Contains: FEMALE READER. cockwarming, consensual filming?, mean scara, degradation (whore), dirty talk, humiliation, exhibitionism(?), reader is in just a shirt, pre-established relationship
He was live. He was live streaming — and you were settled on his cock. Your back was to the camera so it just looked like you were settled on his lap, hugging him. An innocent take to those who didn’t know, but little did chat know that you were sitting on his dick, pussy clenching every time he got a kill.
Your face was buried in his neck, muffling the small whimpers that slipped your lips, trying your best to stay as quiet as you could so his mic wouldn't pick up on it. The soft rock of your hips had his cock pulsing in your cunt. Your pussy was drooling everywhere, soaking into his unzipped pants and making a mess of both your thighs.
"..Scara..?" You had mumbled, hiding your face in his shoulder, biting down on your lip when he shifted, his tip kissing that sweet spot that made you see stars.
He offered a low hum of acknowledgement, sparing a sly, fleeting glance and smirk at you before turning back to his stream and continued playing his game. His eyes skimmed at his chat, briefly scanning over the messages before one had caught his eye.
"Yea I do have someone in my lap. My babygirl is rather clingy when I do twenty-four hour streams like this, so why not just have 'em here with me?"
His comment got a few messages of agreement. Some asked who was in his lap and why your face was hidden. Scara had skipped over the ones that had asked about you personally and would require a personal answer, one in particular catching his eye.
“i wonder if his partner is a good hit..”
He narrowed his eyes, pausing the game as his hands then grabbed your chin and meanly squished your cheeks, watching as his grip puckered your lips. His voice was rough and thick with an unspoken emotion, "Wanna tell chat that you're my whore and no one elses? Go on and tell chat how you're currently sitting and keeping my fat cock nice and warm while I play my game?"
Your eyes widened as you stiffly shook your head, far too embarrassed to ever admit something so provocative online, nonetheless to strangers.
"No? You don't want people to know whose cock is splitting you open right now?" His comment sent a wave of heat rising to your face, your cheeks feeling hot and you whined.
"All these cute little noises you're making for chat, you should see all their comments about you... disgusting really if you ask me, I bet they're touching themselves wishing it was them in my spot."
"Scara—" Your words were partially slurred by his grip on your face, small tears pricking in your eyes by how mean he was being. You weren’t used to him talking about you in such a degrading manner.
"What? Too embarrassed to share how messy your pretty little pussy is? How much it’s drooling all over my lap? Bet you’re getting off to me humiliating you in front of thousands of people"
"M’'not- scarAH—" You were cut off by his sharp thrust, his hips pressing his tip firmly against your cervix as the small tears in your eyes fell in tandem with the strangled moan leaving your lips.
He scoffed, shaking his head, mumbling under his breath as he watched chat go crazy. The messages were flying in so fast, he could barely catch a glimpse and his donation alerts were going off every so often announcing the rather large amounts for both you and him to hear.
"Utterly filthy. Both you and my viewers. tch" He sneered, glancing back at his camera and quickly ended his stream, leaving those who were watching look at the end screen and you, a teary eyed, needy mess on his lap.
NSFW, aged up characters (21+) || minors, ageless and empty blogs DO NOT INTERACT!!
pairing // Mikey x reader x Draken
word count // 582
tags // degradation (reader called 'whore' once), slight breath play, size kink if you squint, tummy bulge, creampie, slightly unhinged Mikey, a bit of Mikey x Draken action at the end
AN // this was based on a short lived dream that was disturbed by my pesky alarm, hence why it is so smol. mayhaps one day i will expand.
Every once in a while, Mikey feels rather generous and allows his right hand man—his best friend—to fuck you. He would sit nearby commanding you, whispering in your ear while Draken was in your gut, his fat cock stretching you out, leaky tip abusing your cervix.
“Look at you, all fucked out like this on someone else’s cock. Filthy whore.” Mikey’s fingers are now wrapping around your throat, probably a bit tighter than they’re supposed to. There is a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Your eyes dart between Mikey’s and Draken’s, unspoken pleads spilling out just like the tears streaming down your cheeks. You could barely hang on, thighs violently shaking around Ken’s waist, and you could feel him all the way in your throat, his big cock relentlessly drilling into you, kissing all the good spots that made you cry out in pleasure.
Your walls flutter around his girth, squeezing him for all he’s worth and making his head spin with thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have. Thoughts about having you all to himself.
You looked even prettier than usual pinned under his large body—soft skin under his fingers, tits bouncing with every thrust, small bulge visible on your belly, and eyes rolled at the back of your head. Draken wished he could see you like this more often, as so far it was his favourite view.
And Mikey didn’t mind the view either—he didn’t miss the way your tiny hands clutched around Ken’s neck, how your tongue was lolled out and you were loud. And so fucking gorgeous. And he knew you like the back of his hand so he was already aware you were close to cumming—the way your eyebrows pinched together and your muscles tensed.
“M-Mik-ey.. please.. p-please, I need to.. I want to.. ” you were a babbling mess, all you could really manage to say was ‘please’ yet he knew exactly what you meant.
“Aw, wanna cum, princess?” he cooes, his lips wrapping around your perky nipple and sucking it hard, teeth grazing over it. All you could give in response was a nod, begging again, saying how it’s driving you crazy. So Mikey took pity on you. “Go on then, show Kenchin how good you feel creaming around his cock.”
And you didnt need to be told twice, fingers craded through Ken’s hair, tugging on it, your whole body went rigid, the coil in your belly finally snapping. All at once, your orgasm is washing over you with the force of a tsunami, leaving you a trembling mess.
“Fuck, f-FUCK” Draken was now struggling, hips stuttering against yours. You were impossibly tight already, but with your pussy clamping down on him and sucking him in greedily, he could barely contain himself. He was going to cum.
“Shit, cummin” his hands were bruising your hips with the force he was holding you with. And through the haze of your orgasm you could feel his—balls pressed to the curvature of your ass, emptying themselves deep inside you. Hot spurts of thick cum were filling you up and it was the most euphoric feeling ever. Until you heard Mikey speak again.
“I gave her permission to cum, I don’t fucking remember giving you permission, Kenchin.” He has a hand wrapped around Ken’s throat now, eyes looking even more dangerous than before, completely clouded by lust. And before you realise what'a happening, Mikey is pulling Draken in for a kiss and you realise.. you’re in for a really long night.
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.
I feel like jock!Sasha would share you with her team at first it's after they won the championship and things get too heated then it's after a tournament that they lost and need to blow some steam then it's before a game because they do better seeing you all messed up in the stands then it's all the time it's slow and no one really notices until it's an (almost) everyday activity of the team passing you around when they get together.
Warnings: orgy, group sex, slight degradation but no detail, strapon, oral, tribadism, squirting, overstimulation.
jock!sasha at first shares selfies of herself after a post-win session with you; messy haired, rosy cheeked and shiny chinned, your bare legs around her head and there's obvious essence dripping down your thighs. Then it moves to pictures of you in the seconds after she makes you cum, showing the group chat how pretty you are fucked out and on the verge of tears, maybe a short video of you panting and still twitching and still moaning her name.
Then Annie boldly asks for a little more - something more intimate, something just more. And Sasha goes for it, fucking - a whole 10 minutes of you bouncing on her strap with her meaty thumb pressed snug against your puffy clit, spreading you so they can all see the creamy strings sticking to your folds and to her thick black strap.
And then comes that fateful team meet when they all get a bit drunk and a bit bold, and Sasha's got you creaming on her thigh in that tight little dress and suddenly Mikasa's sat on your face and Annie and Ymir are fighting over who bullies their fingers into your poor little abused cunt first:((
They - as a team, were never ones for traditions or rituals or anything before or after games. So when Sasha brought you to the next post match party dressed in the tightest little bunny outfit complete with ears and a tail; they all decided that maybe you could become their post game ritual. Passing you around in some debauched circle, a few of them wearing strap ons with varying sizes of dick, and the rest all gagging for a taste of your perfect angel cunt:(( Historia loves pressing her pussy to yours, powerful thighs flexing under her team jersey and humping you hard, slow and strong, lewd and sticky and slick and you know there are numerous videos circling some twitter profiles of your two pussies kissing nd grinding nd sliding together.
There are times when it's not - as loving and fun and entertaining, when they loose, when Ymir comes back with a bloody nose and shoves three fingers into you without even a kiss hello, fucking you hard and fast and demanding you squirt for her. Those days are when they use you, abuse your cunt and your ass and your mouth however they saw fit, making you cum over and over because they had some sick obsession with your entire body sweating and quaking and completely at their mercy.
Before games, it's similar? But more boisterous, more 'blowing off steam so you don't punch a locker, Historia'. Your girlfriend has you on all fours, fucking your creamy cunt and pushing you hard into Mikasa's crotch, urging you to eat her out good nd wet nd sloppy cause they think it's so cute when you try so hard:(( they're all chanting and laughing and lounging while they all take turns with you, some times rough and angry and snapping at your tits bouncing in their face; and sometimes sweet and teasing, slow brushes on your swollen clit till you lock up and squeal with a strange kind of orgasm.
You become their tradition, their ritual! it's cute! how much they all love you and care for you, treat you well with their cocks nd their fingers and their tongues and their perfect pussies - but none, none of them compare to how eagerly and how sloppy Sasha eats you out in front of them all. That's always the last thing that happens no matter what, no matter the time or game or win or loose; Sasha makes sure she has her face in your cunt after everyone on the team has had a go, lips spreading yours, tongue curling perfectly and flicking your overstimulated clit. S'mainly cause you're so sensitive, so wound up that you gush and cream and squirt all over her face within seconds and no trophy or prize money can ever compare to that:((
▸ this took so long and so much out of me so all of you better fucking appreciate it.
▸ also get used to demon cocks, not a single one of the brothers has a human looking dick. I am working on them.
▸ bless my husband @dilfcifer as always. I do not know what I would do without their help.
Since the release of the youngest brother from his imprisonment inside the mansion, the attic has become your preferred hiding spot for whenever you feel the need to get a break from your schedule. You’ve discovered no one tends to bother you whenever you choose to retire yourself atop the spiral staircase in the pillow fort that Belphegor has managed to construct right below the roof, exactly in the warmest corner of the house.
It hosts a collection of both the softest quilts and pillows you’ve ever managed to experience, but you wouldn’t expect anything else from the avatar of Sloth, he is quite picky when it comes to how or where to rest, to the point he has to rearrange his bed multiple times before he sleeps, to finally achieve the perfect rest, as he likes to say.
It has slowly become one of your favourite places in the entire demon realm, because on days like these, after spending hours upon hours in class and stressing over homework and other assignments given to you by either Lucifer or Lord Diavolo, you can crash and recharge a bit before going back downstairs to a screaming Leviathan and hyperactive Mammon. Sometimes you even manage to have enough energy to slip into a more comfy attire, like today, having opted to ditch the constricting school uniform for an oversized shirt for the sake of comfort.
But even if no one might want to bother you while you rest but also is not uncommon for the rightful owner of this loft nook to join you in your naps, considering how much time he spent tailoring it to his tastes in the years he spent holed up there, he’s not ready to give it up just yet.
He usually lays beside alongside you to join you in dreamland but with the way you’re looking right now, akin to a muse of a renaissance painting with your hair splayed across the soft cushions, your limbs almost perfectly poised in the casualty of your pose and lips slightly parted in a serene expression, he can hardly contain himself. He has been spending too much time admiring your sleeping, at times barely clothed form, debating with himself about how to proceed in relation to his desires, wanting nothing more than to break you and corrupt you in the most debauched of ways, teaching you what true sin is, to stop himself from finally giving in into his cravings.
The possibility of Lucifer reprimanding him for being so reckless gets shoved at the back of his mind, suffocated underneath the growing heat he feels licking up below his skin as he finally reaches out and tentatively touches the outer part of your thigh, having been revealed long ago by your unconscious movements. His eyes never stray from your peaceful expression, both entranced by your beauty and to make sure he doesn’t interrupt whichever dream you seem to be enjoying, while his fingertips slowly and carefully rise along the profile of your body.
Once he settles his hand at the dip of your waist, your shirt sitting right below your chest by now, just shy of completely revealing your nude body to the demon observing you, he kneads at your soft skin, his thumb moving in slow circles, as he tries to consider what might come of this situation if he further pursues it.
The pure, immaculate fantasy gets shattered in a million pieces as the silence that enveloped the old mansard gets broken by a simple sound, a breathy moan, almost imperceptible if it weren’t for Belphegor holding his breath in anticipation, dropping from your lips and, as he spots a slight trace of arousal staining your modest underwear, he decides to throw any caution he might have had previously completely out the window.
You’ve gotten so used to the way he likes to wrap around you, constricting your every movement, nestling his head right at the junction of where your neck and shoulder meet that nothing can disturb your peaceful sleep, the biggest reaction he manages to drag out of you is a soft hum as he rearranged your body to lay beneath him.
With a growl he rids you of the flimsy cloth covering your modesty, ripping it straight off your body, before he lifts one of your legs to finally gawk at what he’d been fantasising about for so long.
Your cunt is already glistening with arousal, feebly clenching around thin air in reflex, your own body subconsciously longing for your desire to be satisfied, as a dream could never replace the real thing. As if in a trance, Belphegor draws closer, until his heavy breath is hitting your skin, he lays his tongue flat against your fluttering pussy, dragging it up until it catches onto your clit.
The demon barely manages to suffocate the groan bubbling up from his chest at your taste by shoving his face in the comforter right below you. He feels his sanity slowly slipping away with every passing second and considers that he might implode if he doesn’t fulfill his wishes immediately instead of dragging it out as he wished he could’ve done. He hastily shoves his pants down until his cock bounces free, slapping against the bottom of his shirt and staining it with drops of precum, already dripping from his head from the amount of strain he had put himself through. He leaves the elastic band of his underwear sitting right below his balls as he scoops his arms right underneath your knees to comfortably slot himself between them.
He runs his length along your sopping cunt, lubricating his length in your essence, as he lines the tip of his cock to your entrance he looks up apologetically at your sleeping expression, wordlessly asking for you to forgive his lack of prep, before he slowly sheats himself inside you.
Once he feels your crotches finally meet he lets his eyes roll at the back of his head as he experiences your fluttering walls for the first time, hugging him so tightly a shiver running through him head to toe, he almost rips the fabric of one of the covers as he tries to restrain himself from instantly cumming inside you before even trying to fuck you.
Barely managing to recollect himself he reluctantly drags his cock back from your cunt, grinning at the transparent sheen already enveloping his base, proof of how much you had been enjoying yourself in his absence. With renewed vigor he quickly builds up a pace of slow yet ruthless thrusts, managing to knock you further and further back in the miriad of strewn pillows with each movement, his hands grappling at the soft meat of your thighs so tightly he might leave fingertip shaped bruises behind.
With his head thrown back, his mouth hanging open in soft pants, drunk on how warm and soft your insides are gripping his girth, he doesn’t realise that the battering of your cervix has caused you to blink back to a state of semi consciousness.
You had been having such a wonderful experience on the other side, dreaming of being caressed and kissed in the most romantic of ways, gently teased to the point of desperation by whichever faceless figure your brain had conjured up, not that you’d be able to remember them, and halfway through this princess like treatment you’d felt being filled and stretched out in the most delicious of ways. Whoever had decided to entertain you was reaching so deep in your guts you could almost feel your brain shortcuiting with each thrust that seemed to be perfectly aimed at the entrance of your womb. The slow drag of their hips letting you feel the ridges of their cock alongside your walls, each one catching at the entrance of your cunt making you softly whimper at their loss, only to pierce you back once more with a precise nudge right at the spongy spot you never even knew you could reach on your own.
Slowly blinking yourself awake, your drowsy brain has yet to completely focus on the blue clad figure looming above you, you realise is standing right in between your legs and probably is your mysterious benefactor. The toe curling pleasure you’re being subjected to doesn’t help your dazed perception, as with each thrust you feel yourself slipping more and more out of any consistency of thought.
Being fucked right back to sleep sounds oh so tempting right about now.
The reverie Belphegor had relegated himself to while indulging in his depraved desires gets shattered as he feels your hands weakly tug at the bottom of his shirt, he stills inside you as panic flooding in his veins as he realises the consequences of being caught in such a compromising situation, his blunt nails biting at your skiing with how hard he’s gripping them, mindlessly begging whichever entity rules over him to spare him.
But it’s not long before he realises you’re not trying to stop him, surprisingly so, considering you’d woken with him fucking you with reckless abandon. no, you don’t care about the technicalities right now, all you care about is to chase your own selfish pleasure and if the way you’re insistently tugging his clothes is anything to go by, you’re starting to lose your patience with him.
“More” you whine like a petulant child, your voice still croaking with the last remnant of sleep you haven’t managed to completely shake off “please, don’t stop”
A speechless chuckle gets knocked out of his chest as he repositions himself to regain some leverage he lost in his stupor, his grip on your body finally assured and neither hesitant nor fearful anymore, wasting no time to start back up the ruthless pace he had set for himself before you awoke, hellbent on getting you as drunk on his cock as he got on the taste of your cunt alone.
“What a fucking shameless slut.” looking over your lust filled expression, eyes glazed over in pleasure and lids droopy with the last remnants of lethargy, he leans down as he proceeds to free your chest from the constricts of your clothing, letting it bounce freely with each thrust “You just needed someone to fuck away all that stress didn’t you? Such a fucking whore you didn’t even bother to check who it was that is fucking you, you only care about getting stuffed uh?” his wandering hands, busy groping at the newly revealed skin, emphasising his words with a harsh tug at your nipple.
Wanting to deny his allegations, ashamed at being called out so blatantly, you try to counter, but as proper sentences evade you at the moment, you resort to pouting and whining at his teasing, hoping you manage to convey your frustration with him through a half assed glare.
He would honestly feel bad for saying such cruel things if it weren’t for the way you deliciously tightened around him at each jab, resulting in only appeasing him even more. “Fuckin’ bitch, trying to deny your true nature” his palm coming down on your chest to punish your brattiness, he doesn’t let up, if anything he becomes more cruel, angling himself away from the spot you need him to hit, he leans back up to his full height above you, eyes wandering where your bodies are joined, grinning at the wetness collecting at the base of his cock “you can lie all you want but the way your pussy is sucking me in right now tells me otherwise”
“But if you really don’t want it I can just leave, you know?” and with an abrupt pause, he withdraws from your tight walls, deciding that depriving himself even further is worth the desperate cry that rips from your throat the instant his the tip of his cock pops free from your cunt. “What? You said it yourself, you didn’t like it.” a sadistic smirk paints his features with dark glee “now you wanna tell me you did? Make your mind up princess, which one is it?” punctuating his demands with a couple of slaps of his cock right on your sopping entrance, his grin widening with each wet sound, basking in your embarrassment.
You consider your options, having to beg Belphegor so shamelessly doesn't really suit your character, usually too collected to fall this low, but you’re too high strung and past the point of caring to search for any ounce of shame that might still be present in your body to not give in.
“I- I want it. Please.” one eyebrow raises expectantly, pressuring you into putting a bit more effort into it, clearly not ready to give into your pleas so easily.
After a shallow inhale, you start over once more, trying to paint your face in the lewdest way possible, eyebrows drawn up in the middle of your forehead, a bite swollen spit covered pout and the most desperate look you can muster in your tired state, adding the cherry on top with your elbows closing in around your chest, pushing your tits together to seem more alluring.
You hope this will please the demon they’re aimed at enough to stop him from holding your orgasm over your head and finally fuck you into the mattress like you deserve.
“Want your cock. Want you to fuck me full like the cock hungry whore I am”
You’re suddenly flipped over onto your front, face shoved inn between the pillows, you barely have enough time to lift your head to breathe better before he shoves himself inside of you in one swift thrust.
“There's a good slut.” a burning sensation to your ass accompanied by a resounding smack punctuating the sentence.
The sudden sensation of being filled past what you thought was possible making your eyes roll to the back of your head once more, jaw hanging open letting your tongue freely loll out and all the moans he manages to force out of you echo unrestrained in each corner of the attic. The abuse he subjects your poor sleep damp body to, and most of all your cervix, only helps your brain melt even further.
He drapes himself over you, his bare chest pressing onto your back, having rid himself of his top somewhere along the way, but you’re too entranced with the way his cock is filling you up so well to even question it. He seems to push all of his weight onto you, almost suffocating you and overpowering you in the most delectable weight, keeping himself slightly elevated only by an elbow, to help himself spew filth right into your ear, uncaring whether you register his words or not “You’re loving this aren't you? Who would’ve thought you’d be begging to be used like a fucking cocksleeve, with how collected you usually are.”
The only answer he manages to get is a string of high pitched noises of agreement, jumbled in between cries of pleasure and butchered versions of his name, your dignity nowhere to be found as you beg for him to help you eventually cum. He might be sadistic and cruel but he’s not truly evil, and as he feels you twitching uncontrollably around him he shoves the hand not busy keeping his weight from completely crushing you in between your lower body and the comforter, blindly thumbing at your clit to help you crash into the high he knows is approaching, groaning in delight at how you tighten around him
“You better fucking cum before I do, because if you loose your occasion I’m leaving you here high and dry like you’d deserve. But I’m feeling nice today, so go on, cum. Cum right the fuck now, princess.”
The tension doesn’t build up like you’re used to, instead, it climbs at record speed and crashes into you all at once making crumble underneath him, body jerking and spasming in the restricted space you’re granted, shivers running down your body leaving your thighs twitching uncontrollably. The way your gummy walls flutter around him as he fucks you through your peak triggers his own orgasm as his hips stutter and with one final well placed thrust he empties himself inside of you with a low groan of your name, letting your greedy pussy milk him dry of anything he has to offer.
Both of you lay there, unmoving and basking in the afterglow, uncaring of the sweat clinging to your skin starting to stick or of his cum dripping in between your bodies as his dick softens inside of you, slowly reconsidering the improbable setting of what just transpired.
Soft butterfly kisses being placed on the juncture of your neck break you out of your post orgasm daze as you finally manage to clearly see your mysterious lover, as if asking for forgiveness and trying to gauge what your reaction will be after he gifted you with what he thinks is a mind blowing experience.
A tentative lilac eye, his twin still hidden beneath bluish and white bangs, meets your tired gaze and you decide to take some pity in the poor demon before you.
“I think ‘m gonna sleep some more now.”
“Uh? Wha-”
“Wanna sleep ‘m spent, you tired me out” making a move to snuggle into him even further “‘s that ok with you?”
“I- yeah, yeah it is” helping you turn around to face him, trying to get you in a more comfortable position
“Wait I’m still in-”
“nooo” you whine, slinging one of your legs around his hip to bring him closer, not willing to let him escape you just yet “wanna stay like this, ‘s warm” you tighten your walls around his soft cock once more to show him exactly what you mean.
“Ok" slightly taken aback from your behaviour, not used to you being so blunt with your desires, but welcoming it wholeheartedly "whatever you want.”
Humming in agreement you let your eyes fall shut, slurring a last sentence before letting sleep overcome you once more “G’night, Belphie”
“G’night, princess” he whispers with a kiss to your forehead and his arms holding you close, he lets himself doze off, soon to join you in dreamland.
I HAVE THE H WORD THOUGHTS RN IF I COME UP WITH SOME FLUFFY STUFF I’LL SEND IT LOL. Making it a point to piss Tamaki off every day. Somehow you end up in his room, ass in the air, vibrator set on high hammering on your clit, and tamaki slapping your thighs all while calling you all the mean names he could think of <3 you fuck with his sanity, he will ( quite literally) fuck with yours. He wouldn’t look at you for weeks after that bc we all know this man is red as fuuuck hdjsj- - 🍡
PLEASE IM ASKING FOR HORNY STUFF THIS ISNT EXACTLY A FLUFFY BLOG!
cw: name calling, slut shaming, degradation, overstim
pissing tamaki off is such a specific thing like i feel like he's usually grumpy but most of the time he pins his negative feelings as a fault of himself... but he knows you're trying to make him mad and it's making him more upset to know it's working, he hates the way you tease and flaunt, the way you lead others on trying to get a jealous rise out of him. and even if it's not that, you do little things on purpose that you know bug him, pet peeves if you will. it all builds and builds until he snaps and tamaki has to grab you by your wrist like he's scolding a child and drag you off to his room where he knew he had what he needed.
tamaki is usually soft spoken, and chose his words carefully when he spoke to others, but right then with you all to himself and his anger a fuming mass fueling his actions he doesn't care what is coming out of his mouth. he doesn't care how much your jiggling thighs sting because you need to be punished and he will make sure you get it through your pretty little head.
tamaki spanking your thighs and switching to your ass when you don't stop fucking whining about them 'oh, it huuurts, stop it! ow,' you'd squeak like an annoying little cunt, even though you're gushing for him. speaking of, your poor little pussy is all wet and pulsing with his hand pressing a vibe to your clit, refusing to take it away unless you squirted for him.
"please, 'maki, i can't, i can't do it," you cry, pawing at his sheets, naked body rocking and squirming.
tamaki smacked your ass, "stop talking like that. stupid bitch, you can, and you will."
"you've done it before, moaning like a fucking whore too, so why can't you now?" he pinched your thigh, hard enough you know it'll bruise, your poor skin aching and hot to the touch. "tell me."
"want-- need more," you admitted in a hushed tone.
"i see. you needy slut, you just can't leave me alone, you're such a pest." he spread your cheeks with his fingers and rubbed the vibrator on your pussy, flicking the setting up higher and earning a sobbing moan from your throat. "tamaki this, tamaki that," he spanked your ass again, harder. "tamaki, tamaki, tamaki." he mocked you with his teeth grit.
"well, you've got my full attention now. fuck, just cum."
you of course do end up squirting all over his bed, crying and whimpering apologies you know he'll accept once he's done with you.
cw: bondage (pillory), spitting, impact play (flogging, pussy slaps, spanking), brat taming, humiliation, degradation, fingering, squirting, overstim, vaginal sex, size kink, anal play, creampie, cum play/eating, no after care.
wc: 2.8k>
a/n: reblogs > likes. happy late birthday tsukki. no minors or blank blogs. big thank you to luna and camille for beta reading :>
it hurts. the splintered wood digs into the soft skin of your neck and wrists in the confinements of the pillory. your awkward posture strains your spine and legs. it's dirty. the dirt caked floor of the dark and musty dungeon you're stuck in is only illuminated by a ill kept wax candle on the wall. you've no clue what time it is or even what day it is, the lack of windows effectively cutting off all communication to the world outside- all except for him, of course.
you hear the familiar tmp, tmp of heavy boots coming down the corridor and clinking of keys before he's at your door, peering through the bars at you with that signature sinister eye. once the door opens he puts his keys back on the loop on his sash, dark cloak hiding them once again, just barely out of reach.
"how's my favorite prisoner doing?" he asks. he's not looking at your face, instead, his eyes are laying heavy against your chest, suddenly reminding you of how bare you are, remembering his denial of any clothing on your person with a quick "criminals don't deserve clothes.” the scoff you send his way has his eyes meeting yours, evil glint present as ever.
"still not talking?" he questions, more rhetorical than anything. you drop your head to break his gaze, your eyes now trained on your bare feet that step on the dirty brick until his boots come into your field of vision. thin fingers dig into the meat of your face to regain eye contact.
"i've been patient, tried being nice," at this you laugh, "nice" was not a part of tsukkishima's character. his fingers dig deeper into your face causing you to wince. "but it seems you wanna do things the hard way." he states, pushing your head off his hand before stepping back slightly.
your eyes stay on him as he undoes the bow on the sash that covers his waist, eyes watching the way he opens his garment to reveal an array of floggers tied to a belt on his body. he catches the way your eyes widen, sneering at the panicked look on your face.
"we're gunna try something different today," he starts, hands coming to untie a decent sized flog. "we're gunna see..." he continues, stepping closer, with each word. "if this. will help. you talk." he smiles, face teasingly close to yours.
he steps back slightly with a sneer to drag the cool leather over your hands, letting you feel what you were about to get. without warning his hand reels back and a heavy whip smacks hard against the soft skin of your tummy, red blooming in tiny strips at the contact. your eyes widened and a choked gasp croaks out before you even know what's going on. another smack comes to your left breast before you can even think about how it hurts, then another to the right one, and another, and another, repeating the process on both as he watches how red and puffy your buds get under his hand.
He grips your face again to see the tears welling in your eyes, his own darkening at the sight of you. "well?" he asks, "feel like talking yet?".
as heavy handed and cruel as he was, you weren't planning on giving in this quick, no, that'd be too easy. you look at him defiantly before spitting directly on his cheek, to which he closes his eyes and drops his head, a dark chuckle filling your ears.
his hand drops from your face to wipe at your spit, face now overcome with something darker, hungrier. his spit covered palm reels the flog back and smacks against your bare pussy, hard.
"fff'aaah!' you cry, legs buckling under you as the sting sets in, he's relentless though, landing smack after smack on your poor cunny till it's red and puffy like your chest, tears now flowing freely down your face. your wrists thrash in their wooden jail, eyebrows knit tightly together as his hand keeps going.
your heavy breathing is all that's heard as you see him drop the flog. watching as it lays on the ground. he catches the way you look back up at him, face red and teary in a silent plea for mercy. Unfortunately, he opens the robe once more to reach for a slightly bigger flog, this one looking heavier than the last.
his hand reaches over to grab at the hair at your scalp to force your look up, a cry leaving you as your neck strains in the confines.
"think you can spit on me and get away with it? i was being easy on you earlier, was gunna stop after a few but you asked for this." he spits, hacking an awful sound from the back of this throat to spit back in your face.
your body tenses as you watch him move out of your sight behind you, panic setting in. With no warning, he lands the first hard smack on the bouncy flesh of your ass.
"ah!" you cry, flog landing relentlessly at your supple skin. He gives your ass a break as he drops the flog to smack at the backs of your thighs, more pained sobs coming from you. he switches his movements up and has the flog coming to smack your puffy cunt, earning a moan from you, which surprises you both.
he halts his movements and pauses for just a second before landing another smack to your sex, pulling another moan from you.
"are you... enjoying this?" he asks, curiosity filling his tone though aimed for condescension.
you don't answer, heavy breathing and sniffling filling the air. at your lack of response he lets the flog drop as he bends down behind you, fingers coming to spread the fat of your ass to peek at your holes -soaked.
"you're disgusting" he chuckles, but you can hear the pull in his voice. you squeal when his fingers come down to spread the lips of your pussy open as he curses under his breath at how it glistens. "you're soaked," he states, fingers running over your folds to collect your arousal before straightening back up to bend over your body, he reaches his hand over the pillory to shove his fingers in your mouth. your eyes widen at the intrusion but also at the feeling of something hard pressing into your ass -and not the flogs.
"taste. taste how fucking wet you are from me hitting you. you're fucking filthy."
choked sounds come from you as he shoves his long fingers in your mouth without care. he pulls them out and smears the spit all over your face ante landing a heavy tap against your cheek, a whine leaving you.
“shut up," he mutters, coming back to crouch at eye level with your holes. you hear sounds of clothes hitting the floor and then big hands coming up to spread your pussy once more. another embarrassed whine leaves you as you shift in your restraints. a breathy "h'oh" and a squeak from the pillory echos as your captor blows cool air directly on your clit, your tiny opening squeezing around nothing as more slick is pushed out.
without warning you feel two lithe fingers easily make their way into your cunt, courtesy of your mess, an automatic squeeze and shudder on your end pulls a mirthy huff from behind you. tsukishima has to swallow a groan at how tight and hot your insides feel flexing around him, heavy cock twitching in response
his fingers give a testing curl you and effortlessly hit your angel spot with their length, the reaction immediate as your muscle squeezes around him tighter than before and a high "mnn'ah!" leaves you. callous fingers adopt a relentless pace inside you as he batters into your spot, bringing you to your high faster than both of you had thought.
your body was still buzzed from the incessant flogging and now from his ministrations, your mouth opened in a silent scream while a third finger is introduced. the stretch is enough to make you shake as the heat in your stomach winds toward its breaking point, something unfamiliar building.
"f-fe- feels weird -nghh! i dont- i th-" you choke out, wrist rubbing raw against the wood, "i'm gunna p-pee! ple-" you're cut off by a large hand coming over your mouth, a "tch" heard from behind you as he stands to his full height for a better grip on your face. you scream into his palm as the coil finally snaps, cum shooting out of you and all down his wrist. his movements don't stop, fingers pulling out of you to rub your twitching clit he had left ignored, spraying cum everywhere and all over the both of you. the pillory squeaks with your shaking, muffled screams of never before felt pleasure die in his hand, drool collecting on the inside while tears roll down your face.
both hands leave your body and you're gasping for breath, legs still twitching from the aftershocks as you let your head hang, exhausted. your ears ring from the intensity and you feel yourself continue to squeeze around nothing, your eyes catch the mess you made on the floor and you become aware of the residue from your orgasm continuing to drip down your legs.
in all honesty you'd forgotten about the man in the room with you for a second before a spank to your puffy pussy has you squealing. his boots come into your line of view again, pale hand carding itself in your hair to force eye contact once more. he's met with your fucked out face and pupil blown wide, red tint over your cheeks as tears continue falling and mixing with your drool.
He’s thankful for the mess you made on his cloak, hiding the wet spot that's started to grow on his pants from his neglected cock.
"you got me dirty." he spits, face coming down to mere inches from yours, a pink hue across his own cheeks. he leans in to whisper in your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin, "now i'm gunna get you dirty."
before you have time to even process what he said he drops your head once more, boots leaving your field of vision as he takes his place behind you again. once the ringing in your ears subside you can hear him pulling his shirt off and fiddling with the knot on his pants, undoing his belt and letting them pool around his ankles. his cock twitches eagerly when finally freed, tip red and swollen with pearls of clear running down the length of it. he gives himself a few tugs as he shuffles closer to you, indifferent facade cracking as you hear how ragged his breaths are without even touching you.
the same large hands you've grown familiar to find themselves on your hips as he presses himself against your skin, one hand coming to maneuver his cock under you and rub between your engorged lips. he catches your clit with his tip a few times and you whine, trying to move away from the stimulation. "don't run." he warns, a hard spank coming down on your bottom.
he reels his body back a bit to line himself up with your hole, scoffing at the way you try sucking him in, "greedy. my filthy prisoner still wants more? hmm?" he asks rhetorically. he pushes the tip in ever so slightly and you both groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he speaks again, voice an octave lower, "i'll give you more".
with that he bottoms out in one harsh thrust, fighting the urge to cum right then and there at the noise you let out and the erratic squeezing of your walls. he rocks his hips experimentally as he grounds himself, stilling for only a moment before starting a brutal tempo. the force of his hips so strong he lifts your body up off the ground until you're barely able to stand on your tippy toes, the entire pillory rocking with you both. he sneaks a hand under chest to tug and tweak meanly at your nipples, still red from earlier. your mewls only fueling his relentless abuse of your body.
"you keep clenching," he gruffs out, voice strained, "d'you hear that?" his question punctuated with a particularly hard thrust, " the sound of skin clapping against skin fuels your embarrassment as you realize he's talking about how loud your pussy's being, squelching and sucking lewdly. your eyes squeeze shut and you shake your head as if that'd be enough to brush him off.
"not talking?" he tuts, fingers leaving your nipples to come back to your ass, his hands spread your cheeks apart almost painfully and you flinch when you feel a thick wad of spit coming down on your unused hole. "maybe you'll talk if i play in here?" he taunts, mean finger rubbing over your puckered skin.
your body tenses up at this, panic laced in your voice "n-no! not t-there! n-ahh!". he cuts you off again with one of his fingers slowly pushing past the tight ring of muscle, your pussy squeezing impossibly tighter around him as he gets to the first knuckle deep in your ass, a dark laugh bubbling in his chest at how you push your hips back to meet his despite your desperate protests.
"fuck... fuck! you keep getting tighter, i can hardly pull out anymore," he groans, "i knew you'd like this." his voice is breathy as his thrusts getting sloppier. your high "ah ah ah!"'s chime in his ears as he feels you getting closer.
"m gunna.. g- gunna," you gasp, "gunna cum!" you whine, the last word drawn out wantonly. his pace is desperate as he fucks you through your high, cum splashing all over his balls and thighs as the force of your orgasm nearly pushes him entirely out of your pussy. the grip on your waist is bruising as he's only a few thrusts behind when he finally cums with a loud and pained groan, body hunching over with his head resting on your back while he continues to fuck both of you into overstimulation, cock twitching while loads of hot cum start filling you up.
you stay like that for a while as you both catch your breaths, bodies sweaty and heaving from exhaustion. he straightens back up to pull his softening cock out of you, a spent sob leaving your body at the friction while continuing to clench around him erratically. he hisses when he finally pulls out, cum coated dick falling between his legs as he spreads you open to watch in awe the way you push his cum out, the mess on the floor growing by the second.
in a haze he brings his face down to slurp his creampie out, your screams of "no! no! too much s'too much!" falling deaf on his ears as he uses muscled arms to keep your hips in place, only pulling off when he deems enough cum sucked out. he makes his way in front of you again, his fucked out face crouching in front of yours to pull you into a uncoordinated kiss by the jaw, you start to sputter when you realize he's pushing the cum he ate out of you back into your mouth with his tongue.
when he finally pulls away -reluctantly at that, he suppresses a smirk at how you try and follow his lips, his pupils just as blown as yours as they burn into you. "swallow." he orders between breaths, only letting go of your face when he sees your throat bob with his command.
"open", it comes out uncharacteristically softer than both of you expect, but you listen nonetheless. shiny puffy lips parting to reveal the present he gave you had been swallowed. he can't help the smile that comes from your obedience. is this what he had to do to get you to listen?
he offers a hushed "good." with a soft tap at your cheek. he makes his way behind you as he wipes himself off, pulling his pants back up and grabbing his robe off the floor, dusting it off a bit before putting it back on. you're too fucked out to notice him making his way toward the locked door again, attention only falling on him when he speaks.
"i'll be back later to see if you're ready to talk," he starts, keys jingling as he opens the door and steps out, speaking to you through the bars , "or if we'll have to do things the hard way again".
req: yes | wc: 718 | cw: degradation, public sex | part 1 | minors dni
a/n: much anticipated. i’m probably missing some cw’s, so please tell me.
Adepti were often regarded as above mortals. They did not need a lot of things that humans did, but in some categories, the mighty illuminated were inferior. Even adepti, as it seemed, couldn't control their libido.
That much was evident with Zhongli bouncing up and down your dick, with the warm water not slowing him down at all.
Adepti couldn't even keep bathing an innocent activity.
The god on your dick bounced with an expertise, one expected from doing so for thousands of years. Still, even with how many times you've fucked his brains out, he never got tired of it.
There were still many things to try, things that even an Adetus such as Zhongli was afraid to try. If anything, retirement had softened him up even more.
Still, it seemed river sex, out in the middle of the wild, was in his comfort zone.
Or perhaps he was far too fucked out to even care.
"Ah, (y/n)!" His grip on your shoulders tightens, reminding you that you're the only thing keeping him up right now.
Initially, you were at his mercy. As you shared a kiss and your hands trailed along his toned body, he was the one to decide when to penetrate himself with your cock. Now, it seemed he no longer had the endurance to uphold this position.
You chuckle, "A God lacking stamina? Or is it my dick that makes you falter?"
He only whimpers in return, his bouncing getting slower and pathetic. But alas, it's an answer that you want.
"Which one is it, Morax?"
"You." He replies.
"Thought so." He moves to hide his embarrassed face in your neck, but you stop him before he can, cupping his jaw. "No hiding, darling."
It's not long before his exhaustion catches up to him, to the point where he's only sitting with a dick in his ass.
"Tsk, tsk," You tut at him. "Can't get the job done?"
He shakes his head timidly. You have a feeling he's more disappointed in himself than you are.
"Do you want me to take over?"
"Yes." He replies. You have to give him credit for being vocal about it, at least, even with how ashamed he probably feels.
When you flip him over, the rocks dig into his back, but all he can think about is you. A few bruises are a small price to pay to have your cock rearranging his guts.
"How does it feel, darling," Your pace is slow, painstakingly slow, and he's far too ashamed and afraid to ask for more. "to be fucked in a river in the middle of wilderness?"
It's only now that he realizes it, but his little dick twitches excitedly. "Thrilling."
You chuckle, "Any pilgrim could walk in on their god cumming down a stream. What would you do then?"
As Zhongli thinks, you speed up. It's still not as much as he'd love, but it's enough to empty him of coherent thoughts. Even so, he scrambles to give you an answer, knowing only punishment follows if he stays silent. "I-"
"Sorry, is this pace stopping you from thinking?" He nods quickly. "Shame."
Much to his dismay - and fortune, at the same time - you slow down. "I wouldn't care."
"You wouldn't?" Right as you say that, you hit a particularly pleasing spot.
"Oh!"
"How naughty." You speed up, banishing all thoughts in his head once again.
His only thoughts are about your dick pleasuring him, barely tangible yes's or no's, though he can't complain. You don't pay attention to his state, nor the way his eyes roll back in pleasure.
"You wouldn't care about another adeptus?"
The poor little thing can barely even process your words, "No."
"No? Well, since you're not bothered at all, scream my name so loud that it reaches Celestia; will you?"
As if on cue, he screams out, "(y/n)!"
Cum spews out of his tip, washing off down the stream. You wondered if Cloud Retainer, Mountain Shaper, or Moon Carver will discover the substance and wonder what it is. Or, perhaps they'll find you right here, right now.
"You have no shame, do you?"
You continue to fuck out his clenched ass, which is really not helping his mind. Nevertheless, he shakes his head.
Warnings: DARK CONTENT AHEAD. mentions of murder, blood and gore, description of injury, predator/prey kink, strapon, dumbification, rough sex, degradation.
Word count: 2.1k
A/N: part 2 of ghost face!Ymir
Mean.
That’s how she had described herself in that moment; mean, mean, mean. Apparently not mean enough when she’s bullying her thick cock into your convulsing body, smearing something unmentioned against your arched back and clapping her hips hard, hard, harder into your ass.
Something catches your elbow, a branch? It hurts, stings as it tears your skin deep enough to bring beads of crimson to the surface. There’s wetness on your bare feet, leaves sticking to your shins and mud caking your exposed thighs, staining the stupid, stupid white nightgown you were dressed in.
And nothing else. It pained you to run, not because of your feet, but because of your breasts heaving and the biting wind catching between your legs, hissing through the welts shaped like fingers around your throat. Time had stopped since she’d let you go, since she’d brought that dreadful mask close to your face and demanded you look at her with fake sweetness in her voice, cooing at you when you start crying and batting open your legs from where you had been subconsciously clenching them together at the simper and the hot breath you felt wet your neck. It was nighttime, you knew that because it was impossible to see anything two foot in front of you, darkness swirling and beckoning you closer, promising you freedom where you knew barbed wire and broken glass lay in wait for prey as pretty, and as innocent as the others.
Were you innocent? With how clean your hands were, yes but with how soiled your inner thighs were, how drippy you were with every step, every tender shuffle around trees and through bracken; no, you were by no means innocent of the crimes beholden of her and her mask, and her fingers, and her cock. Tears sprung from your eyes involuntarily at a twig snapping in the distance, body freezing and breath catching in your throat, clogging your chest and causing you to splutter with fear, and with something else. You had seen her in the bathroom before, tightening the straps round her thighs and waist, shoving something into her jeans, cursing when she admired herself in the mirror for a moment; the bulge at her crotch pronounced and so - mouth watering. And yet, it belonged to someone with no face, a mask for you to cry at and claw at in the throes of your orgasms, plastic cold on your lips when you desperately search for a kiss you knew deep down would never come.
That was your fate, that was was awaited you when she finally caught you in the damp, in the damp, creeping up on you like she did with all her other victims; only their end would be met with a very different kind of warmth and wet. But the chase was no less terrifying, no less - paralysing with the voice that echoes through your head,
“Be careful not to run too far, don’t want those pretty feet all cut up - might slow you down and heh - where’s the fun in running down a wounded prey?”
Wounded. Hurt. She was so mean to you, thinking you were some lost soul she had plucked from the suburbs with the promise of lust and love and something thicker than the two. That was the promise that awaited you too, rubbed into your bottom and hitching the silk of your dress, bulging so, so close to where you felt yourself dripping with need for her. A hand disappears between your thighs, sobbing at the slick you find and you almost collapse when you accidentally swipe over your hardened clit, throbbing and ready, and too neglected to even think about.
How - how dare you even be this aroused? How stupid are you? As stupid as she tells you when she’s got you bouncing on her fingers in the back of her van that smells funny and has bottles of bleach in the footwell? Probably more so if the mere memory of that has you whimpering and half a second away from cumming in the middle of this god forsaken forest.
♡.
She can see you from a mile away, no - smell you. You are stupid, a stupid little whore who begs so pretty and so lovely for her cock near every night. Can’t get enough of the thing, can’t get enough of her even though - even though you have no idea what she looks like, no idea what her lips taste of, what colour her eyes are, whether she still has those freckles her mom used to count before tucking her in.
You were her prey tonight, you were her victim, her flesh to carve and maim, her blood to spill, her cunt to fuck as she pleased. And there you were, leaning against a tree with your silly little hand stuck between your silly little thighs, whimpering and moaning; a naive little doe in the eyes of a beast unnamed by humankind and feared by those of its own specie. Ymir had to give it to you, even beneath her mask she could smell your arousal, leaking into the wind and sending blood rushing to her cheeks; addictive and almost as mouth watering as the blood caked to the bottom of her converse.
Comfy things they were, convenient, easy to chuck in the washer and forget about for an hour. Comfy, light, good enough to chase in, quiet enough to sneak up close to you, close enough to smell the perfume she makes you wear, close enough to hear the lewd clicking of your fingers swiping through your sodden cunt, close enough to whisper deep and low,
“Gotta run bunny, run while you still have legs to walk on,”
♡.
Your scream echoes around you, feet thundering as loud as your heart, blinding you almost as you tear through the trees, down valleys and up hillocks. You didn’t care for the tears and bruises on your legs, didn’t care for the rips in your nightgown and the leaves clinging to your hair; she was close, so close and you - you could barely breathe. Adrenaline shoots through you, bones cold and skin colder with the sweat clinging to your pores. Right, left, a little way upwards - there was a big tree back there you could maybe hide in, or down by the stream? - a cry leaves your throat when your foot catches on a fallen branch, knees buckling and -
“No - no, up bunny, c’mon now,”
How is she still so close? How can you still smell the rancid stench of her clothing and see the ominous white of her mask through the dark? You’ve been running for hours, screaming with every howl and hoot and shudder in the earth, crying when the clouds part and reveal the new moon, dark and haunting and somehow ridiculing you. All this for some dick? Pathetic. Whore.
“I don’t want to play anymore!” Why are you stopping? Your body isn’t supposed to be doing this, you’re supposed to be running, scrambling, sobbing for mercy and yet - you’re slowing down with painful wheezes and gasping cries, “I don’t want to! I’m tired! I’m scared! I want to stop playing!”
Home didn’t even enter your mind, that was a foreign word to you now, strange and unfamiliar because home didn’t really exist anymore, not really, not in this blood thirsty world. You don’t stop moving, but you don’t speed up, clutching your chest and trying desperately to swallow down your fear, your saliva, your terror at the huffing and growling and beastial noises coming up behind you.
“You - are pathetic,”
The pain comes minutes after you hit the ground, cry muffled by long, lean fingers dripping with something and nothing at the same time. An arm hitches your hips up, propping you up on your knees and gravel digs into your skin, palms tearing on brambles and the flush of blood over your knuckles makes you -
“You’re so fucking - you’re such a whore,”
Even covered in mud, out of breath, crying and snotting, bloody and bruised, and most likely concussed; you’re grinding back into her crotch and moaning like a bitch in heat. Even in the darkness, Ymir can see the slick smearing across the tight material of her jeans, sliding with the audible pulse of your cunt and she almost rolls her eyes, almost snaps and brings your neck with it but maybe, maybe that’s why she gives in so easily, maybe that’s why she lifts one leg to brace and shoves your face into the mud, maybe that’s why she flips your dress over your hips and undoes her fly - because she likes it, she likes the way you’re so desperate and so dumb for her, so stupid that you blatantly overlook the knife lying only inches from your nose and can’t hear the zip ties clattering on her belt,
“Fucking fine then - if you want it so bad, if you’re fuckin’ gagging for my cock then take it, fuckin’ take it,”
A single slap to your clit has you keening and clawing at the dirt, thrashing and almost looking as tough you’re trying to get away from her, but she knows, she knows all this is because you’re so desperate to feel her deep and hard, just how you like it best. You scream, you arch your back, you’re positively weeping when Ymir forces the strap inside of you, thrusting down, down to where she knows you’ll drip pearly white and gush so nicely for her.
“Should’a run bunny, should’a done what ghost face wanted - might’a gone a bit nicer on your stupid whore cunt,”
Your whole body jiggles with her thrusts, being shoved up and through the leaf litter, hands scrambling for purchase and she’s sure you loose a nail in the fight, but you’re too busy leaking down her thighs to notice the blood smearing on your cheek.
“Nngh - f - fu -,” you’ve got a mouthful of mud and your breasts rub raw on the ground, but there’s a band in your belly and you can feel something building, feel claws down your back and latching on to the nape of your neck, pushing you further into the ground, a beast crowding over you, hard and big and dark. Pain blossoms over your spine as you are bent in half, ass so high in the air that you’re almost balancing on your tiptoes, skin tingling with the slamming of her hips into yours. Ymir spares you nothing, a fate worse than death maybe, splitting you open over and over with the girth of her cock, heavy against your cervix and bullying that soft spot over and over until she can see the sticky webs dripping from your pussy, fat lips plush against the silicon balls with every hard, hard, mean thrust.
Yes, this is where she’s mean, this is where ghost face is horrible and terrible and as mean as can be. Hardly letting up when you scream through your orgasm, gasping for breath and on the verge of hyperventilating, legs shaking and struggling to hold yourself up against the dizzying assault on your cunt. Hardly letting up when you sob and cry out for - something, more, deeper, harder -
“Please! More! Don’t - nagh - don’t stop!” There’s nothing behind your eyes, crossing and rolling and fluttering when the wind catches just right on your clit, pulsing and angry and beating with your erratic heart, and Ymir thinks maybe this is her calling instead of terror and horror and the mask. Maybe she’s been put on this earth to bully your sensitive, needy pussy every minute of the day, maybe God looked at her soul and decided that it belonged on top of yours, inside of yours, owning yours the same way she owns your cunt, your body, your mind.
And you don’t even know her fucking name.
It’s a shame really, she’d much rather have you beg for her cock, Ymir’s cock rather than lashing out at whatever name comes into your tiny little brain.
S’mean really, how Ymir threatens to choke you on her cock day in and day out, and doesn’t even have the audacity to tell you her name or show you her face. But what’s really mean, really fucking mean of her is the next time she brings home a pretty innocent church girl to set out in the woods around her cabin; you’re there too, ass up face down and taking her cock like the proper perfect whore you are and Ymir finds they scream so much louder when they can hear you cumming in spurts and sprays through the fog.
