondered where your boyfriend was, what this man did to him.
But by the intense, raw and wet look of the masked man, you knew it couldn’t be good. Head to toe he was splattered, as if he just danced in a thunderstorm of blood. Droplets fell down his exposed shoulders, covering the white wife beater he wore beneath loose overalls.
The white was nearly drenched in red, clawing down his chest in bright, uneven streaks. With every step his leaded boots took, a dirty one was left in his wake.
“Unlike him, I don’t plan on hurting you,” He laughs a little, swinging the axe as he struts. “Not unless you beg for it.”
You catch sight of one of your friend’s tennis shoes left beside the bed, a plan forming in your mind. It was stupid and risky, but what other choice did you have? Wait until he found you and left you in the same fate?
Grabbing the shoe, you launched it toward the open door, watching as it nearly collided with the black heap beside the wall. The sound thumped with an echo, the masked killer turning swiftly at the sound.
Springing out from under the bed you lurch your arm forward to grab the car keys, ignoring the foul replacement of woody must to sharp blood.
You manage to grab the keys, but not before slipping in the slick puddle, red coating your bare legs and up the side of your body. Your fingertips are drenched in it as they shake to pick up the keys, scrambling to move.
“You’re too slow.”
The axe slams into the wood beside your face, blasting into the floor. It splinters the planks, rushing air towards you as the scent of salted sweat fills your nostrils.
Cold blood seeps through the back of your shirt as you fall back, terror rendering your voice hoarse and breathless.
He’s absolutely covered in blood that’s not his own, more so than you realized. It was seeping through your own clothes as he hovered from above, the smell of grass and oil and metal clinging to him.
You do all you can think of, watching as his knees come down to trap your legs beneath his. Throwing the keys as hard as you can, you aim for his head, hitting right above the mask. It collides with the dark, wet tuft of curls on his head seen behind the mask.
It lands with a thunk, almost a hollow sound resounding after the heavy keys make contact.
The masked man goes frozen, axe in hand as your palms slip in the puddle.
He’s slow to react, sitting on your knees as you struggle to pull away. With the grace of a stunned deer, he reaches up to his head in pain.
“ow…”.
The distraction doesn’t keep him stalled for long, looking back up to see your terrified glare. The killer swiftly moves to grab your ankles as you slither from beneath, attempting to crawl away.
“Oh no you don’t! Not after that little stunt--”
You scream at the sudden feeling of warm, wet fingers gripping at you, pulling you under him.
“Scream all you want! But no one’s going to save you. Least of all him.”
You think to cry out for help, to beg him to stop, anything-- but the sight of the killer’s thumb jabbing backwards catches you off guard. You follow where he points, seeing the mass heap in the moonlight. Lines of light shine upon it, displaying what you couldn’t see from beneath the bed.
It’s the headless body of your boyfriend, entrails dragged behind him, strung out of the cabin door. He’s unrecognizable, only the broken watch and flannel shirt he wore left you to understand that it was him. Was.
“What a quick errand! I thought this would take all night. I’m a little disappointed, really.” The killer muffles from behind his mask. Its open eyesockets stare through the darkness, pitch black orbs in a continuous state of wide-eyed amazement at the sight of you. “Though I can’t be one to complain-- I got my prize, afterall.”
He strokes down the tight lines of your neck, taking in the splattered dots of blood, the little necklace that had scratched your skin all night.
The axe lies heavy beside your head, threatening to chop at your soft neck if you dare make one wrong move.
“In the end, I think this was perfect for us. A meet-cute, you could say.”
Warnings: Omegaverse, Knotting
Pairing: Mydei x Reader
Summary: Kinktober Day 8: Omegaverse
Word Count: 1178
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
You had been trying to hide your designation, there was so much war and destruction, you didn't want to be a distraction or get hurt, there were so many alphas in Okhema now, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally send any of them into a rut and get hurt.
You were in the baths, relaxing after the long day, wanting to soak for a while, and maybe people watch a bit, after all there was always so many interesting people in the baths.
You saw a large group enter the baths, from their clothing and voices you recognised them as a group of Kremnoans, and at the head of their group, Mydei, the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos, and the one alpha in all of Okhema that you had a crush on.
You kept your head down, though your omega was preening at the thought of so many strong alphas around, especially Mydei.
There was a splash next to you as someone slipped in the bath next to you, the sound drew Mydei's attention and he looked over in your direction, making eye contact with you.
Your face heats up as you instinctively clench around nothing, and accidentally perfume.
Chaos immediately erupts, with alphas trying to locate you, trying to track the scent. You turn to leave, to flee the baths, and potentially Okhema.
A strong arm grabs you, dragging you from the baths, you're trying to pull away and keep a hold on your towel, not recognising the man who has a hold of you.
You're dragged into a small alcove and thrown down onto the ground. You wince in pain as the unfamiliar alpha crowns you, leaning over you, caging you in.
"Please, stop."
"Hush, this is what you're meant for." He brings a hand up to touch you, but suddenly he is airborne, thrown across the room.
You look up, wanting to know who your saviour is. And there, standing tall above you, eyes burning with a fiery fury, is Mydei.
Your face begins to heat up and you hastily rush to cover yourself when you realise your state of undress but you aren't able to do much with the small towel you had in the baths.
"Get away from my omega." His voice was a low growl, and your body begins to react to the pheromones rolling off Mydei, body heating up, and you start perfuming again.
You hear the sound of a man getting up and running away, as well as the sounds of everyone else in the vicinity clearing the area, not wanting to get in between a possessive alpha and his omega.
"Are you injured?" He knelt down next to you, slowly reaching out towards you, checking you over for any visible injuries.
You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak, too worried that you might whine for him instead, his proximity greatly affecting you.
"Good, that pathetic alpha wouldn't have been keeping his head if you were injured." His hand found your cheek, stroking it far more gently than you thought the large alpha was capable of. "Never thought I'd find my omega in Okhema of all places."
And at that declaration you do whine, unable to hold yourself back, and in a second he's on you, burying his face into your neck, taking in your scent.
You perfume again, bucking up against him, whining, trying to get closer to him.
He pins down your hips with his hands, keeping you in place, preventing you from bucking against him further.
"Control yourself or I'm gonna take you right here," at you answering whine he just smirks against you, "Oh? Is that what my little omega wants? You want me to claim you here? To have everyone hear you begging for my knot, screaming for me?"
His hand travels to your core, dipping his fingers inside, finding you already wet and wanting, pulsing around nothing, desperate to be filled.
"Hah, dripping already, such a needy little thing." He presses his fingers in deeper, crooking them into a spot inside you that had you keening loudly in pleasure.
He lightly bit at your neck in a silent reprimand.
"Quiet, this is a public area, anyone could hear you." You clench around him at his words, wanting nothing more than others to come see, to see you ravaged by Mydei, by your alpha.
"Ah, so that's what you want, eh? You want me to turn you over, to breed you, to claim you in front of everyone, so they'll all know you belong to me"
You whine against him, crying out his name, begging him to take care of you.
"Alright, I'll give you what you want."
And with that he flipped you over, tearing off the towel, and you shiver as your wet skin is exposed to the cooling air. You hear a shift behind you and suddenly you are full to the brim.
You cry out as he sets a ruthless pace, thrusting into you deep and fast. You can hear the sounds you're making, the slapping of skin on skin, the squelching of your juices, the heavy breathing, your moaning.
But you can also hear other sounds, you can hear murmuring, the shuffling, you can hear the people who came to investigate the sounds, the people watching as you are claimed by your alpha.
You can't help but clench tighter around him, moaning loudly as he hits a sensitive spot inside you.
"Please, please alpha, more, please, please, please." You buck your hips back against him, needing more, needing his knot, needing that tie that would satisfy the burning sensation under your skin.
Mydei groans in your ear, his pace quickening.
"Come on little omega, let go, come around my cock and then I'll give you the knot you want."
You whine again, pressing further into him as he picks up the pace even further, pressing even deeper into you, if that was even possible. But then you feel it, the bulge at the base of his cock growing, it begins catching on your entrance, and the pressure drives you over the edge.
You come around him, clenching so hard around him that he couldn't move even with his knot not fully inflated.
"Fuck, you've gotta relax, can't stuff you full if you're this tight." His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles bringing you to another orgasm, and then another. You collapse beneath him, nearly boneless with pleasure.
"There we go." He picks up his pace and you whine as his knot starts knocking against your sensitive areas again, as it swells even larger.
"Please alpha, knot me, bite me." You weakly buck against him, too tired for much else.
He roars as his knot fully swells, locking himself inside you, driving you over the edge of another orgasm as you milk him of his release.
He nuzzles against you neck, and you tilt your head to the side, giving him access to bit you, to claim you.
You whine when he just kisses you.
"Rest omega, we'll discuss a bite later, for now just rest."
You close your eyes, just to rest for a moment, so tired, but sleep claims you almost immediately.
Going on a week long vacation, so the remainder of kinktober/any alternate fall/Halloween stories in the works are currently on hold and will be posted later.
Warnings: Consensual Somnophilia,
Pairing: Michael Kaiser x Reader
Summary: Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia
Word Count: 708
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
It was a long day of practice for Kaiser, he had stayed late, practicing longer, and then spending a few more hours watching tapes, analysing his opponents, getting ready to crush the team they would be playing in a few days.
He should have been exhausted, but there was thrum of energy running through him still, and he just couldn't wait to get home and see you, to wrap you up in his arms, and take care of all this extra energy he had.
He enters your shared house, tossing his keys into the dish by the door, and shutting the door behind him.
Toeing off his shoes he makes a beeline for the couch, hoping to find you waiting up for him.
But you aren't there, so he heads to the bedroom, and there you are, sleeping soundly. Resting on top of the blankets, shirt riding up, barely there sleep shorts.
You're teasing him even in your sleep.
He can't help himself, remembering what you had mentioned to him before, he moves closer, lightly running his fingers along your legs, testing, trying to see just how deeply you were sleeping.
When you didn't move, continuing to sleep, oblivious to his touch, he quietly groaned, excitement rising.
He brought a hand down, palming himself through his shorts roughly. He groaned quietly as he quickly hardened, immediately ready to go.
He reached up, slowly shifting you so they were fully laying on your back, pulling down your shorts and pressing your legs open.
"Mmm, fuck," He bit back his groans as he took in your glistening pussy, so wet and ready for him, "So perfect mein Liebling¹."
He dips his fingers into your pussy, groaning again as he finds you warm and wet, so ready for him. He presses into you a few times, trying to prep you as quickly as possible, not wanting to wake you.
He leans down, kissing your clit, and about to delve into your warmth, to feast, when he noticed that you were starting to squirm.
"No, no, Schatz²," He removed his fingers and pushed himself up, "You can't wake up before we get to the fun part."
He quickly pushed down his shorts, just enough to pull his hard cock out, stroking it a few times, before positioning himself on top of you, slowly sinking in in one smooth thrust.
Buries his head in the crook of your neck, panting as he begins to slowly thrust into you, groaning at the feeling of you unconsciously clenching around him.
"Such a greedy little thing, huh?" He thrusts into you harder, "Even in your sleep you suck me in so good Schatz."
He begins to pick up his speed, groaning loudly into your neck as he feels you shift beneath him, clenching around him.
When he hears you let out a sleepy moan, he nearly looses himself, burying himself inside you as deep as he can, no longer worrying about waking you.
"Oh fuck, Micha," You moan loudly as you begin to fully wake up, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the pleasure. "Micha, more, please."
He obliges, picking up the pace and bringing his other hand down to play with your clit, quickly circling and pinching it, driving you over the edge.
He quickly follow behind you, coming undone as he felt you clenching around him.
He collapses against you, spent, and finally drained of his excess energy.
"Micha," You whine as you draw out his name, "You're squishing me."
"Mm," He hums against you sleepily, nuzzling his head against yours, "You should be thrilled that someone as amazing as me has decided you are a worthy pillow."
You lazily swat at him, and he rolls off you, bundling you into his arms, spooning you.
"You promised you wouldn't wake me up."
"Sorry Liebling, I'll be more gentle next time."
He pressed a kiss to your head as you pouted.
"You better, it's going to take me forever to fall asleep again now that I'm awake now."
You felt him laugh against you, before a hand trailed down your stomach.
"If you need me to tire you out I'm sure that could be arranged, after all I didn't get to have a taste of you earlier."
Doflamingo using his strings to force you into being his pretty little fuckdoll who puts on a show for him. Guides your hands all over your body, props you up in multiple positions to show off your quaking holes to him, cackles under his breath while you tug against phantom strings as he inspects every inch of you in the lewdest ways. Makes you fuck yourself on dildos that threaten to ruin your holes even more than his cock does. Strokes his leaking cock that only throbs harder the more you cry, the more you beg and whimper.
Warnings: Tentacles, Non Con, Breeding, Slime Monster
Pairing: Cryo Slime Horde x Reader
Summary: Kinktober Day 6: Tentacles
Word Count: 793
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
You were having a relaxing day, picking plants and gathering materials you needed in the bright crown mountains.
You spotted a cryo slime and decide that you could do with a bit more slime concentrate, after all it always comes in handy.
You leap towards it to fight, but are caught off guard by the large amount of smaller slimes that were hiding. The slimes quickly overwhelm you, and you find yourself defeated.
You're laying there, waiting for the slime to eat you, or do whatever it is they do to those they defeat when one of the small ones hops up on the middle of your back, and kind of seeps around you, pinning you down.
You try to move, to see what's happening, but you're too sore, and the position of the slime makes it difficult, it has you stuck to the ground, unable to move.
You then feel something freezing cold slithering up your leg, you try to kick out, but another small slime jumps on your leg and pins you down, followed by another, and then another.
Soon you're almost completely covered in small slimes, once you're fully immobile then the slithering feeling starts again. It begins at your calf, but steady goes higher and higher, leaving a cold wet trail along your legs as it heads for the apex of your thighs.
You jolt as you feel it begin to press against your center, no prep, no warning, just pressing straight it, shoving your panties to the side and slowly pressing into you.
It slowly presses in, firmly entering you until there is no space left, the strange chill from the tentacle causing you to shiver and clench around it.
Then it begins thrusting, in and out, developing a rapid pace that is helped along by its slimy lubricant.
Soon you feel more and more tentacles probing you, there's one at your butt, two more at your core, and one at your mouth. You try to clench, to move, to keep them out somehow, but it's all for naught and they force their way in.
You feel your body beginning to go numb with the cold, a numbness seeping into your limbs. The numbness makes you go limp, and the lack of resistance helps the tentacles speed up.
You slowly start feeling a warm sensation spreading from the tentacles, and spreading along your body wherever they touch.
Your body begins to react to the stimulation, and you writhe as much as the smaller slimes will let you, unsure if you are pulling away from, or pushing towards the sensation.
You feel the tentacles speed up, moving in and out at an inhuman pace, beating against your insides.
Suddenly your body feels like it's being frozen from the inside out as freezing cold liquid starts shooting out of all the tentacles, filling every hole you have.
Once all the liquid has been forced into you the tentacles withdraw from your holes, and you should feel the liquid seeping out of your holes and you try to cough up what was forced down your throat, though the icy liquid seems more viscous than you expected and it refuses to leave your body, stuck where the large slime planted it.
You are left exhausted as the tentacles wrap around you, confused at what is happening as the small slimes move from their positions pinning you and instead the tentacles from the larger cryo slime hold you in place.
You soon realize what is happening as the smaller slimes move to your openings, quickly producing tentacles of their own they begin ravaging you, thrusting their tentacles into you with no mercy, stuffing you full.
Too full, you think, they might break you, there's just too many of them. They're pushing in too hard, too deep, the cold numbness only adding to the pain as the smaller slimes press as far into you as they can.
Once they begin to finish you notice that there is something weird about the liquid they secrete, it reacts with the whatever the larger slime put into you and forms a solid mass, completely filling you and stopping everything that was pumped into you by all the slimes from coming out.
You are left feeling bloated and shivering as the slimes retreat.
You clothes are in tatters and you can barely move, you don't know what will happen next, but when you look down at your stomach you notice in horror that it looks like you are already 8 month pregnant, your belly large and distended.
Then you feel the movement inside you, and you worry about what will happen to you next as you notice a group of anemo slimes in the distance, slowly getting closer.
Warnings: none
Pairing: Solas x Reader
Summary: Kinktober Day 4: Outdoor Sex
Word Count: 709
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
You woke up to the crisp morning air, stretching out, and smiling as you feel your lover still laying next to you, lost in his dreams.
Solas always looks so much younger when he sleeps, the years that wear on him disappear when he sleeps.
You smile and lean over to press a soft kiss to his forehead, not wanting to wake him, you love seeing him relaxed in the mornings, still in the grip of his dreams.
You carefully extract yourself from your shared bedroll, wanting to go bathe and prepare some breakfast for when he wakes later in the morning.
The morning is still as you clean yourself in the nearby lake you had camped by. Once you finish cleaning yourself you help yourself to one of his shirts, slipping into one of his tunics as you prepare breakfast.
He eventually stirs leaving the fade, and crawling out of the bedroll in search of you.
He finds you quickly, sitting near the campfire, cutting up ingredients for breakfast.
You feel his arms circle you from behind, his head nuzzling into your neck as he whispers his greetings to you.
"Vhen'an¹."
You shiver at the rasp in his voice, still heavy with sleep.
His hands begin to wander, caressing you as they trail along your body, tracing the dips and curves.
"Did you sleep well ma'lath²?"
He hums against you, pressing kisses against your neck and you giggle as he brushes against a sensitive spot.
"Hmm, yes, I slept very well, though that is hardly a surprise when you are next to me."
Your face heats up at the sincerity in his words.
"Good dreams?"
You feel him nod against you, "They were good, though dreams hardly hold a candle to the real thing."
He slips his hands beneath the tunic, skin grazing skin as his fingers quickly descend your body.
"You look so good in my clothes."
You sigh and lean back into his embrace as his fingers find your entrance, pressing inside and drawing a soft moan from your lips.
His fingers are quickly removed and you whine slightly at the loss. He shushes you gently as he turns you around, peeling off the tunic and lowering you to the ground.
He leans forward, giving you a gentle kiss before he begins his decent with his tongue and teeth. Worshiping any exposed skin, and leaving little nips that are quickly soothed by his tongue.
"You are the only creature in the world that I could ever worship," His fingers once again found your entrance, slipping in once more, stretching you to accommodate him. "You are the only one I will ever kneel before."
You moan at the stretch and his words, you fingers finding his back, pressing yourself closer to him.
"I don't need your worship ma'lath, just your love."
"And you will have it, just as you have my heart, my love will be yours for eternity, until we both enter uthenera³."
His fingers pick up their pace as your orgasm quickly approaches. He leans up to kiss you, and swallows down your moans as you come around his fingers.
You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of him, kissing him back hungrily.
His fingers withdraw from you, and he entwines your hands together as he slowly presses into you.
You sigh in pleasure, throwing your head back at the familiar stretch, enjoying the full felling as he fully sheaths himself inside you.
He places another chaste kiss against your lips as he begins to move, thrusting into you in a lazy pace, ensuring you feel every inch of him.
His pace gradually increases and before you know it you are on the cusp of orgasm once more.
"Please ma'lath, come with me."
"Ma nuvenin⁴" His pace picks up, and one of his hands untangles itself from your grip, moving down to press against your clit.
The spark of pleasure has you clenching around him, arching your back and pressing into his thrusts.
"Please," You pant as the pleasure overwhelms you, "Please Solas, I'm so close, come with me."
You clench around him, the pulsing waves of your orgasm overtaking you, and you feel him still within you, following you over the edge.
--
Translations:
1 - Vhen'an : my heart
2 - ma'lath : my love
3 - uthenera : the long sleep at the end of ancient elves lives where they left their physical bodies and their souls journeyed the fade
4 - ma nuenin : as you wish
Disclaimer: This is a repost! I deleted then remade my blog (more on that here) and people have requested for me to repost some of my old fics as they have become unavailable due to my deletion. Enjoy :-)
Synopsis: You learn that Asa doesn't like you touching yourself, or maybe he just likes making you break down and cry on him.
Contains: afab reader, reader wears a dress, cockwarming (m e a n), noncon/forced sex, referenced torture, aftermath of torture, threats, fear play, SM elements, restraining/gagging, fingering, use of an anal plug, dacryphilia/lots of crying and it's getting Asa off, basically heed the warnings this is gross etc etc
Words: 4.2k
Asa Emory / The Collector x Favorite!Victim Reader | Bad Habits
You hadn't thought he was in the room anymore. Truly you didn't.
You’d listened to him leaving and waited until long after there was no sound outside your padlocked trunk, save for the wind battering the old hotel walls, sending dead leaves scraping along the outer pane of the securely barred and bolted-shut window that doesn’t let in any light. Your cheeks were still raw and uncomfortably dry from where the tears had been streaming. He hurt you today, worse than he hurt you all week.
He’d sedated you with something that made your limbs and eyelids heavy, but it didn’t dull the pain. Your dress came off and you were naked on the cold table. He wrapped your body in wire, starting with your arms above your head, working down to your feet, so tightly you couldn’t struggle or move, then hung you by the leather cuffs around your ankles. By the time he came back you had cut yourself from crying and thrashing and the abrasions on your stomach were dripping blood down your face and getting in your eyes. He wheeled in a mutilated, stitched-together body with far too many arms sewn to its corpse-pale torso, arranged it somewhere behind you, warned you not to move, and sat to paint the scene, in which you understood you were a prop. You did your best to hold still, even though your blood was getting in your mouth and you were starting to drown in it.
Some of the deepest abrasions needed stitches. You behaved well for him, and on occasion, he rewards you when his plans go off without difficulties. He numbed the operating area before he pulled the needle through your skin. The little curved hook pinched dully as it went in and out, and your body felt like rubber, but there was no more pain.
His gloved hands were all over you as he bandaged your injuries, caressing you as he wrapped your limbs and stomach. Though you hate it and don’t understand it, a part of you always responds to him when he cares to be gentle. The chain linking the padded cuffs around your wrists to the locked collar around your throat wasn’t long enough to reach your correspondingly shackled ankles, but it was just long enough to rid yourself of the throbbing heat between your legs.
As you touched yourself, you tried to let yourself forget where you were. You imagined you were at home, in your own room, very safe. Discreteness was the goal, but you made a lot of sloppy noise, banging your elbow every once in a while on the wall of the trunk.
You’ve been at it for minutes. Trying different spots, different paces, different numbers of fingers. And you’re not any closer to finishing than when you started.
There are two sharp sudden knocks on the wall next to your head. You jerk back so hard you knock your face on the trunk. Your hand snaps up from your legs like you’ve been burned.
You crack with a broken sob as you listen to his boots shifting on the floor, clutching shaking handfuls of your dress around your shoulders. The fabric tickles where it drapes around your bare feet and rides up over the leather cuffs locked around your bruised ankles.
His fingers scrape along the wooden trunk by your head. He traces down the corner of the lid, to the latches. Your heart plummets and then quickens so fast your temples pound with a deep aching pain; you didn’t even hear him come back in.
You know the jangling sound is his keys unhooking from his belt. The multiple locks unclick slowly, at his leisure, in no hurry to make this a brief ordeal.
The lid swings open. He kneels down, his dark silhouette obscuring the rest of the room, blotting out the harsh light in the background. His face is just out of view. You huddle away from him, cramming yourself against the back of the trunk, blinking back tears, sobbing quietly. For a few seconds that make your heart stutter, he lingers in total stillness. Inhaling, slowly.
He intertwines his gloved hands, and tilts his head down a little bit to study you.
You catch only a brief glimpse of his expression before you’re diverting your gaze to the brown leather cuffs on your feet when you see he doesn’t have his mask on, a second too late; the unreadable frigidness set into his features is seared into your mind. He doesn’t have it off much. Sometimes when he does, he makes you look him in the face.
Occasionally, his face is very stern, and occasionally, he’s smiling at you. His smile is broad and warm and gets more handsome when he flashes his teeth. One that fills out his cheekbones and wears attractive wrinkles into his eyes and the area around his mouth. Which is why you don’t like looking at him; if not for the greasepaint brushed all over his eyelids, and the fact that, somehow, his eyes are so dark you can see your tortured reflection in them like a mirror, he might be a startlingly good-looking, well-groomed man, and that makes you feel nauseous on the inside, though you’ve yet to piece together why.
“Having a nice time in there?”
A shiver runs the length of your body. You say nothing back to him. When he jokes, you find he doesn’t usually expect you to respond. He pats the floor in front of him.
“Out.”
His voice is a command and holds a certain unchallengeable sternness. But his tone isn’t overly cutting or cruel. He’s playing the patient game with you—though you suspect the outcome will be the same as if he went straight to strapping you right back down on his table. He just intends to drag this out. You’re nauseatingly certain he likes it when he doesn’t have to be cruel to make you choke up.
You shuffle slowly closer to the edge of the trunk, the chains linking your cuffs jangling, not looking him in the face, and sit with your knees huddled very tightly to your chest, hugging your legs beneath the tight fresh bandaging. The blood hasn’t eaten through the fabric yet.
“Let me see your hands.” His voice is soft, disturbingly so, growing much warmer.
You’re trembling as you hold out your chained wrists, palms up. He takes one of your hands in his firm hold, not hurting you, and looks at you there. His strong fingers are warm through the gloves. He clicks his tongue, giving your wrist a little squeeze.
You almost jerk as he leans in. He grabs the length of chain on the padlocked collar around your throat, tightening his grip until you feel his wide fist sitting at the base of your head. He leads you out of the trunk firmly, not fast enough that you can’t keep up, but you’re shaking as you slide out onto the cold floor, sinking down in front of him with your hands wrapped around your knees.
He grabs you by the jaw, and makes you look at him. His stare is unreadable at first. As he studies your face, the corners of his lips crease with something subtly, shamelessly, amused. He brushes your bottom lip up and down with his thumb.
“Were you touching yourself?”
You aren’t going to lie to him. You know better. He already knows the answer. He’s just seeing if you’re going to be honest with him.
Looking up from the neck of his sweater, meeting his dark, dark eyes, you nod, biting back tears. He squeezes your cheeks.
“Do you recall me ever once mentioning you could do that?”
You shake your head a little, sniffling harder, choking on a quiet sob.
“Use your words. You won’t have them for much longer.”
“No.” You rasp out, your voice breaking.
“No.” He agrees.
His wide hand caresses your nape as you squeeze your eyes shut and mutter shuddering, unintelligible apologies that make your chest go up and down. Sorry. You’re sorry, you didn’t know. You won’t do it again. It devolves into begging. Please not again. Not again today. Here they come again, the hot, heavy tears. He hurts you for crying sometimes but you figure if he really didn’t like it you would be dead in a glass tank downstairs.
You stagger a bit forward, squeezing the front of his thick upper arm with both hands. If you can’t steady yourself on something you’re going to topple over and you don’t want to know if that counts as disobedience.
He lets you linger there and cling to him for far longer than you were expecting. When he removes your hands, uncurling your fingers from his sweater and dragging you away by the chain tethering your wrists, the only acknowledgment he offers to your attempt at begging him is a little brush beneath your jaw, where the tears are rolling freely off your face, dampening your dress where they land.
Your dress comes off. He unhooks the silver chain linking your ankle cuffs and has you sit naked and shivering on the cold floor next to his black stool while he gets his desk ready, rolling out a large sheet of square paper.
When he orders you up on his lap you sit the wrong way at first, facing the desk, and he makes you turn around and face him, which makes you cry a little bit because now your chin has nowhere to rest but on his shoulder. A faint scent that you think is cologne clings to his neck and rolls off his sweater.
He reaches, pulling open the middle drawer in the desk. He gives your ass a firm pat with his palm.
“Sit up.” He orders.
You lean further into his chest as you lift up on his thighs. He’s re-chained your hands tightly behind your back, and stuffed your mouth with a cloth gag, which he sealed in place with a long piece of duct tape, taking his time to flatten down the edges.
You feel him drag something oval and silicone up and down the slick pooling around your labia, then up past it. You don’t fight him as he eases the wide tip inside your ass, biting down a sob at the spread. It nudges something uncomfortable and makes you feel far too full inside.
He adjusts it back and forth, giving the thin flat part sticking out of you a few taps to set it in place. You feel him hold down on the bottom.
You jerk in his lap as the pulsing vibrations start and then your world is a dizzy panic. You don’t know what that is or if it’s going to hurt you.
His hand goes to your shackled wrist when you start to struggle, fingers curling around you tightly, and you jerk and shriek once in pure reflex. His hold gets much firmer at that; his thumb digs into your wrist joint. This is a real warning. He’s sprained you before. He can do it heart-stoppingly easily. You freeze.
His fingers unfold along your jaw as he takes you by the face. He leans forward, closer to your head, so his words are muttered in the space around your ear.
“It isn’t hurting you, don’t start.”
You give one last shudder, your breaths whistling through your nose far too fast. The panic in your chest is a cold aching pain like he forced a razor blade into your gut, which you saw him do to a man once before tacking him up like artwork near the elevator wall while he writhed and screamed and died trying to vomit it up.
You sink back into his chest, stiff as a board, because there is nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, nowhere to retreat, and at the very least, his large body is warm.
He’s also hard. The thought occurs to you and you make it pass along out of your mind like a cloud. You don’t want to dwell on it. You don’t think the reason you’re still alive is that he uses you that way. But it happens. Sometimes, he makes it gentle, but you don’t think you’re strong enough to handle it even if it is. Not right now. Not with your fresh, aching stitches, not with the way he’s rubbing so carefully around them on your inner arm, recalling exactly where he sewed them in.
You shudder against him for what feels like a long time. His other hand pets your back slowly, rubbing leisurely patterns between your shoulders. You can feel his heart beating up through his chest faintly, his breaths coming in and out.
You’ve fallen asleep on him before. Often, he lets you. It’s one of those things he seems to like, like how he feeds you himself some days or washes you with his own hands every once in a while. But it isn’t going to happen tonight. You can feel the vibrations pulsing in your walls and grinding against your pelvic bones, so deep and intense it’s starting to ache. Your body is confused; you can feel yourself getting wetter.
He sketches for a minute, then he checks you there.
You shut your eyes as his hand slips between your bodies. When his gloved fingertips swirl circles around your soft skin you’re grateful for the tape because you can’t bite back the whines. He curls them in, gripping you as he works a sensitive spot against your front wall. You’re clenching hard around him, trying not to wiggle your hips.
Gradually, little by little, your muscles relax into his touch.
“There. There you go.” He comments. You can feel the words reverberating in his broad chest. He pets the back of your head, caressing your hair. “You’re really not doing yourself any favors when you lock up like that. I’m not always out to hurt you. Surely you’ve caught on by now.”
You bite down on the cloth so he doesn’t hear you sob at that.
He removes his fingers, his hand sliding up between your bodies, brushing your abdomen as he works his zipper down. When you feel his erection sitting against your lower stomach you curl your toes and hope he doesn’t comment on the goosebumps ravaging your flesh there. He doesn’t. He just pats your rear. You push obediently up on him, and his hands settle around your bandaged waist, squeezing your hips gently, mindful of the stitching, as he guides you down.
The head of his penis pressing at your entrance is too hot. You shudder and cry into the tape at the tight pop. Your muscles seize again and the stretch of him is awful. But he’s still got you by the waist, and though you’re jerking up a little by accident he’s still holding you fast and you’ve got nowhere to escape to, nowhere to go, but further down on him. The plug is making it even worse. You haven’t taken all of him before a jabbing little pain starts deep inside and the breath floods out of you. He keeps going until you’re seated on his thighs again, tremendously full of him.
Your chin has nowhere to go but back on his shoulder. You tilt your face into his neck, trying not to shift or move too much so maybe the pain subsides, and with a strained sob, muffled by the tape, you start to cry on him.
He makes a sound like a soft exhale and presses his mouth to the side of your head, whispering punctuated shushes into your hair. His warm breath tickles your nape. He doesn’t remove you from his shoulder, even when your tears and snot start to dampen the neck of his sweater.
A minute passes. He breaks the stillness, hooking a finger into the padlock on your collar. Your face twists as he prods something painful inside you when he pulls you slowly back. You blink at his expression through hot, streaming tears.
You can’t read the look on his face. It’s distressingly lukewarm, but not removed. He’s watching you very closely.
“Listening?”
His hand falls on your cheek at the question, stroking you passively, his thumb wiping your tears sideways off your skin.
You nod at him. Slowly. You are listening, but you’re very frightened, very unsure of where he means to take this.
His grip moves to your jaw, tapping a finger close to your ear, and you catch a glimmer creeping into his eyes. His expression gets a little less calloused.
“It is very important to me that I’m not distracted. That means no squirming. If I make a mistake because of you, I’m going to paralyze you from the waist down.”
You gaze at him with huge eyes, blinking once, twice, wildly uncertain if he’s implying he’s going to drug you with something or operate on you, but you know he’s being dead serious either way.
“I’m not going to have to remind you, am I?”
You shake your head at him very quickly. Tears fly down the grey tape stuck over your mouth. He lets go of your face, giving you a slow caress beneath your ear with the back of his hand, a gesture you’ve always taken to mean, very good.
He guides you into his chest again with a firm hand on your back. You tremble on his shoulder as he throbs inside of you.
The pain subsides, eventually. You just feel warm, incredibly filled, though on the outside you’re still cold and shaking at the draft in the room, your nipples stiff where they press against him. The goosebumps on your stomach haven’t gone down. The vibrations from the plug must be keeping him hard because he doesn’t seem to be growing bored. He’s been stroking the same spot between your shoulder blades for a long time, rubbing absent circles into your muscles near your spine, seeming rather immersed in his work. You think he’s drafting a blueprint. You’ve behaved so far, but everything between your legs is pounding and hot.
You wiggle your hips a tiny bit on his thighs, just shifting your weight. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t react. He keeps on sketching. A minute later, you do it again. Very subtly. Still, nothing, but he’s stopped petting you.
A minute later, you do it a third time.
His pencil drops on his desk and your heart stutters to a halt in your chest. He seizes the back of your collar so hard it chokes you and makes you sputter around the gag.
“What did I say?”
He punctuates the question with quick painful smacks on your face and then grabs your cheeks hard, pushing the muscle over your bones, watching you sternly. His face has hardened into something very unamused. You catch a dangerous glint flash across his eyes as you meet his gaze.
Your tears are flowing almost immediately. You misread the situation dismally; by not reacting, you thought he might be telling you it was okay.
He clicks his tongue once, patting the top of his thigh.
“Turn around.”
Trembling all over, you lift up off his hips, turning forward in his lap, and sit down again on his thighs.
“Nope. Wrong. Up again.”
Your stomach lurches and you feel dizzy. He’s not finished. But you don’t hesitate to obey the order, pushing up with your legs. He guides himself in again.
The pop hurts just as much the second time because you’re shaking all over. The pressure and stretch of him press up and up until you’re sitting flat against his pelvis.
One of his hands goes between your legs. You jerk a little as his fingers start to explore, rubbing the slick around your skin, and when he squeezes your clit a brief whimper rises in your throat, startling half-up off his lap.
The regret is instantaneous. You didn’t mean to do that.
He captures your ankle to the desk with his leg, holds one of your knees apart with his hand, and smacks your pubic bone hard.
You shriek into the gag like he’s taken a lighter to you. It happens again. Again. His fingers graze your clit every time.
He gives you five vicious slaps that burn your skin on the surface and leave behind an ache so deep you can feel it in your gut.
When it’s done, he pulls back on your collar. You choke on another gag that the tape won’t let out.
“Should I keep going?” His voice is dangerously stern. You can picture the look on his face. “That was your one warning.”
Your entire body locks up except your chest which heaves with your ragged breathing. You’re shuddering and clenching around him, trying not to jerk in his hand. You shake your head no at him, desperately. No more. You won’t move again. You won’t move an inch again.
“Is that so?” His fingers are sliding down again to play with the skin between your legs, not caring to be gentle with you now. “I’m thinking a few more. Really, I’m not in the mood to be offering second chances.”
He’s telling his utter truth. You sob no at him as loud and audibly as you can possibly manage, which, beneath the tape, isn’t much.
He exhales, slowly. You tremble as he rubs your stinging clit, his gloved fingertip spreading the slick around your soft skin. He’s testing you. Seeing if you’re ready to behave. You are. You are.
When you don’t squirm, gradually, he moves his hand down your leg, where he starts to caress your inner thigh. He releases the back of your collar, picks up his pencil from where it’s rolled against the wall, and returns to his work.
You watch him drag the graphite across the paper. Your tears are streaming off the tape and down your chin, down your bare chest, dripping on his lap.
He finishes the blueprint and doesn’t have to hit you again.
He zips himself up. The plug comes out of you more considerately than he put it in, but everything inside of you is swollen and hot. His hand goes to his pocket, and you see him remove a piece of black fabric with a buckle and strap from his pocket, a blindfold. You blink away tears as he fastens it over your eyes. He takes you with him when he stands, holding you securely to his chest.
You cling to him in a way you’re ashamed of as he carries you, clutching huge handfuls of his soft sweater around his arms and breathing hard into him where your cheek rests on him, but you’ve grown used to pushing the shame far away. These passing moments where he isn’t hurting you are the only thing still holding your mind together.
When he puts you down, it’s on a bed. Not the little sheetless mattress he strapped you to after you tried to escape; it’s a nice, large bed, with blankets that don’t feel cheap. It’s occurred to you before that he’s set aside some sort of room for himself here; the passage of time isn’t always clear, but sometimes, the horrible screaming from elsewhere in the hotel lasts so long you’re certain he’s stayed overnight.
The way he has sex with you is too slow to hurt. A few thrusts in and he’s dragging you further over the bed to hold your thighs. You’re curling your toes and gasping and everything in your head screams not this way, please not this way.
Before long, he stops. He takes you by the jaw, leaning in too close, and the drag of his lips against the front of your throat turns your breaths into a dry wheeze. The warm cologne on his neck fills your lungs completely. He presses his mouth to your pulse, just above your padlocked collar, and kisses you softly, the stubble on his jaw abrading your skin. He sucks and nips until you’re squirming and jerking on the mattress beneath him, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back with a fragile whine because fuck it feels wrong. Terribly wrong. So wrong it makes you sick in your stomach. But there’s no getting away from it.
He drags you up the bed by your waist and drops on you when you squirm too much, flush against your body, pinning you, kissing you harder when you struggle, punctuating the kiss with strong thrusts that shake the mattress frame. You know he’s going to mar your skin with bruises.
He finishes, and it wasn’t something you were keeping track of, but you did too, more than once. You hope that’s the end of it. You’d like to go back to your box now and sleep.
It isn’t.
He doesn’t move you from the bed when he swaps the bandaging on your waist. He rubbed up against your stitches when he was kissing your neck and made them run. His skillful hands go back and forth around your abdomen, gently. They linger after to caress your lower stomach, brushing you from hip to hip. The tape goes away, then the gag, then the blindfold. You’re crying quietly through it all, very quietly, so you don’t risk being slapped or worse, and for a long time after it’s over, alone in your dark locked trunk. He put you back in your dress, but didn’t bother to clean you up down there.
Your whole abdomen aches deeply. Your attention won’t leave the hot slick come leaking from between your legs.
His come is warm at first but cools on your legs fast where you’ve folded them beneath you, resting your head on the side of the trunk. Even when it starts to dry, though he’s left your chains long enough for it, and though you don’t think he’s in the room anymore, you know better now than to assume otherwise, so you dare not put your hands down there to wipe any of it away.
Kinktober prompts: Brat/Brat Tamer (BDSM), Spanking, Public Sex, Car sex (kinda), and Jealous/Possessive sex (phew)
Content/Warning(s): SMUT (MDNI), the use of 'Sir,' some degradation and praise, brat/brat tamer, reader is a masochist and Bo is a sadist, belt used for spanking and slight bondage, dry humping, sex out in the open/in public, is doing it on the tailgate considered car sex?, Bo is very jealous and possessive, aftercare.
A/N: does anyone out there still read/write for Bo/House of Wax? This once is a bit self-indulgent, strangly enough, even though most of whats in this aren't really kinks I'm super into! But it was fun to explore thse and Bo just felt like the perfect character, which makes it self-indulgent for me hehe. I hope you guys enjoy <3
You knew you would be in trouble the second you both stepped foot outside the dive bar.
Bo and you typically went out Friday nights for some fun and it’s usually outside of Ambrose. While you both didn’t usually go anywhere fancy, you still liked to put on a sultry outfit, with your hair styled and your face done up more. It is a treat for Bo that he loves to savor once a week. He is always grabby with you, whispering to you about how beautiful you look, but when you dress up? That is multiplied.
It’s why he is so worked up now.
The dive bar wasn’t the first idea, nor really the thing you both wanted to do tonight. But with the usual restaurant closed because of some freak flooding from plumbing, and the back up ideas a little too far for a last minute night out, you both went to the dive bar Lester recommended a while back. But the second you both walked in, you knew it would be a fun night to push Bo’s buttons and you knew how to do that perfectly.
Immediately you both noticed the stares you were getting and it had Bo on edge already. His hand stayed on your lower back as you walked through the establishment, dangerously close to your ass, and his handsome face stayed in a sour glare at anyone who stared too long. He was always the jealous and possessive type, your Bo.
Knowing this, you decided to lean against the bar to accentuate your cleavage when you ordered your drink. You smiled a lot bigger to the bartender when he served you and Bo, and giggled a little too much when the drunk man told a joke that wasn’t all that funny. By the way his hand tightens its grip on your thigh, you can tell your little show is working.
Bo grunts as his hands move to your hips and he practically drags you from your barstool to his lap, his arms locking around your waist.
“Keep this up, darlin’, I will have to punish you.” He all but growls into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. A part of you wants to submit, but the other, louder, part makes you want to keep pushing his limits. But, you stop for now, and just relax and enjoy the night with him. Even if the dive bar wasn’t the first choice, it still made for a nice night away from Ambrose.
It was later on in the evening when you decided to be a brat one last time. You manage to get yourself off his lap with the threat of ‘breaking the seal’ on his lap. After handling your business in the grimey, dimly lit bathroom you were stopped by one of the men who had been eyeing you all night.
You put on your best smile and fluttered your lashes, nodding as if you were actually interested in his drunken rambles. You never initiated anything flirtatious but you were pretending to eat up whatever this man was saying as if you were an ‘innocent, starry-eyed doll needing a man like him,’as he slurred out. You glance at Bo and can see him seething, his body tense.
You politely wave goodbye to the man, but he took your hand in his and that did it. You hear wood scrape against the floor and heavy bootsteps and the next thing you know Bo pulled you against his side with an iron grip on his hip.
“She’s mine. Back off.” Was all he said before he was pulling you out the door, leading you both to now.
Bo is storming to his truck as he drags you with him. You know you should be fearful of angry Bo. His anger is deadly. But you trust him and know his anger won’t go farther than anything you both haven’t done or discussed so far. It’s why you are pulsing with intense arousal and why your skin feels so hot despite the cold, October air.
“You just can’t help but to piss me off, huh?” He nearly shouts as gravel kicks up under his feet. You both reach his truck after a stretch of parking since he always opts to part farther away.
“I didn’t do anything, Bo.” You say with attitude, knowing it’ll tick him off more. He grunts and instead of getting you inside his truck, he takes you to the back and pops down the tailgate.
“Didn’t think I caught you battin’ those pretty lashes at the men in there? Or the way your tits were out there for everyone?” He fumes as he turns you away from him before he presses your stomach against the tailgate. “Now bend your pretty self over, sweetheart.”
“Bo…” Your voice trails off before you feel one of his hands press on your upper back, making you bend over. You were silently glad he decided to back into his parking spot, facing the front of his truck towards the building. “What if someone comes out?”
“Then keep those sweet lips shut while I spank your ass.”
You feel his calloused hands slide up your thighs before he is pushing up the hem of your dress over your hips. Immediately his hands move to your cheeks and he slips his fingers under your lace panties you wore just for tonight. He grips your flesh firmly with a groan as he looks over the sight of you bent over like this under the night sky.
“I was thinkin’ about giving you a choice, you know? But then you just had to stand their talkin’ to that man.” Bo tsks and you hear the metal of his belt jingle as he unclasps it and you feel your pussy clench around nothing. “So you’re gettin’ the belt, sweetheart. And I want you to count each one I give you.”
You whimper a weak response and jolt when he lightly taps one of your cheeks with the leather belt.
“What was that, darling?” He challenges you. You know what he is wanting and you decide to give in now to get what you truly want.
“Yes, sir.” You squeaked out and he chuckled behind you.
“Oh, so now you want to be a good slut for me?” He laughs again and you yelp when you feel the stinging pain of his belt spanking your ass. “Count, baby.”
“One.” You moan softly, letting your head fall down and rest against the cold metal of his tail bed. He spanks you again and his free hand is quick to soothe over where his belt landed. “Two.”
Another strike hits, this time on the opposite cheek. “Three.” He takes a few seconds, his hand caressing the spot before it slides away and the belt comes down again. “Four.”
Again and again, Bo brings his belt down onto each of your stinging cheeks. You jolt and do your best to not cry out loudly, though you doubt the people the dive bar would even notice at this point. You whimper out number after number, your lips wobbling as tears spill from your eyes. You were sure your panties were soaked through at the wetness you feel slowly sliding down your inner thighs.
“Shh… You had enough, darlin’?” He asks in a low voice, setting his belt beside you. His hands both caress each stinging cheek with gentle reverence that he didn’t have while spanking you. You swallow thickly and give him a nod. “Use your words.”
“I-I had enough, sir.” You stutter out.
“Will you be good for me?”
“Yes… Yes, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He murmurs and leans over you. You feel him press his bulge against your soaked panties and you whimper. He starts to rock against you with a groan for a few seconds, enjoying the friction of clothes. He can feel a wet patch in his own boxers forming from his pre-cum as he slowly grinds against you.
“B-Bo…”
“I gotcha, darlin’, but I don’t think I can give you more foreplay right now.” You start to whine before he tuts, his hand grabbing his belt. He brings it down on one of your throbbing asscheeks again making your cry out this time. “Bring your hands to your back.”
You shiver and comply. Bo loops the belt around your wrists tight enough to where you can’t get out of them. They dig into your skin slightly but aren’t tight enough to truly hurt you. He shoves his own pants and underwear down just enough for his cock to be free. He pulls your underwear to the side and runs his thick tip through your folds before sinking inside your heat.
“O-Oh, God.” You moan out as he slowly stretches you out.
“This is gonna be rough and fast because my patience is thin and I need to remind you who you belong to.” He grunts as he bottoms out inside you. “You know what to say if it gets to be too much.”
You mutter out a soft ‘yes, sir’ in response as he slowly pulls almost all the way out until just his tip is inside you.
Then, he snaps his hips forward against your still stinging ass. You moan loudly, unable to help yourself this time and Bo grunts. One of his hands grips his belt binding your wrists while the other grips your hip harshly.
Bo starts to fuck you in earnest. Your upper thighs and hips bang into the gate, the truck creaks slightly with each thrust he gives you. You can’t move at all with how he has your wrists bound behind your back, and you love it. You love when he loses control all because of you. It hurts, but it's a pain you enjoy when it is with Bo.
“That's it…” He groans out as he pounds into you. “You know how to get me so worked up… know how to push me.”
You moan out again, not bothering to suppress your pleasure.
“Let the bar know you're my slut. My girl who only I get to fuck.” He growls, his hips unrelenting. His eyes stay focused purely on you, taking in your body language and your cries. “My little brat who needs to be reminded how to behave.”
“I'm yours, sir.” You cry out, feeling yourself on the cusp of release. Bo can feel your walls tightening aroumd his cock and he can tell by the way you're moaning your close. He pulls you away from the truck enough to slip his hand underneath you, his fingers finding your clit with ease. He pinches and rolls the swollen nub as he keeps his thrusts deep and punishing.
You don't need to be facing the sky to see stars as you cum hard with a broken cry of his name. Your inner muscles spasm around his length and you hear him start to moan. He tilts his head back as his pace stutters and his rhythm is off. You feel heat flood you as he comes deep inside, moaning as his hips jerk for a few moments.
You loved how vocal he is when his orgasm hits.
You both are left a panting mess on his tailgate. Your body feels wrecked yet you're well pleased. Despite taking the punishment, you've won tonight.
“How you feelin’, baby?” He asks, sounding breathless yet soft.
“So good.” You mumble as your walls still pulse, though slowly, around his cock, milking him for all he has.
“Pain?”
“Yeah. It's okay though.”
He stays inside you for a few moments longer before slowly pulling his softening cock out. A trail of his cum leaks from you but instead of bothering to clean it up, he moves your panties back in place. Bo backs away and leans down to place gentle kisses to each of your asscheeks, as if to kiss away the dulling sting.
“You did so good, darlin’.” Bo mumbles and carefully unwraps his belt. He helps pull your dress down after tucking himself back into his pants. He is gentle in helping you stand back and lets you lean against him as your legs shake. He pushes the tailgate back up with one hand and starts to guide you to the truck cabin. You start to shiver as the heat of your shared passion wears off and all you feel is the cool night air on your sweaty skin. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”
Bo's hands are on your hips as you manage to get in the truck, though it hurts a little to sit on the seats. He is quick to get into the driver's side and starts the engine, turning the heat up a little for you both. He looks at you and that jealous gaze is gone and it's just that sweet Bo he only shows to you. You know you're in for some good aftercare when you both get home. Even if it's late, you know Bo will stay up to take care of you.
“You sure you're good?” He can't help but ask again.
“It hurts to sit but I feel great, baby.”
He rolls his eyes but the concern is still there. “Come here.”
He practically pulls you against him, making you sit facing him while on your hip. He tucks your head under his chin and wraps one arm around you while the other grips the stirring wheel.
“I don't think this is safe driving.” You chuckle as his hand briefly moves to change gears.
“I don't think I really care much. I just want you comfortable.” He grumbles, sounding moody but that's just how he is. You laugh again and relax against him as best you can.
You don't remember falling asleep but you awake in Bo's arms as he carries you up the stairs. He is quick to shower and dry you both before getting into bed without clothes. He whispers dirty promises of soft, loving sex in the morning while his fingers trail briefly up and down your spine. He is always so soft with you after such rough sex.
You fall asleep again in his embrace, with his face buried into your hair.
Warnings: Kidnapping, Drugging, Alien Abduction, Breeding
Pairing: Oikawa x Reader
Summary: Kinktober Day 3: Alien Abduction
Word Count: 2025
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
You were having a good day, it was a normal Tuesday, you went to work, and on your way home you stopped at a convenience store for a quick snack to tide you over until you made your dinner. They even had your favourite snack in stock, so it was edging towards being a great Tuesday.
Your great Tuesday was abruptly interrupted when a bright green beam of light enveloped you, drawing you up into the sky.
You came to later on a cold metal slab, hands and feet bound, strange things connected to you, what looked like IVs in your arm.
Naturally, you begin to panic, thrashing about as much as the restraints allow you, tugging and pulling as much as you can.
The machines around you started to emit a strange noise, and a strange alien creature came racing in. It completely ignores you and begins looking at the screens in the room, eventually it pushes a few buttons and you feel a calming sensation.
You laid there, concerned, but strangely calm thanks to whatever drug they had just given you. The creature circled you, observing and writing notes, poking and prodding at you at times.
Eventually it picked up some tools and began dragging them along your body, strange symbols flashed sporadically, and the creature made note of each one.
While it examined you, you examined it, it looked nothing like you had ever seen before.
It's skin was a translucent blue, and you could see what must have been it's internal organs through the skin, though it looked nothing like the structure you knew.
It stood on two legs, yet had four arms. It's face was oblong and had no eyes that you could see, though there were several slits along its face that moved on occasion, you weren't sure what they were for. You also couldn't make out any nose or mouth.
The creature seemed done with its observations/ testing/ whatever it had been doing, it placed the implements and notes down before leaving the room. It returned quickly, with another few creatures, they all looked over the information, chittering amongst themselves.
They all seem to come to an agreement about the data. A few more buttons are pushed and you feel yourself calm again, but also something else that you can't quite place. All the creatures leave, and you are alone for a few moments.
You hear the doors open again and the most beautiful creature you have ever seen walks in.
They look almost human, certainly a different species from the others, if it wasn't for the blueish skin and the fact you were clearly on an alien ship you'd almost think him human.
"I see my servants did well preparing you."
The voice startles you, it sounds nothing like the creatures that were here before, practically human, though there is some distortion to it. You're so shocked by how he sounds that you nearly miss the fact that he was speaking your language, that you could understand him.
Noticing your surprise he laughs, turning to pick up a small screen and bringing it near you, scanning your body.
"We placed a chip in your mind while you slept," He presses a cool fingertip to your temple, "you'll be able to understand what I say, but you'll only be able to communicate with me."
The smile he gave you after his explanation seemed almost predatory.
"Who are you, why are you doing this, what is happening?" You have too many questions, and they all kind of blur together as your words slur, unable to properly move your body, whatever drugs in your system making you sluggish.
He comes closer, gently running a hand along your torso, your stomach contracts at the cool temperature of his fingers, instinctively shrinking away.
His smile turns to a small frown as he pulls his hand away.
"My kind is dying out." He sets down the screen and brings a hand up to your face, forcing you to look at him, "We evolved to the point where our women couldn't carry pregnancies. No one is sure why, so we started looking for suitable hosts."
His other hand starts to trail up your leg, before coming to a stop on your inner thigh.
"And you humans are such a hardy bunch, you should be proud, your species made the top 10." His hand on your thigh starts to inch further upwards, "We're just finishing the final experiments to see which crossbreeds produce the best results. I myself am part of the first round of experiments I had a human mother, it's why I look so different from the others"
You flinch as his fingers touch your lower lips, the touch barely there, but you're shocked when you react, nearly moaning at the contact.
His smile grows when he notices.
"Now with most species we simply inject our sperm into the host womb, it's quick and efficient. But," He dips his fingers in deeper, prodding against your inner walls, dragging an involuntary moan from your lips, "But your species seems to enjoy the act of breeding more than the other species we have encountered, and you're able to take so much."
His fingers increase in speed, and your face burns as you hear the loud squelching sound, the proof of your arousal.
His fingers change position slightly, brushing against a spot that has you moaning and nearly bucking your hips towards his hand, seeking more pleasure.
You are right there, just on the cusp of release when he pulls his hand away, bringing it up to his face, observing the juices coating his fingers.
"So we'll be doing things a bit differently." His tongue darts out to lick at his fingers, and he lets out a low rumble at the taste.
He presses a button and the restraints holding your legs shifted, pulling your legs up and towards you, giving him unrestricted access to your body, baring you to him completely.
He disrobes revealing 2 strange appendages. Two writhing tentacle like dicks protruded from where a cock should be. You can't help but stare in fear, (and if you were being honest a bit of curiosity).
His grin grown when he takes in your expression, one hand coming down to stroke his appendages.
"Don't worry, you're going to love this, I'll up your relaxant a bit and it'll all fit just fine." You hear a few soft beeps as he presses a few buttons and you feel your muscles relax, practically melting into the metal table.
You jump a bit at the feel of the head of one dick pressing against you, easily slipping inside thanks to the lubricant it seemed to excrete, and your own juices.
You hear a moan above you, and see hi standing above you, eyes closed, head thrown back in pleasure.
"So tight, your kind is meant for this."
You feel the second one pushing in, the lubricant and relaxants helping ease it's entry.
"Your kind is so strange, only one breeding arm, our kind has two, each secrete a different type of sperm, when the two mix inside a females womb then it'll take, if only one is used then procreation is not possible."
He looks down at you, smile growing as he sees your joining. "But don't worry we're using both, you'll be filled to the brim with my essence."
The second one fully seats itself and you can feel both of them moving inside you creating a strange sensation they press against a spot inside you that has you keening, pressing fully into him, wordlessly demanding more.
"Oh? You're enjoying this already? Good."
He pulls out, pressing in again, faster and harder this time as the appendages move around on their own inside you. The strange sensation quickly becomes overwhelming, and you feel your orgasm that had previously been denied quickly approaching once more.
You cry out in pleasure as you come around him, squeezing his appendages tight, clenching around him as you come undone.
You hear him moan above you, his thrusts growing faster in pace.
"Mm, so much better than the last one."
He thrusts deeper, his appendages pressing against your cervix.
"It's like you're made for me."
He keeps thrusting, quickly dragging another orgasm from you, and sending you towards another, the sensations becoming overwhelming.
You try to push against him.
"Wait, please," You begin to pant, the sensations overwhelming you, "Please, slow down, it's too much."
He simply laughs, thrusting into you harder, his pace not slowing down one bit.
"This is the one drawback to humans, your kind doesn't have the stamina needed for copulation, our kind mates for hours, this is only the beginning, my little toy, so you just lay back and enjoy."
He keeps going and you come over and over again, the orgasms wash one into another, and you don't know when one stops and another begins.
You start to lose track of time, and every time the pleasure starts to edge into pain he presses a button and suddenly your floating again, ready to take more, begging for more.
Finally after hours of mating he begins to slow and you silently rejoice, that it is nearly over. But then you feel something strange, increased pressure, and you realise that his appendages are swelling.
"Wait please," Your voice is cracked and tired from overuse, you try to squirm away, but it's impossible.
"Stop" It's the firmest command you've heard him give, and you instinctively pause.
He presses the button again and you relax around him, the stretch lessening as you relax to accommodate the increased size of his appendages.
"You'll be fine, the scans earlier ensured that you are capable of stretching to accommodate me, and it fit in all the others, it'll fit in you."
He rolls his hips again, stuffing you full.
"Just relax and take it."
His appendages continue to grow in size until they are stuck inside you, unable to move, barely wiggling inside you.
You wait, expecting his release soon, and then it will be over, and you idly wonder if they'll put you back home after this, or will this be your life from now on?
Then you feel the tips begin to move, stretching towards your cervix.
You cry out in a mixture of fear and pain as he bullies the tips of his appendages into your cervix. The medication from early dulls the pain a bit, but it's still sharp and unpleasant.
You expect him to push the button again, to take the pain away, to calm you down. But this time he doesn't push the button, instead leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, before kissing down your face, licking away the tears that were forming.
"You can take it, just relax, and let me in a bit further."
He rocks his hips a bit, spearing himself into your further, you arch you back as much as you can, trying to get away from the painful sensation.
You feel a new pressure in your abdomen, higher up than before, and realise he is depositing his seed directly into your womb.
It quickly becomes uncomfortable as the liquid fills every inch of your womb. You feel bloated and see a noticeable bulge as he begins to withdraw his cocks from you.
You are left panting on the table, as he presses a button and your legs are lowered back to the table.
You pant in exhaustion, feeling as though you may pass out, head rolling to the side.
He comes to stand near you again, and you notice that he has his clothing back on. He leans down by you, reaching out a hand to stroke your head, his touch gentle and soothing.
"Rest now, we'll see if it takes, if not we'll try again."
Your eyes begin to flutter closed, exhaustion taking a hold of you.
The last thing you hear before you drift off is him musing about how he's certain you could take two at once and something about an Iwa, whatever that is...
You walked in on Douma having a meal, so you proposed a more sensual rather than tasty offering of your flesh...
“Hm?” Douma uttered, head tilted almost cutely to the side like there wasn’t dried human blood on his lips.
The five bodies of his female worshippers littered the room. Some cleaned to their skeleton, others only half-eaten.
You braced yourself for his answer to your proposal.
Well, it’s not like you were strong enough to do anything about it if he rejected you. You only joined this crazy cult to escape another day starving on the streets, and you had never wielded a sword. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the true nature of this cult’s leader.
“Oh, what a brave sacrifice!” Douma finally proclaimed, eyes shiny with tears that couldn’t possibly be genuine.”But you see, that’s not as appealing as the taste of your flesh.”
Before you could even look at the door, firm hands planted on your shoulders from behind.
“Oh, but you’re trying your best aren’t you? So hopeless! So tragically weak and hopeless, yet you refuse to give up! Ah, my heart swells with sympathy,” his voice rumbled from behind, slathered with fake pity.
No normal human could move that fast. Well, the state of the deceased women before you was a clear indicator that Douma wasn’t a “normal human.” You barely blinked and he closed a ten foot gap in less than a second. This was a warning.
“Such desires left with my humanity so long ago, but you couldn’t have known that. Ah, poor you!”
What you had, stupidly, proposed was a more sensual rather than tasty offering of your flesh. It’s not everyday you encounter a demonic cult leader partaking in his latest meal. Not that you meant to, of course. So many rooms and so little preparation for what you could possibly discover within the Eternal Paradise Faith temple. You panicked and offered the only thing you had on you that didn’t lead to immediate death: your body. Becoming a demon’s sex slave in exchange for your silence sounded better than being ripped to shreds and eaten.
You desperately tried not to retch as a clawed hand carded through your hair.
“Don’t be scared, I’ll help you reach eternal paradise–”
“How do you know you don’t have these desires anymore?” you interrupted, all in one breath. Desperation gnawed at you.
Silence permeated the room. The clawed hand paused in your hair.
All at once, Douma appeared before your eyes again, hands grasping your upper arms, trapping you in place.
“My my, as if miserably offering your body wasn’t brave enough, you now ask a man how he knows he doesn’t yearn for sex? Oh dear, perhaps ‘brave’ was the wrong word to use. You’re hopelessly stupid!” he chuckled, multi-colored eyes never leaving your own.
“... Have you tried?” you challenged. If you were going to die here, you might as well die trying.
Douma’s smile faltered.
He hadn’t.
Kibutsuji Muzan made it abundantly clear the existence of demons was solely to serve him. Consume human flesh for strength, hunt for the blue spider lily, eradicate the Demon Slayers– sexual desires did not fit into his plan. Then again, neither did Douma’s twisted hunger for female flesh and Akaza’s blatant disdain for it, despite the benefits. He supposed free will, albeit non-directly beneficial to the Master’s cause, did exist.
An unfamiliar ache below also spiked Douma’s curiosity. He always viewed humans as food, and like most normal people, he did not wish to sleep with his food, but when such an opportunity presents itself…
“Your final, feeble attempt at life has moved me! I shall–”
A hand cupping his lower appendage ended with your back slamming against a wall you had previously been 15 feet away from, not hard enough to break anything, thankfully.
“Impatient, are we?” Douma mused.
A clawed hand ripped your remaining clothes off with dangerous precision, not a slice on your untainted skin present.
Your heart was beating out of your chest and you were sure Douma knew it. Making yourself as appealing as possible was the last chance you had to prolong your fate, so you obediently glued your hand to your side.
A blush crept to your ears at being stark naked before such a beautiful man, all things considered.
Two fingers suddenly gripped your chin, forcing it upwards.
“Good girl,” Douma muttered before slamming his lips onto your own.
You had zero experience to back this proposition of yours. Hell, you had seldom been courted, but the way Douma’s tongue moved made you question if the man truly hadn’t done anything like this recently. He was far too skilled.
Air you didn’t notice was stolen suddenly filled your lungs as a knee shoved itself between your legs, the tips of your toes still barely on the ground.
Douma’s lips danced with your own, his tongue being granted dominance you were far too eager to give while clawed hands began exploring the expanse of your body.
A hand planted itself on your hips while another began palming at your bare breast.
The uncontrollable moan Douma had elicited from you snatched his interest.
“More… I want to hear more of that,” he said, teasing your nipple now.
Your heavy head fell forward onto Douma’s shoulder at the motion. Barely anything was happening and you were already moaning? God, he probably thought you were a whore… well, it’s not like that mattered anyways.
Something muffled next to your ear, was Douma saying something?
“What?” you asked, lifting your head.
The hand once gripping your hips left to trail your face, sharp nails tickling your jaw.
“This is no time to feel dizzy, darling, I’ve barely started with you. I asked, would you have offered yourself to me if you didn’t think you were on the brink of death?” he repeated, suddenly diving for your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys and lovebites in his wake.
Each suckle of his lips sent you reeling. Bites that would’ve had you terrified moments ago only further dampened your cunt.
You nearly forgot he asked anything before a sharp pinch of your nipple brought you back to reality.
“I don’t– I don’t know?” you stuttered, unsure why he was even asking.
“Wrong!” he declared, biting you hard enough to draw blood. “My followers are always so loyal. ‘Yes, Lord Douma,’ ‘Of course, Lord Douma,’ they’d say, but you’re different. Why are you even here?” he asked, greedily lapping up the trickles of blood.
Should you lie? This guy probably has some insane worship kink from all his years being the idol of a cult, but you were also sure he could tell if you weren’t being completely truthful.
“L-lord Douma, I–”
“Just call me ‘Douma,’ you clearly aren’t a true follower of mine.”
Struggling to come up with a decent response that didn’t result in your immediate demise, lips covering your own preventing you from speaking.
The taste of your own blood on his lips was far more titillating than you cared to admit.
“My, how pathetic your story must be! Getting caught up in a faith you don’t believe in only to end up helpless at the hands of the very god you don’t follow. Pitiful, so pitiful,” he deemed, featherlight kisses peppering your face.
“You don’t seriously think you’re a god, do you?” you couldn’t help but snap. Maybe this would get you killed, but you couldn’t deny feeling at least some sympathy for the truly hopeless members of the Eternal Paradise Faith. They truly believed someone as monstrous as Douma was worthy of reverence.
A dangerously wide smile stretched across his cheeks.
“Of course not, but it’s fun to imagine isn’t it?”
You barely registered the shift in movement when suddenly Douma looked down on you from above. Your back now pressed against the cold floor, goosebumps tickling your skin in its wake.
“Perhaps you– oh,” Douma paused, observing the very obvious pool of arousal on his knee. “For a non-believer, you sure are sensitive to my touch,” he ultimately remarked.
Your eyes shamelessly latched onto every new curvature of bare skin revealed as Douma disrobed himself. For a very ungodly being, he surely had the looks to rival one.
Before you could blink, you were abruptly thrown into his nude lap. You didn’t dare peek at what awaited you below, not when he was looking at you like a predator finally scoring his prey.
“For someone who claimed to not yearn for sex, you sure seem to be enjoying yourself,” you dared to utter. Sure, you didn’t take a peek at its full glory, but it was impossible not to notice the erection in your lower peripheral vision.
A thumb you didn’t notice creeping suddenly teased your clit.
“For someone trying to live, you sure talk back a lot,” Douma argued.
Wondering if offering your flesh to this monster was a mistake, you couldn’t help but bite back all the noises your body craved to make.
You swung your arms behind you to hold your body up, distancing yourself from Douma as much as you could while a cold finger prodded your entrance.
“Don’t be shy now,” Douma started. “I told you I wanted to hear more of you.”
A finger with a thankfully retracted claw entered you, whimpers refusing to escape clenched teeth erupted from your throat.
Maybe you were an idiot for offering sex and then feuding with a being who could kill you in an instant, but you figured pushing your luck couldn’t hurt more than death. The hope of escaping this room alive faded the deeper Douma buried his finger in your sopping cunt.
A second finger had your arms trembling, growing weak at holding up such a tortuously pleasured body.
Douma set an impossible pace as his fingers curled into you, unforgiving in his pursuit of your noises.
A new sensation rolled over your stomach.
Wandering the streets throughout your life, you’ve heard plenty of strangers’ conversations. You recalled a particular one between giggling courtesans describing what it means finally release; to let go of that last strand of dignity. Something below would wound itself tightly, begging to snap. Your entire body would be flooded with indescribable pleasure and women lucky enough to feel this sensation would find themselves addicted. What was the word those courtesans used? It was something quite improper…
Tears pricked your eyes. “I’m– I’m gonna–”
And the fingers relentlessly pumping into you stood still.
Anger flooded your being and the noise of discontentment that left your lips only deepened Douma’s smile.
“Tsk tsk, I told you I want to hear you, but here you are covering your noises.” His fingers left you completely and were shamelessly brought to his lips, tasting you. “Go on and beg the god you don’t believe in for a sweet release, yeah? Go on, use your words.”
Strength you didn’t know you had coursed through your arms. You found yourself shoving Douma to the ground, now straddling his stomach.
Douma wasn’t threatened in the slightest.
“Giving up this game already? Aw, you were a cute one too!”
Despite his vague threat, Douma did nothing but watch as you backed off his body and positioned yourself between his legs.
“Hm? Unless you’re prostrating, that’s a strange position to beg from.”
If Douma was going to be a dick, so were you.
“Hey, did you hear me? Because I don’t hear any pleas.”
Speaking of dicks, you abruptly grabbed his and shoved your throat down as deep as possible. The pain was worth whatever strangled noise Douma let out.
You didn’t have a demon’s speed or stamina, but you did have Douma’s full attention as you sucked his dick at an agonizingly slow pace, using your hand to make up for what your throat couldn’t reach.
“Is this– what, are you mad I asked you to beg? What a strange punishment–”
Darting out your tongue, you licked up the full length of his shaft, swirling around his tip. Eye contact unbreaking as you sped up.
It was Douma’s turn to bite back a delighted moan and suddenly you understood why he was so eager to hear your own.
You pumped him faster and a lewd mix of precum and your spit dribbled down Douma’s cock.
Tears clouded your vision. The members of his cursed cult were right to think Douma had been blessed by the gods, but wrong to think it was only his eye color that proved it. His thick cock made your jaw ache and you almost feared what it would do to your insides. Did something like this even fit inside a normal person?
The noises Douma couldn’t hold back spilled from his pretty lips and filled your attentive ears. It wasn’t hard to figure out what Douma liked when he was so vocal.
He sounded close, whimpers barely audible indicating whatever you were doing was pleasurable. Before you had the chance to reel back and torture him the same way he did to you, a clawed hand rested atop your head.
“Darling, you didn’t really think you had control here, did you?” was the last thing you heard before he slammed your head to the base of his cock.
He fucked your throat raw. You almost wondered if this was how Douma was going to kill you, forcibly suffocating you with his impossibly girthy dick.
He wasn’t close, that asshole just wanted to tease you with the idea of winning.
Consciousness nearly left you before Douma abruptly dragged your face up to his own. You fumbled to stabilize yourself, straddling Douma again to avoid him scalping you with the firm grip he held on your hair.
“I find that pretty little mouth of yours is also quite pleasurable when it’s wrapped around my cock. Tell me, would you rather I bury my dick in that delicious throat of yours, or should we try something more… mutually beneficial? All you need to do is use your voice.”
You weren’t even trying to be stubborn this time, but you could barely find your voice amidst its recent abuse.
You barely parted your lips before the world turned around you. Douma’s beloved eyes studied you from above, an unexpected plush feeling enveloped your back before realizing he must’ve moved you both to a bed.
Two fingers shoved into your opening this time, far less gentle than his original prodding.
“Hey hey, are you getting shy now? Surely you can’t,” a third finger pounded into you, “be changing your mind now, hm?”
You couldn’t speak if you tried. Besides your throat being fucked raw, all you could do now was helplessly whine at the violent ministrations happening below.
Douma pecked sweet kisses across your neck and shoulders, his own voice impossible to miss as it rumbled right next to your ear.
“Come on now, you can’t tell me you’d rather me fuck your poor mouth instead of your desperate cunt, can you?”
His breath tickled the shell of your ear.
“I mean, you’re already this wet for me, but perhaps you’re a masochist.”
His fingers withdrew from you once more and you bit back a scream.
“I could always use your mouth all for myself, but then what about your own pleasure? Ah, but if remaining untouched through this ordeal is what you prefer–”
“No, please,” you choked out.
“There’s that lovely voice of yours!” Douma cheered. “Are you going to beg for what you really want? Go on! Go! Go!”
An incoming snide remark was interrupted by Douma’s dick rubbing against your bare folds. Slick coating the long length as he moved, patiently waiting for an answer.
“Please, fuck me,” you muttered through gnashed teeth.
His thumb moved to abuse your clit.
“What? I thought we were already in the midst of intercourse. I’ve fingered you twice now and you shoved my dick down your throat. Did you want something more than that?” His smile looked anything but innocent.
“Douma– fuck, please just fuck me.” Your face burned with the strength of a thousand suns. “I need you in me, bad. I– I’ve never been touched before, and I’ll give my body to you wholeheartedly.”
You cringed. It was true you were a virgin, but to utter such distasteful things to a man you’re not married to, nonetheless even courting…
The tip of his cock teased your entrance, coated with your arousal.
“What a cruel woman you are, lying about the ‘wholeheartedly’ part, but that doesn't matter. Virgin or not, no other man will ever pleasure you like this,” Douma declared, easing himself into your cunt.
You didn’t dare hold back your noises this time, fearful he would deny you another orgasm.
What started as whimpers of pain grew to sobs of pleasure as Douma’s cock stuffed you full, reaching far deeper than his fingers ever did.
“You’re taking me so well,” he cooed from above. “ I fully expected this to break you in two.”
Before you could decide if he was being serious or bragging, cold lips enveloped your own.
Kissing a demonic cult leader in the midst of him fucking you at a pulverizing pace felt a little more romantic than you were prepared for, all things considered, but you supposed you should be grateful. You were still surprised this plan even worked and Douma didn’t kill you immediately for interrupting his meal. At least you could leave this world saying you had great sex.
Shameless moans and broken pleas echoed off the walls, the sound of wet slaps against soft flesh filled the space.
You thought your insides might burst from such a large object penetrating you, but you couldn’t deny adoring feeling so full.
Nails nowhere near as sharp as Douma’s claws rippled down his back, bloodied scratches healing again and again at your pitiful attempts.
“I can’t mark you,” you decided, breaking the kiss.
Douma chased your lips, almost failing to notice you said anything at all before you continued.
“My neck is a mess, there’s a bite mark on my shoulder, and god knows what my hips look like with those claws of yours,” you whined, a sharp grip on your sides reminding you just how bruised you’d be after all this. “And I can’t even scratch you.”
“My, you almost sound possessive darling,” Douma said, piercing a spot that had you seeing stars.
“I’m– fuck! I’m going to be a mess after this and you’ll still look untouched.”
Vanity wasn’t your strong suit, but you couldn’t help but mourn for your mottled skin. Well, you probably wouldn’t leave this room alive, so it shouldn’t matter too much.
“Your mark won’t be physical, but I promise you’re the first person to see me in such a state as a demon,” Douma purred, your walls threatening to trap him in at his words.
Douma, noticing this, picked up to a pace you didn’t think was possible, even for him. A hand bruised your hips from the constant squeezing while the other lightly wrapped around your throat. His thumb mindlessly grazed over your jugular vein.
“Ah, so the idea of exclusivity gets you going? How adorable! How pathetically adorable!”
You didn’t have the strength to utter a response as Douma pounded into you. Your mouth lolled open and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head; your face was the textbook definition of being fucked out of your mind.
“Wow~! You look so adorable like this,” Douma praised.
You felt your body nearly give out when Douma shifted positions once more. His cock never left your desperate pussy as you were suddenly on top of him.
Eager hands planted themselves on your hips, pushing you to grind while Douma was otherwise unmoving.
“Why– why did you stop?” you managed to squeak out.
Douma almost unnoticeably grunted when your walls squeezed him. You both ached for motion.
“This was your idea, darling. Surely you can’t expect me to do all the work, right?”
What would’ve sounded like a cocky taunt was dramatically undermined by the look on his face. For a man threatening to eat you instead of fuck you not too long ago, he sure seemed eager.
… Or maybe he was eager to get this over with so he could finally eat you? Well, you figured you’ve had your fun. Might as well finish this off with a bang.
A sharp motion of your hips caused a moan to explode from your exhausted throat. This position sent Douma’s pretty cock far deeper than before.
Your knees felt weak and your pussy felt impossibly full as you slowly grinded onto his dick. Tears obscured your vision of Douma’s expression, but if his quiet noises were anything to go by, you thankfully hadn’t lost his interest yet.
“I would’ve,” you abruptly sputtered.
“Hm?” Douma answered, hands unconsciously trying to help your hips pick up speed.
“You– shit, you asked if I would’ve offered myself to you if I didn’t think I was going to die?”
Sinful noises permeated the room while Douma remained silent.
“I fucking hate to admit it, but anyone in this doomed cult would be lying if they said they didn’t want to get in your pants.” Whimpers punctured each word, driving yourself mad while you slowly rode Douma’s blessed cock.
Unbeknownst to you, Douma was looking for any sign you might be lying. A twitch in your brow, an increase in your already rapid heartbeat, a stutter in your breath– anything that would indicate you were just another stupid human hopelessly clinging to life. He found none.
Claws pierced your hips, holding you still as Douma drove into you, treating you like his personal fuckthing.
“Ah, just what am I supposed to do with you?”
Hips snapped against your own at a speed only Douma could set, piercing such a deep place only Douma could reach, and causing noises to erupt from you that only Douma could ignite.
“I try forcing you to put forth some effort here, and you go say something like that? Are you trying to get fucked to death?”
A familiar sensation erupted below.
“Please Douma, just fuck me! Fuck me to death, I don’t care– just don’t stop!”
You didn’t even have time to warn Douma before you finally felt something snap as you came all over his cock. A sensation unlike any other was followed by warmth enveloping your pussy as Douma finished inside you at the same time.
You collapsed on the beautiful yet deadly man below you, your chest heaving as you chased after lost air while Douma barely seemed affected.
A few moments of blissful silence was interrupted by the panic that flooded over your body. The deed was done and Douma had no reason to keep you around.
The man in question carefully untangled himself from your limbs, allowing you to settle on the bed for what you assumed to be the final moments of your fleeting life. You spent most of your life homeless, alone, and without any real goals.Your shining win in life was sleeping with a monster, so it’s not like you’d be someone missed.
“Those silly humans are probably lost without my presence for so long– what feeble beings.”
Eyes scrunched in fear opened to see Douma casually getting dressed, humming as he went. Not a care in the world.
Heading for the door like nothing happened, the demon turned to wave. “Bye bye!”
“Wait!” you yelled, nearly tumbling to the ground. “Aren’t you going to– well, y’know–”
Douma blankly stared, eyes giving away nothing before he burst into exaggerated emotion. “Oh! Is that why you were so nervous? I never said I was going to kill you.”
The partial remains that originally caused this entire mess littered your peripheral vision.
“You aren’t?”
Confusion colored Douma’s features. “No? I rather enjoyed our time together and you’re cute to look at!”
You couldn’t decide if you should be horrified or relieved at his simple reasons for not murdering you.
“Please don’t touch the other girls while I’m gone,” he said, referencing his unfinished meal. “I’m saving them for later. I’ll bring you some new clothes too since I tore up your other ones,” he finished with a wink. “Bye bye!”
The door thudded shut and you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you got yourself into.
Hope you all enjoyed :)
(Note: This is cross-posted from my ao3 @/CherryGourds)
✶⋆.˚ ── .✦ apparently your boyfriend is a legend, a legend where he has a big, fat monster cock nicknamed... magnum mattsun?!
✶⋆.˚ ── .✦ cw: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! fem!reader, unprotected sex, size kink (duh), overstimulation, dumbification, mattsun's got a dirty mouth, slight power dynamics if u squint, MAGNUM MATTSUN, cutesy aftercare, lowkey crack!fic vibes in the beginning and end
✶⋆.˚ ── .✦ wc: ~5000 words
a/n: i rewrote this like 5 times,,, thats why day 5 is on day 8 lol.. PLEASE ENJOY! i'll be catching up this week </3
You had gotten used to nights like these, crammed in MATSUKAWA'S apartment that smelled of whatever cheap takeout was chosen for the five of you.
Tucked beside Matsukawa on the couch, you watched the chaos unfold with a small, amused smile. It was loud and stuffy, but familiar in a way that always warmed your heart.
Oikawa was midway through another story about their volleyball days when Hanamaki cut in, waving his chopstick like a sword. "Bro, you can't even talk about that without mentioning how Mattsun almost got us banned from the gym."
"Wasn't my fault," Matsukawa said, voice low and lazy. "You're the one who told coach I could bench more than I actually could."
"I was hyping you up!" Hanamaki shot back with a laugh. "Didn't think it'd turn into a whole thing."
Oikawa snorted. "A whole thing? You mean the thing that made Matsu a legend?" He turned to you, eyes lighting up with mischief as he wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm sure Y/N knows a whole lot about that~!"
You blinked, frowning slightly. "Know what?"
Hanamaki's grin spread slowly and wickedly. "Wait. Wait. You're tellin' me she's never heard about it? Mattsun, you dog!"
"Don't," Matsukawa warned, tone even, though the corners of his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.
"The what?" You asked, half-laughing now, caught somewhere between confusion and amusement.
Oikawa leaned in dramatically, "Let's just say our dear Matsu has lot of baggage. He's packing a lot of it."
Iwaizumi shoved him, though he was clearly holding back a laugh. "You're an idiot."
You looked to Matsukawa, to which he had his head down to his lap with a sigh. "Ignore them, baby. Just stupid locker room jokes, nothin' worth repeating."
Hanamaki was already cackling. "Locker room jokes, my ass. You know what people said about you, man. Half the team still calls you—"
"Bro."
"—Magnum Mattsun!" Hanamaki finished, practically wheezing with laughter.
Oikawa nearly choked on his drink, "Oh my god, that takes me back."
You felt your face warm, biting back a laugh out of respect for your boyfriend’s visible embarrassment. “Wait, are you guys being for real right now?”
"They're never serious," Matsukawa said quickly, staring daggers at Hanamaki, "Ignore 'em."
Hanamaki's grin only grew. "Hey, rumors don't start outta nowhere, that's all I gotta say."
You pressed your lips together, fighting back a smile. "So it's... kinda true then?"
Matsukawa gave you a dry look, that lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Guess you'll just have to take their word for it."
Hanamaki whooped, "Smooth!" To which Matsukawa threw his chopstick at him.
"Shut up." He laughed.
The conversation eventually moved on, Oikawa bragging about his new workout plan, but the thought lingered in your head, as well as the heat in your cheeks.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
That's what brought you to this current moment: your back arching off the sheets as his fingers expertly filled your cunt.
“Tell me what feels good, baby,” he murmured, voice low and steady as his fingers moved slowly, testing your reactions. His eyes never left yours, watching, reading every breath and shiver like he wanted to memorize it.
"I-I don't know yet," you mewled, still adjusting to the sensation of something filling you. It was just two of his fingers, and you already felt so full.
How the fuck was his dick supposed to feel then?
"You're cute when you're flustered," he chuckled, curling his fingers experimentally, earning him a sharp gasp. "Perfect, baby... Just like that."
You whined at his words, face flushed in embarrassment and lust. "Issei, please..."
His fingers continued to rub your walls perfectly, and the more he did it, the more your pussy squelched and gushed, molding to the shape of his fingers.
"Please what? You already beggin' for my cock?" He laughed, licking his lips as his eyes drifted to your flushed cunt that he was slowly working through. "Gotta take my time with you if you're gonna take it. Remember?" He smirked. "Magnum Mattsun?"
You slapped his abdomen, making him laugh all the more. "M'sorry, babe. Let me focus then. Need to loosen you up to make it feel better, let me stretch you out."
His fingers plunged in and out of you, working your cunt more as he could sense you relaxing more around him. "Good girl, relax for me..." He murmured as his thumb gently rubbed circles into your clit.
The sensation of his fingers flicking up against your walls and your clit had you gasping and moaning desperately, you couldn't imagine anything more than this.
Then, you felt his tongue on you.
Gasping, your eyes widened as you locked your eyes with his, which were already staring up at your from below your waist, tongue lapping at your clit.
"F-Fuck, Issei~!" You moaned, hands clutching the sheets.
Matsukawa's tongue flicked at your clit as his fingers curled at that sweet spot inside of you, and worst of all, his eyes were still locked onto yours.
You couldn't look away, not when he looked so hot while he was ravaging you.
His biceps tensed as his strokes grew faster and rougher. He knew you were ready for it the moment you started purring his name like a mantra.
"Fuck, sweetheart.. You taste so good, you feelin' it? Hm?" He groaned against you, lifting his head up for a second to lick his lips. "Takin' me so good, I want you to cum for me."
His mouth was back on you in a flash, and you swore you saw stars. Sucking at your clit so greedily while his fingers pummeled into your gushing pussy. His lips and tongue took turns abusing it, making your whimpers turn into cries of pleasure.
"I c-can’t… Issei… please…" You stammered, hips jutting up against his mouth as your words stumbled out in a jumble. He ignored you and kept his punishing pace, just perfectly enough to send you off the edge.
Warmth flooded over your entire body while pulsing shocks, your walls clenching hard around his fingers. Your vision blurred, and those seconds of ecstasy felt like an eternity the way you blanked during your orgasm.
As you came down, Matsukawa slipped his fingers out with a satisfied hum, sitting up straight to bring his fingers to his mouth, sucking off your slick clean from his fingers, grinning at your stunned expression.
His eyes turned dark and heavy, swooping down your body. "See? Told you it wouldn't take much," he murmured, voice low and amused. "You warm up to me too easily, baby."
Your cheeks burned as you tried to catch your breath. Your definition of an orgasm was much different from how he did it. "I-I don't know if I can take it..." You eyed the large bulge in his sweatpants anxiously.
He chuckled, pushing down the waistband of his sweats to reveal a much more prominent outline of his cock from under the fabric of his briefs. "We'll test that theory, yeah?" He said, brushing his thumb along your cheek. "Don't worry, baby, I've got you."
His hand grabbed hold of yours and moved it to rest on his groin, letting you feel out the shape and size.
Your eyes widened, carefully running your hand along its length. "Issei, I swear you're going to kill me..." You muttered, eyes staring at it like it was a rabid animal.
Pulling his briefs down, his cock sprang free to slap against his abdomen. It made a hard thwack! sound as it happened, fuck it looked so heavy.
It was long and rigid with veins, the sheer girth alone making the air in the room feel much tighter. The swollen, angry head glistened with a bead of his pre-cum, bobbing gently from being set free.
"That’s— that’s not a rumor, that’s a threat."
Matsukawa's mouth curved into that slow, crooked grin that always made your stomach flip, "A threat, huh? You make it sound like I'm out to hurt you."
You huffed out a shaky laugh, eyes flicking down to his cock that was practically dangling in front of you from your lower position. "Kinda feels like you might..."
He snorted, eyes glinting with amusement as he stroked himself lazily. "Please. I'm a gentleman."
You gave him a look. "Pretty sure gentlemen don't come with warning labels."
"Guess I'm the exception," he said smoothly, lips twitching into that faint smirk that always made you weak in the knees.
You tried to roll your eyes, but you couldn't hide from him, your smile peeking through. "You're impossible."
"Yeah," he murmured, hand caressing your cheek, "but you like me anyway."
The air shifted, and his voice dropped lower as his thumb traced along your jaw, down to your throat until your laughter faded quietly.
He leaned closer, eyes searching yours. "Still okay, baby?"
Your breath hitched. "Yeah..." you whispered, "Just, um—nervous.."
He smiled softly, but the teasing was gone now. "Good nervous?"
You nodded with a small hum, to which he leaned down to kiss you. It was slow and steady, the kind of kiss that made all of your worries melt away.
His hand slid down to your thigh to spread your legs open for him. He pulled back from the kiss to sit up where he was knelt on his knees in between your legs, stroking himself over your entrance. "Tell me if it's too much, yeah?"
You swallowed, voice coming out breathlessly, "Okay."
"Good girl," he whispered, the sound making your chest tighten, the teasing from before lightening your fears despite how daunting his cock looked up against you.
He lay himself out over your stomach, letting it rest heavily on top of you. It was warm, hot, so thick. "It's... so big..." It barely came out as a whisper, you weren't even sure if you wanted to say it out loud.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling against your skin. "Yeah?" he murmured, eyes trained on how deep his cock reached over your stomach, mesmerized. "Still think I'm a threat?"
Your face burned, but you couldn't look away. "Kinda proving my point..."
Matsukawa smiled, hands running down the sides of your waist comfortingly, thumbs rolling in small circles. "Promise I'll take it slow, baby," he said softly, "Gonna make it feel good for you, alright?"
You nodded, breath shaky, and he leaned down to pressed a small kiss to your forehead before sitting back up, one hand intertwining with yours, the other lining up his cock to your entrance.
"Relax for me, baby." His voice was low and soothing, though there was a hungry edge to it that made your stomach flutter. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, "You good?"
You nodded, squeezing his hand to signal him the okay. "You'll take it slow, right?"
"Promise," he said, squeezing your hand back, then shifted his hips slightly, the fat tip of him pressing just a little more firmly against you. The stretch was immediate, a slow burn that had you gasping, your free hand flying to grip his forearm.
"Fuck," you whispered, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your body adjusted to the burning stretch.
Matsukawa froze, his hand stilling on your thigh. "Too much?" He asked concernedly, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
You shook your head quickly, exhaling a shaky breath. "No, just... give me a sec."
He nodded, his thumb resuming those slow, comforting circles on your thigh. "Take your time, sweetheart. I'm here."
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and the warmth in his expression made your heart skip. He was teasing, cocky, Magnum Mattsun in all his glory, but he was also Issei: patient, attentive, and so stupidly in love with you that it made your chest ache. You gave his hand a small squeeze, signaling him to keep going.
He took it slow, easing himself in with a careful roll of his hips. The stretch was overwhelming, a mix of pressure and heat that had you gripping his arm tighter, nails digging into his skin. Never in your life had you felt so full.
It wasn't even just the size; it was also the way he watched you, his eyes flicking between your face and where his cock was accommodating your tight hole to his girth. He drank in every reaction like he was committing it to memory.
"God, you're so tight," he muttered to himself, his voice rougher now as he was using all of his willpower to restrain himself. He paused, letting you adjust again, his free hand sliding up to cup your hip. "Doin' so good for me, baby."
Your cheeks burned at his words, a mix of embarrassment and pride swelling in your chest. "Issei…" you mumbled, your voice barely above a whine.
He chuckled, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. "What? Don't tell me you're getting shy now," he teased, his breath hot against your skin. "Not after all that talk callin' me a threat."
You huffed, swatting weakly at his chest, but the movement only made you shift against him, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips as he sank in a little deeper. "Oh—fuck."
His grin widened, "There we go," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that sent shivers down your spine. "Knew you could take me."
You wanted to retort, to throw some witty comeback his way, but all you could manage was a soft whimper as he moved again, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch. The stretch was intense, but the way he kept his pace steady, checking in with every little shift of your expression, made it bearable.
You nodded, swallowing hard. "Y-Yeah. Feels… feels good."
His eyes lit up at that, a spark of pride and something darker flickering in them. "Yeah?" he said, his voice a little rougher now, a little less restrained. "Good. 'Cause I’m not even close to done with you."
Matsukawa's hips shifted, driving deeper, and a ragged moan spilled from your lips, your head tipping back against the pillow. He stretched you in a searing, pulsating fullness that consumed you, every inch of his massive cock reshaping your core with a relentless intensity that left your thighs quaking.
He groaned low, his fingers digging into your hip, grounding you as he battled to keep his thrusts slow, each one a deliberate testament to his overwhelming size.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he rasped, voice thick with hunger, his eyes locked on where his thick length disappeared into you, his breath catching at the sight of your body straining to accommodate his fat cock. "So fuckin' perfect, baby, takin' my cock like you were made for it."
His gaze was ravenous, fixated on how his girth stretched you to your absolute limit, the way your body yielded under the sheer weight of him. His towering frame, broad shoulders, and muscled chest loomed over you, amplifying the way his cock stretched you. "Holy fuck, look at how I'm splitting you open," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "My cock's stretchin' you so fuckin' good, huh?"
Your cheeks burned, a hot wave crashing through you as his words sank in. You squirmed, desperate to ease the burning tension of how thick he was, but the movement only intensified everything, making your walls flutter around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat. "Fuck, you feel that?" he growled, his hand sliding to your lower abdomen, pressing firmly where he could feel the faint bulge of his cock inside you.
The pressure sent a jolt through you, the stretch so good it felt like he was carving you out from the inside. Your body trembled as you gasped, clenching tight around him. “Issei—” you whimpered, your voice fracturing under the weight of the sensation, the way his massive cock seemed to rupture your core with every slow, deliberate thrust, stretching you to the point where your mind was numbed.
“Fuck, love hearin’ you like that,” he muttered, his hips rolling with torturous precision, savoring how your body strained around his thick length, the stretch so intense it felt like a delicious ache radiating from your core.
His eyes flicked back to where you were joined, and he let out a low, smug hum. “Look at this—my cock’s stretchin’ you so fuckin’ wide you can barely take it.”
Your thighs shook, heat flooding your body at his words. His large hands held you steady, one hand still laced with yours, the other guiding your hip as he moved.
“You love it, don’t you?” he teased, voice dripping with raw need, his crooked grin sharp with heat. “How my fat cock just fills your pretty pussy up? Molding it to fit me and me only?” He punctuated the words with a deep thrust, and you cried out, your back arching as the stretch ignited a white-hot spark of pleasure that threatened to unravel you.
“Issei, please,” you gasped, nails clawing at his arms, the stretch so intense it felt like your body was being remade around him, every thrust pushing your limits further.
“Please what, baby?” he murmured, his grin wicked yet tender, his eyes searing into yours as he watched your body struggle against his size prying into you. His hand pressed harder against your stomach, feeling the bulge of himself, and he groaned, low and primal. "Fuck that's so hot, can feel myself all in your tummy."
Matsukawa shifted your legs, hoisting them up and pressing your thighs against your chest into a mating press. The new angle made you gasp, your eyes widening as his cock reached even deeper, prodding at your cervix. You felt every inch, your mind going blank with ecstacy.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as he towered over you, his weight pinning you in place, greedily pummeling into you. “Look at how my cock’s stretchin’ you now—so fuckin’ deep, baby, you’re takin’ every inch.” His thrusts grew heavier, more forceful, each one driving his cock deeper into you with a punishing rhythm that had your pussy gushing with slick.
His thumb found your clit, the circles he rubbed into it making your vision blur, and you cried out, hands grasping for his shoulders, his neck, anything to anchor yourself against the way he was pounding into you. "I-Issei, I'm—" you started, but the words dissolved into a whimper as he thrust deeper, the new position making you choke every time he thrusted forward, hitting that sweet spot with precision.
“Yeah, I know,” he seethed, voice thick with lust, eyes piercing yours with a ravenous glint, feasting on every squelch and broken cry. “Be a good girl for me, baby—fuck, that’s it, take this fat cock stretchin’ you wide and give it to me, cum f'me." His thumb pressed harder against your clit, his thrusts picking up just enough to push you over the edge, each one a reminder of how his fat dick was shaping your pussy anew.
His words, filthy and adoring, coupled with the relentless pumps that made your cunt twitch and spasm, sent you spiraling. Your vision blurred, your body tensing as pleasure erupted through you, your walls spasming and gripping him so tightly, making him groan as his own restraint frayed. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hand pressing against your stomach, amplifying your orgasm. "Takin' my cock so fuckin' well, baby. My good girl."
You were still trembling, still coming down from your orgasm. The stretch lingered like a burning afterglow as he leaned down to kiss you deeply, his tongue mirroring the rhythm of his hips rolling into yours. "Still a threat, babygirl?" he murmured against your lips with a grunt, his voice teasing but laced with a possessive edge.
You could barely make out a laugh, it coming out more like mewls with the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through you as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. "M'addicted.." You slurred out.
His grin widened, pressing another kiss to your lips, the loud smacking sounds mixed with the gooey, sloppy sounds of your leaking cunt. "Good," he said lowly, adjusting the grip he had that kept you folded beneath him. "'Cause I'm not done stretchin' you out yet, baby."
Matsukawa's lips lingered against yours, the kiss a bit more sloppy, mirroring the way his cock thrusted down into you. Each thrust relentlessly reshaping you around the shape of him. Your body still shook from your orgasm, every nerve bursting with overstimulation.
"Fuck, baby," he groaned against your lips, his voice rough with strain as slick gushed around his cock with every thrust. "You're still so fuckin' tight, even after cummin' like that. Takin' my cock so well."
His hips rocked harder now, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every punishing stroke that sent shocks of pain-pleasure through your body.
You whimpered, your voice reduced to broken, incoherent sounds, mewls and gasps that spilled from your lips as your mind struggled to keep up with Matsukawa's strokes. "I-Issei..." you managed, the word slurring into a desperate plea, your hands clawing weakly at his shoulders.
"Shh, baby, I got you," he murmured, though the hunger in the back of his voice was evident. He drank in the way your face contorted with pleasure, with glassy eyes and eyes half-lidded. "Look at you, all fucked out on my cock. Can't even think straight, can you?"
You tried to respond, but all that you could manage was a high-pitched whine, your body arching instinctively into him as another wave hit you. Your mind was foggy, the only thing you could make clear was the unrelenting burn of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit. Words failed you, replaced by soft, desperate moans and the wet, squelching sounds of your cunt struggling to take him.
"Fuck, that's it," he growled, his grin wicked as he watched you unravel, his massive frame keeping you pinned, making you feel every inch of him. "Don't think about anything, just me and my cock splitting you open," he moaned, his thrusts growing rougher, more erratic.
Your head lolled back, your body trembling uncontrollably as another orgasm came over you. You clenched around him so tightly, earning a long groan rumbling from his throat.
"I-I can’t—Issei, s’too much," you slurred, voice barely audible. The pleasure was blinding, leaving you a whimpering and quivering mess beneath him, his cock continuing to pummel into your gushing cunt.
"Too much?" he teased, though his voice was strained, his own restraint tiring out with the way your cunt squeezed him like a vice. "Nah, baby, you're doin' so good. Look at how this pretty pussy's takin' my cock." His thumb circled harder at your clit, making you cry out.
Your body twitched with every thrust, and your mind was lost in a haze that just kept repeating Issei, Issei, Issei.
“Issei… f-fuck… please…” You whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.
“Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his hips slamming into you with a desperate edge now, the mating press keeping you folded and open for him, his cock driving so deep it felt like he was splitting you in two. “All mine, baby. This pussy’s mine, takin’ me so well even when you’re fallin’ apart.” His hand pressed against your stomach again, feeling the bulge of his cock, and he groaned, low and primal, his control slipping. “Fuck, you’re makin’ me lose it.”
Your body was a live wire, every thrust sending you spiraling further into a state of bliss, your moans turning into a continuous stream of soft, broken cries. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but feel the pounding stretch of his massive cock. You couldn't even distinguish when you were cumming and when you were not, everything mushed into one big foggy daze.
“Fuck, baby, I’m close,” he rasped, his voice rough and breathless, his thrusts growing sloppy as he chased his own release. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. You ready for me?” His eyes flicked to yours, but all you could manage was a dazed, glassy nod, your mind too far gone to process anything beyond the searing stretch and the way his cock claimed every inch of you.
With a final, deep thrust, Matsukawa groaned, his heavy balls tightening up as his cock pulsed inside you as he came balls deep, hot and heavy, filling you with a warmth that seemed to flood every part of your core.
You choked, feeling his swollen tip bruising your cervix as he decorated you with his thick seed, your walls clenching around him as you whimpered, completely lost in the haze of pleasure. He stayed buried deep, his hips pressed flush against yours with his weight fully pressing you into the mattress, keeping you locked together as he rode out his climax, his breath ragged and uneven.
“Fuck… so good,” he muttered, his voice low and spent, his hand sliding up to cup your face, thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he looked down at you. Your eyes were half-lidded, your expression dazed, lips parted as you panted softly, still trembling.
“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, a soft, teasing grin tugging at his lips. “All fucked out from my cock. Can’t even talk, huh?”
You tried to respond, but all that came out was a soft, incoherent mumble, your mind still clouded with the aftershocks of pleasure. He chuckled, low and warm, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his massive frame still looming over you as he slowly eased out. His cock slipped out with a wet sound, leaving you feeling empty yet still buzzing with the lingering stretch, your body quivering in the aftermath.
The absence of his thick cock left you feeling achingly empty, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of overstimulation, your mind a hazy, blissful fog. You were limp, your chest heaving with shallow breaths, your eyes half-lidded as you tried to ground yourself.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice soft now, a stark contrast to the rough growl from moments ago. He shifted to sit beside you, his large hand sliding up your side, soothing the trembling muscles with gentle, languid strokes. “You’re still shakin’. Did I break you or what?”
You managed a weak, breathy laugh, your voice hoarse and barely audible. “M’not… broken,” you mumbled, though the slurred words betrayed the state you were in, your mind still swimming in the radiant afterglow. “Just… dead. You killed me, Issei.”
He chuckled, his crooked grin lighting up his face as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Killed you, huh? That’s what I get for bein’ Magnum Mattsun.” He waggled his eyebrows, the teasing glint in his eyes making you groan, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.
“Shut… up,” you muttered, swatting weakly at his chest, your hand barely making an impact against his broad frame. “You’re the worst.”
“Yeah, but you love me,” he shot back, his grin widening as he scooped you up effortlessly, pulling you into his lap. His arms enveloped you, his warmth seeping into your skin as he cradled you against his chest, careful not to jostle your oversensitive body. “C’mon, let’s get you comfy, my pretty little mess.”
You melted into him, too exhausted to protest, your head resting against his shoulder as his fingers traced lazy patterns along your back. “You’re so big,” you mumbled, half-delirious, your words spilling out without filter. “Like… unfairly big. It’s rude.”
He snorted, his chest rumbling with laughter as he grabbed a nearby blanket, draping it over your shoulders to cocoon you in warmth. “Rude, huh? Says the one who was beggin’ for it five minutes ago.” He tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek, his eyes softening as he took in your dazed expression. “You okay, though? For real. I went pretty hard on you.”
You nodded, nuzzling closer, your body still raw from the intensity but soothed by his touch. “M’okay,” you whispered, your voice steadier now but still soft. “Just… need a minute. Or, like, a year.”
He laughed again, the sound vibrant and infectious, and leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose. “A year? Nah, I’ll give you ten minutes tops before you’re ready for round two.” He winked, but his tone was light, teasing, making it clear he was joking—mostly.
You groaned dramatically, burying your face in his chest. “You’re a monster. My poor body can’t handle your… gigantic ego anymore.” The words were muffled against his skin, but the playful jab made him chuckle, his arms tightening around you protectively.
“My ego’s the least of your worries,” he teased, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “You’re the one who’s gotta deal with the legend of Magnum Mattsun now. No goin’ back, baby.” He punctuated the words with a playful flex of his bicep, making you giggle despite your exhaustion.
“God, you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your smile betrayed you as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, the warmth of the blanket and his body lulling you into a state of contented relaxation. His hand slid up to your hair, fingers threading gently through the strands, massaging your scalp with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
“Insufferable but irresistible,” he corrected, his voice soft now as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Lemme grab you some water, yeah? Gotta keep my girl hydrated after all that.” He shifted carefully, easing you off his lap and onto the bed, making sure the blanket stayed tucked around you.
You whined at the loss of his warmth, and he grinned, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. “Don’t pout, I’m comin’ right back. Gotta make sure you’re still in one piece.”
He stood, his massive frame filling the room as he moved to grab a water bottle from the nightstand, his movements fluid despite the earlier intensity. You watched him, your eyes tracing the lines of his muscled back, still a little dazed, and couldn’t help but marvel at how someone so imposing could be so gentle. He returned quickly, handing you the water with a mock-stern look. “Drink, or I’m pourin’ it over your head.”
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. “So bossy,” you muttered under your breath.
“Baby, it’s Magnum Mattsun—bossy’s just part of the package,” he teased with a smug grin, tugging you into his warm embrace as you melted into a blissful, sated haze.
Warnings: Fingering, Improper Use of Broken Invisibility Ring
Pairing: Apollo (ROR) x Reader
Summary: Kinktober Day 1: Curio Shop [Ring of Invisibility with Chipped Stone (Reduced to sell $750 $29)]
Word Count: 858
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI - THIS BLOG IS 18+
"Come here my dear" You were beckoned over to where your lover sat, a top of plush bed of pillows and silks, his favourite place to lounge in your shared chambers.
As you drew closer you noticed a small package in his hands. You sat next to him, tilting your head towards the small package he held.
"What's that?"
His smile grew as he held it up.
"I stopped at an interesting shop today, and found the most beautiful ring for my darling."
You took the package from him, and gently unwrapped it and found a small box within. Upon opening the box you were surprised to see a small ring, slightly tarnished with a chipped golden stone in the center.
You were slightly confused as it wasn't the type of things he normally bought for you. He normally favoured large, almost gaudy and ostentatious jewelry, items that could be seen across a room and left no doubt who had gifted it to you.
But while it was different for the normal gifts he liked to bestow upon you, you still enjoyed the thought of it, that he had seen it and thought of you.
And so you take the ring out of the box and lean up to quickly peck him on the cheek.
"It's such an interesting stone, did they say what it was?" You questioned him as you carefully slipped it on.
And once the ring was fully seated on your hand, your clothes vanished, leaving you completely bare.
You jerk away from Apollo and quickly go to remove the ring, but his hand quickly envelops your own, keeping the ring in place.
"Now, now, my dear. None of that," He greedily drunk in the sight of your bare figure, "You would deprive me of this beautiful sight?"
You are without words, he knew what would happen?
Your face burns with a mixture of embarrassment and rage, and you turn to yell at him. Mouth open, one hand poised to strike him, you stop short when you catch his expression, and the naked hunger upon it.
The heat in his eyes burns as brightly as his sun. He's seen you bare before him thousands of times, yet every time he sees you his expression is the same, wonder, and hunger.
His hands travel up your arms,drawing invisible patterns along your skin, and you shiver as the pads of his fingers ghost along your body.
You begin to relax in his hold, still annoyed over this prank, but interested in seeing where this goes, and truly, you could never say no to Apollo when he wanted you, the pleasure he could wring from your body was like nothing else.
His hands travel your collarbone, before heading south, pinching your nipples as his fingers trace them. You shiver and moan as his mouth joins his fingers, kissing and sucking as he moves downward.
"What kind of ring is this?" You manage to get the question out in between moans, your curiosity outweighing your desire to simply melt into the pleasurable bliss of this ministrations.
"Really?" He chuckled lowly, moving his face away from your chest and fixing you with a smirk, "That's what you want to focus on?"
"Indulge me," You moaned as his lips grazed your navel, fingers following in their wake, "I'm curious"
"And here I thought I was indulging you," a kiss to your hips followed his words, "Though I suppose I can indulge your curiosity as well as your pleasure. It used to be a ring of Invisibility, but it broke and now it makes clothes completely disappear when put on"
"Do the clothes come back?"
You feel a chuckle against your thighs, "Yes my dear, the clothes come back."
You hummed in contentment, pleased with his answer, "Good, I liked that dress."
You lean back onto the bed, closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself in the sensations of Apollo's hands roaming your body.
You gasp in surprise as his fingers find their way to your entrance. They caress your outer lips, only dipping in very shallowly, teasing.
You buck your hips, trying to gain more friction, whining at the teasing.
"Hmm? Do you want something, you had so many questions, I wouldn't want to derail your little interrogation," he chuckled again, "I should make sure I thoroughly sate your curiosity, I'd hate to leave you wanting."
"Please," It was barely a whisper that escaped your lips, not wanting to give in so quickly.
"Please what?"
"Please Apollo, touch me." Your hips bucked again, chasing his fingers as they pulled away again.
"Your curiosity has been satisfied?"
"Yes."
"Should I satisfy something else now?"
"Yes!"
His finger dive in, quickly finding your sensitive spots, wringing an orgasm from you quicker than you had though possible. You lay there breathing heavily, satisfied and content.
You crack your eyes open, tilting your head to look down at him between your legs. You watch as he pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean, before placing a chaste kiss against your trembling thighs.
"Now then, let's see just how much more I can satisfy you."
