w/c: NON-CON! smut, dub-con, nickname:bambi, pretty little thing, man handling, degrading words, dddne
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The window was left wide open, moon leaving a light cast on your bed,
curtains swaying, allowing the cold breezy night air fill your room, along with something darker…
You lay in nothing but a tank top and panties, drowning in blankets
Rafe,
He stands at the end of your bed admiring you.
He reaches out and pulls down the blanket, now at your feet
Making you curl up and shiver feeling exposed
“What a pretty little thing, too bad that’ll all change once i ruin you for myself”
He kisses your forehead and slowly pulled your top down, your bare chest and hard nipples popping out
He cups each of your boobs carefully, lightly caressing them with his thumbs making you whine and twitch
“Sh sh it’ll be over soon, just need t’ use you for a while…”
He places a pillow in the centre of the bed then lifts you up and let’s your head rest on it so your legs are dangling off the bed.
He’s there shirtless in between your legs, leaning over you to kiss and taste everywhere that’s within reach
While doing so, he drags his big hand down your stomach and to your panties, using his middle and ring finger to rub you teasingly slow.
You’re still sound asleep, but you start to squirm and clench your thighs.
It’s only been about a minute
“Fuck y/n, ‘ve had enough.”
He stands up panting, not taking his pervy eyes off you while he quickly unbuckles his belt, dropping his pants along with his boxers
He chucks your legs over his broad shoulders and drags you closer to the edge of the bed giving him better access to rub his angry tip through your now wet folds
He chuckles
Slowly peeling your eyes open, your met with a blurry yet familiar figure standing over you then a very familiar voice
“Hey there bambi, took you long enough, huh?”
“W-what are you doing?” You are able to lift your head up and look around
You see him naked on top of you, grinding and groaning
“Rafe! what-“
You bite your bottom lip trying to hold back a loud moan,
You dig your nails into the pillow your lying on and almost let out a scream of pleasure when he slowly slides the tip in
“What you like that?” He smirks
You close your eyes and foggily nod in return
“Use your words”
“Y-yeah it feels really good…” you roll your hips, squirming under him
“Fuckin hold still” he places his hands on your stomach
You flinch and notice he’s about to ram his big cock inside you, when the tip is already perfect enough for you
“Wait n-no ray!” You slightly sit up
He pauses and stares down at you blankly, seeming annoyed
“What bambi, hm?”
You finally fully wake up
“B-but why are you here, and why are we naked! You’re scaring me,ray” you pout and look up at him with teary doe eyes
“I’m fuckin pissed”
You sit up fully
“Why we can just talk about it, talk to me i’m here for you ray!, you don’t have to do this,”
You shake your head
He slams you to lay back down on the bed and you finally let out all of your tears
“I do bambi, need to be inside you”
He pecs your tear wet cheeks as if it’s a poor attempt to comfort you
he gets into position again
“Y-you can’t! Cause it’s too big..”
You whine, saying that in all honestly while thinking he might feel remorse and agree, little did u know he does agree, oh he knows.
he just doesn’t care
And honestly it shouldn’t be making him this, hard.
Or be boosting his ego this much
“It’ll work bambi, just do as i say yeah?”
You just close your eyes and nod,
It’s not like you wanted to disappoint him,
He’s always been there for you, always.
And now it was your turn,
But you do hesitate.
“Isn’t it gonna hurt?” Your chin wobbles while tears roll down your cheeks
“god i hope so.” He says, only annoyed you keep trying to stop him.
He slams into you without warning and immediately you let out a scream,
The feeling of being used like a toy burns.
You push and slap at his chest but he doesn’t budge on bit, just groans more and gets deeper
You eventually get the energy to push yourself back further across the bed getting five seconds of relief
“Just talk to me!” You plead
He grabs your ankles and pulls you back to where you were and gives you a pussy slap making your hips buck up
“Ah!”
“Fuck no, you feel too fuckin good around me y/n”
He pushes himself in again but something feels different this time, it feels good this time, like he’s stretched you out good
“holy shit” he gasps, acting as if he wasn’t just inside you 10 seconds ago
Spitting down on your clit, rubbing his thumb on it
The sensation is suddenly amazing, you roll your eyes back and grab ahold of his big biceps
“Shit -rafe!”
You hear a low rumbling chuckle escape him
“There she is..” he mumbles
“It feels, feels good now ray, really, good”
He smirks at you
“Fuck ‘m gonna come” he groans
“C-can you do it inside me….please!”
He chuckles
“Nasty slut. ‘course i will”
“Thankyou thankyou!” You grab his head as you feel his warm seed paint your swollen walls, it feels almost comforting.
“Fuuuckkk take my cum bambi,”
Knowing you haven’t came yet, he rode through his orgasm, still thrusting deep inside you while you moaned helplessly
He grabbed your hand and placed it on your belly
You gasped
“You’re in my belly…” you foggily say,
You could almost pass out from the amount of pleasure
“Rafe -Rafe!”
“Gonna come for me?” His fingers still dancing on your clit
“I am i am!” You squeeze your eyes shut, ready for it to hit while your hands are running along his biceps
“Look at me.” He demands
And you obey.
“Feel okay now?”he asks
“Amazing,” you pant, he tucks your hair behind your ear
Then mumbles against your cheek “Good, cause i’m not done with you yet”
Synopsis:: Sukuna has never liked concubines who try too hard to please him. He could always see right through them—their fake intentions and the fear hiding in their eyes whenever they had to attend to him. He hated all of it. Until her. Y/N was a new concubine who had arrived at his castle two months ago.
She was different from the others. She minded her own business and did exactly what she was told without trying to impress him. He had never requested her to serve him. Yet ever since she started serving him, he has not called on any of the other concubines. Now here she is, standing in front of him. Her naked body sits on his bed as his two cocks throb with need. His mouth feels dry, and his eyes stay locked on hers.
a/n: This is my first fanfic, and I’d like to gain experience by writing more like this. If something doesn’t feel right, please give me some tips! (Might suck)
The silence in his chambers was heavy, thick with the aftermath of another failed concubine. You could practically smell the lingering fear and cheap perfume as you approached the massive doors, your heart thudding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.
You were different. You'd learned that quickly. The other girls—all of them—were so transparent. They batted their eyelashes and practiced their simpering smiles, thinking they could fool the most powerful being in the world. They saw a throne, jewels, a path to a better life. You saw the monster. And you knew the only way to survive was to become invisible.
For two months, it had worked. You cleaned, you served, you kept your damn mouth shut and your eyes on the floor. You were a ghost, and that was fine by you.
So when the head attendant had fetched you, her face pale and her hands shaking, you knew your time was up.
"The Emperor requires your presence," she'd whispered, like saying it too loud might get her dragged in there too.
Now, here you were. The doors swung open on their own, revealing the beautiful chaos of his room. Shattered porcelain, torn silk, and in the center of it all, him.
Sukuna.
His back was to you, all muscle and tension. The air crackled around him, a dangerous, hungry energy that made your skin prickle.
"Come in," he growled, not bothering to turn. "Don't just stand there looking like a lost little rabbit."
You shuffled inside, your bare feet silent on the floor mats. You kept your head bowed, focusing on a loose thread in the rug.
"Look at me," he commanded.
You forced your eyes up, and the breath hitched in your throat. He'd turned, and all four of his crimson eyes were locked on you. No anger this time. Something much, much worse. Interest.
"Y/N," he rumbled, your name sounding foreign on his tongue. "Do you know why I threw that other whore out?"
You shook your head, throat too tight to speak.
"She bored me," he said, taking a step closer. "They all do. The perfumes, the fake smiles, the fear they try to hide behind batting eyelashes. It's disgusting. Pathetic."
He was so close now you could feel the heat coming off him. He reached out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they tilted your chin up.
"But you," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips. "You're not like them. No cheap perfume. No practiced looks. Just... you. Hiding in the corners like a scared little mouse."
His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and a jolt went through you.
"I've been watching you," he continued, his voice a low, possessive hum. "Scurrying around, trying so hard not to be seen. All it did was make me want to see more of you."
His other hand landed on your shoulder, the weight of it a clear claim.
"Strip," he ordered softly.
This was it. The moment you'd dreaded. Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the tie of your simple robe. The silk pooled at your feet, and you stood before him, naked and trembling under his intense gaze.
You expected him to laugh, to mock your soft, human body. But he didn't. He just looked, his four eyes roaming over every curve and dip like he was memorizing you. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
"On the bed," he commanded, his voice thick.
You moved mechanically, your legs feeling like lead. The cool silk of his sheets was a shock against your heated skin as you laid back, your hands clenched into fists.
He shed his own robe, and your eyes went wide. Oh. The rumors were true. Scars covered every inch of his powerful frame, a testament to a life of violence. And between his legs... two. Two thick, heavy cocks, both already hard and leaking with need, throbbed for you.
A dry chuckle escaped him. "See something you like, pet?" he asked, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you feel every inch."
He joined you on the bed, the frame groaning under his weight. He didn't give you time to think, to prepare. His mouth was on yours in a brutal, claiming kiss. It wasn't gentle; it was a punishment and a promise all at once. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, dominating yours completely.
One of his massive hands gripped your breast, squeezing almost to the point of pain before his thumb began to circle your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. The other hand slid down, down, down, until his fingers were tangling in the wet curls between your legs.
You gasped into his mouth as he found your clit, already swollen and aching. He chuckled, a dark, arrogant sound.
"Already soaked for me," he murmured against your lips. "Such a needy little thing. Did you get wet just from the thought of being ruined by me?"
You couldn't answer, couldn't think. His fingers were working magic, rubbing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked against his hand, a desperate whine escaping your throat.
"Please," you whimpered, tears already pricking at your eyes.
"Please what?" he growled, nipping at your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He licked the small bead away, his eyes rolling back in pleasure at the taste. "Beg for it properly, little mouse."
"Please, my Lord," you sobbed, your mind going hazy with need. "Please, I need... I need you."
That's what he wanted to hear. With a feral grin, he shifted, settling between your legs. He grabbed one of your ankles, lifting your leg to kiss a trail up your calf, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.
"Such pretty skin," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "So soft. Made to be marked up by me."
He positioned himself, the thick heads of both his cocks pressing against your dripping entrance. The sheer size of him was terrifying. There was no way he would fit.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. "I want you to watch as I ruin you for anyone else."
Your eyes met his, and you saw nothing but raw, primal hunger. He wanted to consume you, to break you, to fill you so completely you'd never be whole without him.
He pushed forward, and you cried out as the thick head of his first cock stretched you open. It burned, a delicious, stinging stretch that had your toes curling.
"Fuck, so tight," he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Gonna make this pretty little cunt mine."
He pushed deeper, inch by devastating inch, until he was fully seated inside you. You felt so full, so stretched, you could barely breathe. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to move, his thrusts slow and deep, grinding against your cervix.
"Feel that?" he grunted, his pace picking up. "Feel how deep I am? This is my favorite pussy now. All mine."
His words were filth, but they sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. You were his. This terrifying, powerful being had claimed you, and some sick part of you loved it.
Tears streamed down your face now, from pleasure, from pain, from the overwhelming intensity of it all. He noticed, and his cruel smirk widened.
"Aw, is my little mouse crying?" he cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. He leaned down and licked a salty tear from your cheek. "Don't worry, pet. I'll give you something to really cry about."
His thrusts became harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He was pounding into you now, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force. The bed creaked and groaned in protest, but you didn't care. All you could do was hold on for dear life as he used your body for his pleasure.
You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your stomach ready to snap. "Please," you sobbed, "can I... can I cum?"
"No," he barked, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding. "You don't get to cum until I say so. This is about my pleasure, not yours."
His other hand found your clit again, rubbing it harshly. The dual stimulation was too much. You were so close, teetering on the edge, but his denial kept you from falling over.
"Please, my Lord, please let me cum," you begged, your voice broken and hoarse. "I'll do anything, please!"
He let out a dark laugh. "Anything? Oh, I'll hold you to that, pet." He leaned down, his mouth next to your ear. "Cum for me. Now. Squeeze my cock and show me who you belong to."
The command sent you flying over the edge. Your vision went white as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure that left you shaking and sobbing. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock as he continued to thrust into you.
"Fuck, yes," he roared, his own release hitting him. He buried himself deep inside you, and you felt the hot rush of his cum filling you up, so much it started to leak out around his cock. He marked you, claimed you from the inside out.
He collapsed on top of you, his heavy body pinning you to the bed. You were
pinned beneath him, his weight a grounding, terrifying comfort. You could feel his hearts beating against your back, a frantic, powerful rhythm that matched your own. For a moment, there was only the sound of your combined breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something uniquely him.
You thought it was over. You foolishly thought you had a moment to recover.
But then he shifted, and you felt it. The second cock, still hard and demanding, pressed against your thigh. A fresh wave of panic, hot and sharp, shot through you.
"N-no," you whimpered, trying to squirm away. "I can't... my Lord, I can't take anymore."
His laugh was a low, dangerous rumble against your ear. "Can't?" he repeated, his voice laced with cruel amusement. "That's cute. You think you get a say?"
He grabbed your hips, flipping you over with an ease that was terrifying. Your face was pressed into the silk pillows, his hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back.
"I told you," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I'm going to ruin you. And I'm not done yet."
He spat, and you felt the wet heat hit your puckered hole. You flinched, a fresh sob tearing from your throat. He used his thumb to smear the slick around, the intimate, possessive gesture making your whole body tremble.
"Please," you begged, the word muffled by the pillow. "It's too much."
"It's never too much," he corrected, his voice dropping to a possessive hiss. "This is what you were made for. To take me. All of me. To be my perfect little cocksleeve."
He positioned the second, thick head at your tightest entrance. He didn't push in slowly. He thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.
A scream ripped from your lungs, a raw, pained sound that was swallowed by the pillow. It was too much. The stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness of having both of his thick cocks inside you at once. It was a sweet, exquisite agony.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "So fucking tight. Taking me so well, my pet. Such a good girl."
He started to move again, a punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. Every thrust pushed you deeper into the mattress, his balls slapping against your clit with enough force to send sparks of pleasure-pain through your entire body. He was using you, completely and utterly, and the thought was so debauched, so wrong, that it sent you hurtling toward another orgasm.
"You love this, don't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "Love being stuffed full of my cocks. Love being my dirty little whore."
You couldn't answer. You could only moan and sob as he pounded into you, chasing his own pleasure. His free hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack echoing in the room. The sting only added to the overwhelming sensations, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Look at you," he grunted, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Crying and begging for more. Such a pathetic, beautiful mess."
He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his four arms caging you in. You were completely trapped, completely at his mercy.
"I'm going to fill this pretty little ass up," he panted in your ear. "Gonna pump you so full of my cum you'll be leaking for days. And then," he paused, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate. "Then I'm going to put a baby in you. Gonna see this belly swell with my child. Everyone will know who you belong to. Who bred you. You'll be mine forever, little mouse. My pretty little toy."
The dirty, possessive words were your undoing. Your vision blurred as your second orgasm tore through you, even more intense than the first. Your body convulsed, your walls clamping down around him like a vice.
"Fuck!" he roared, his own release triggering. He buried himself deep, and you felt another hot flood of his cum, filling your ass until you were dripping with it. He marked you, claimed you, in every way possible.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, his heavy body pinning you down, his cum leaking out of both your abused holes. You were a mess. A crying, trembling, used up mess. And you had never felt more satisfied.
He finally pulled out, the loss of him leaving you feeling achingly empty. You collapsed onto the bed, unable to move, your body boneless and sore.
You felt the bed dip as he moved, and then a warm, wet cloth was gently cleaning you up. The tenderness was so unexpected, so at odds with the brutal fucking you'd just received, that it made fresh tears well in your eyes.
He finished cleaning you, then tossed the cloth aside. He gathered you into his arms, pulling you against his massive chest. You were so small compared to him, your head barely reaching his pectoral muscles.
"Shh," he murmured, one of his hands stroking your hair. "It's over now."
You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears. His four eyes were soft, almost gentle. The predatory hunger was gone, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like contentment.
"You did well, pet," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Very well."
every breath was like a million nerves in your body burning. every movement, every twitch, was like a punch to the abdomen, like the air is knocked out of you
you’re completely impaled on your wife’s strap. you couldn’t even recall its measurement in inches, as every single one rubbed against your wall oh so deliciously.
but no, vi won’t move. she won’t shift her hips, she won’t even look at you. because this is your punishment.
it feels like you’re doomed for all of eternity to be your wife’s personal cockwarmer.
you reach for something, causing friction on her thick shaft under the guise that you were simply retrieving an item. you can’t help but whimper at the heavenly feeling that you craved so deeply
vi’s bandaged arms fly to your hips as she grounds you, “stop moving, I’m not stupid,” she bit
you wanted to listen to her, you really did, but all reason flies out the window when she finally glances at you, giving you the time of day
“vi..please im sorry”
back to the silent treatment
“i really am sorry, you don’t look like a slick back”
radio silence, and then a direct thrust of her hips, so deep inside of you, you could taste it
you cry out sharply, “vi..!”
your nails dug into the skin of her arms, still recovering from the abrupt activity, before she completely unsheathes herself from you, a lewd sound following
a whine tears from your throat as she removed the strap
she was going to leave you like this again, hot and frustrated. but you’ll take it, because this was your punishment
a/n- i suck at writing smut but this man is too fine for me not to try so here we are lol. seongje and reader are aged up!
pairing- geum seongje x f!reader
contents- smut, unprotected piv, dom!seongje, sub!reader, hate sex, oral (m receiving), slight degrading kink, hair pulling, seongje being a total asshole
synopsis: you are the little sister of na baek-jin and have been in a vicious cycle of hate sex for months with his number two, geum seongje. he calls you to blow off some steam.
word count- 1121
The homework in front of you sits untouched as you scroll through your phone. But as you do, a notification from a very familiar name pops up.
sj - bowling club. now.
You stare at the text for a second and sigh. Seongje was always an asshole. Ever since you met, this has happened. He’d call you after a fight, or after some business at the bowling club and fuck your brains out. Then you’d leave. No strings. Absolutely no feelings.
You hated him. He was a total asshole. The union had taken over all of the schools in your area and consumed your brother’s life. But you kept going back. You weren’t sure if it was the thrill, or just simply some deep rooted self hatred as well.
You catch yourself growing hot from rereading the text.
you - be there in 10
You throw on jeans and a random hoodie and leave. You arrive at the club, met with some union assholes crowded around one of the tables.
“Where’s Seongje?” You ask, to which the boys just stare.
“Over here.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine. You turn around, met with Seongje leaning against the door frame of a hallway. He gives that knowing smile. That smile you hated so much.
You walk over. Seongje turns and makes his way down the hallway, and you follow. He stops right before an office, at the opposite end of the club to your brother’s office.
“Did you miss me?” He teases, shutting the door behind you and locking it. He approaches, hands finding your waist from the back. He rubs himself along your backside and reaches forward.
“Fuck off.” You say, but don’t move. His hands move down, reaching between your thighs and lightly passing over your now throbbing clit.
“Yeah, yeah. But you keep coming back. And you’re soaked for me.” He lets out a low laugh, turning you around to face him. “Fucking brat.” He whispers into your neck.
His lips crash into yours in pure lust. Aggressive, but not messy. He picks you up and walks over to a couch in the corner of the room, settling with you on his lap. His hands grip your ass, nails digging in to the skin.
His tongue slips into your mouth as his hands pull you back and forth on his aching cock, only thin fabric separating you.
Reluctantly, you let out a moan, the noise dying as his tongue goes further down your throat.
“Desperate little slut, huh?” Seongje pulls away from the kiss, mouth settling on your neck. He litters bite marks along your skin, moving down to your collarbone as well.
“On your knees.” He eventually pulls away, and you comply. You drop down to the floor, hands instinctively reaching up to his thighs. You trail upward, stopping at the outline of his cock and begin palming in through his pants. Seongje throws his head back, a low groan escaping his throat.
“Get on with it.” He commands.
“Shut up, for once.” But you do as he says. You undo his zipper and free him, taking his cock in your hand. You pump up and down, slow starting. He watches you, that smug smile appearing again.
“Such a good little slut for me.” His hand finds your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you back to meet his eyes. You do, before moving your head back down and taking him in your mouth, the taste of precum meeting your tongue.
You lick him from base to tip, causing him to shudder. You swirl your tongue on his tip, hands gripping his upper thighs.
“Don’t tease me.” He says, still gripping your hair tightly. Despite his demanding tone, you feel the ache between your thighs grow.
You take him in your mouth fully, tongue grazing his tip as you go up and down. His breathing quickens, jagged moans escaping his mouth.
Eventually, he lets go of your hair, resting a hand on your head now as you bob up and down on his cock. You slow down out of tiredness, and he lets out that condescending laugh.
“What? Wanna get this moving or something?” He stands now, looking down at you and smiling. Reluctantly, you nod. That stupid, smug look did something to you.
“Up,” he instructs. You stand, and immediately are grabbed at the waist, “everything off.”
You drop your jeans, hoodie and t shirt discarded on the ground as well. He follows, pants dropping all the way now. He approaches behind you, cock rubbing precum over your ass.
“Bend over.” Seongje places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you down over the couch. Your hands come to grip the back of it, full exposed.
His fingers travel along your body, down your waist, hips, ass, then dancing near your entrance.
“So wet,” he runs a finger along your folds, bringing it to his mouth to taste, “ready for me?”
You nod, way too eagerly. He scoffs.
“Dripping cunt and desperate? Fucking brat,” Seongje rubs his tip along your soaked clit, teasing. His other hand moves from your neck to grip your hair again, pulling it back hard.
Without warning, he thrusts into you, causing you to let out a loud, ragged moan.
“Shut the fuck up.” His voice is low and breathy. He pulls your hair hard again as he speaks.
He thrusts in and out, cock throbbing against your walls. His hand lets go of your hair, and moves to slap you hard on the ass. You let out a low pitched noise, jaw clenching.
“Stupid slut.” He mutters, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper into your aching cunt as the seconds go on.
“Fuck,” you murmur, voice just above a whisper. He slaps your ass again, the sting lingering for a second.
His nails dig into your hips as his breathing quickens. You throw your head back in ecstasy, pure pleasure pumping through your veins like heroin.
“You like that? Hmm?” He asks, quickening his pace. You nod, ensuring that he won’t stop. He grabs your hair again, pull your head up swiftly.
“Use your fucking words, brat.”
“Keep fucking going- please-“ you manage, voice breaking. He lets go, hands returning to grip your ass. His breathing quickens, thrusting faster and faster until he stills inside you.
Your own orgasm overtakes you, clit throbbing as he spills hot white inside of you.
“Good girl.” He says, pulling out and grabbing his clothes. You follow, but are still breathing heavy when he leans in and kisses your neck.
“This is the last time, Seongje.”
He doesn’t respond, because both of you know it is definitely not the last time.
warnings: exes to lovers, alcohol, angst, jealousy, fingering, degradation, begging
The breakup didn’t end harshly, but it wouldn’t be considered easy nor rational. Megan wanted more, Lara got scared and found a man who was as simple as a rat—even looking like one. Megan’s heart thudded anxiously against her chest ever since the day she introduced Orlando to the group.
Now, the girls never knew of Lara and Megan in the first place on account of the Indian girl’s fear. And Megan being Megan, she respected that, leaving their relationship an unexplained mystery for almost a year.
Now here she was watching her ex—whom she still loved—giggle in the lap of a guy who resembled a mid-thirty year old. Megan grunted, flushing the alcoholic beverage in her hand down her throat, coughing slightly at the burning taste.
Manon noticed first. She sat beside her, offering another drink. “Meg, what’s up? You’ve been staring at Lara like she personally offended you with her face.”
Megan didn’t laugh, smile, or even react. She shrugged, a dead look in her eyes. “It’s nothing. I need the bathroom.” She pushed the drink away, leaving without another word able to be spoken. Megan’s hands shook, cradling her own face as she locked herself in the bathroom.
Rage filled her body, but sadness emptied her heart. Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill any second. Then a stall door opened and out came Lara wearing that leopard printed dress, class nails on, and a Gucci purse to accessorize.
Lara shook her head. “Hey.” She went to wash her hands.
Megan kept her mouth shut, looking at her reflection in the mirrors. Her hands stabilized herself against the marble counter, eyes squeezing shut to count her breathing and remain calm.
Then a hand met her bicep. “You okay?” Lara asked, hesitancy in her voice, but with a hint of worry.
“What do you think?” Megan snapped, unable to deny the tears steaming down her face now. “How do you think I am seeing you and him all over each other in the same way we were? Huh? He gets it all—the publicity, our friends’ approval. Why couldn’t it be me?!” She screamed, falling to her knees in an upsetting rage.
Lara felt the guilt eating her alive. “Meg- I don’t know what to say…”
Seconds of silence passed. Then Megan stood, facing the mirror and looking at Lara directly through it. “Then don’t say shit. Prove it.”
“How?” She asked, the question ending in a gasp as she was thrown up on the counter by Megan’s strong arms, legs spread wide open, dress riding up already.
“With your fucking body.” Megan spat on her fingers, using her free hand to rip Lara’s panties off and tuck them in the pocket of her pants that she wore. “I waited so fucking long for this, why would you make me suffer so much? Hm? ‘Cause you’re a needy whore desperate for attention? Is that it? You just missed my fingers?”
Megan slammed three fingers deep inside Lara’s pussy, feeling the flutter of her tightening walls already squeezing down on her digits. Lara screamed out—grabbing anything to hold onto, a loud moan ripping from her throat. “F-fuck! M-Megan!”
“That’s right, bitch, scream my name. Not his, mine. If only he knew how worked up you get from me and I only.” Megan growled in her ear, tangling her fingers in Lara’s hair, tugging every now and then like a makeshift leash. Lara groaned, wincing at the pain and pleasure combined.
Megan’s thrusts were ruthless, her movements along the rest of her body not any softer. Lara felt that guilt still eating her up—she didn’t realize how much Megan had been hurting from the breakup, and to be fairly honest, she didn’t allow herself the chance to heal from something that felt so special. All this anger felt built up, finally being let out in an aggressive way.
Lara’s body withered beneath Megan on the counter, thighs shaking as her orgasm neared. “Meg! Fuck, I’m close, baby, please! Please let me cum!”
“Fucking whore, begging for my mercy.” Megan curled her fingers deep, eliciting another scream from the darker haired girl. “You’re lucky I wanna feel it. Let go, let me feel it dripping all over my fingers.”
On command, Lara let out a gushing wave of wetness, creating a squirting sound effect that echoed through the riveting bathroom walls. Megan kept up her ruthless pace until she inevitable slowed down, pulling out. Silence filled the air, and the heavy pants coming from Lara as she tried to clear her foggy mind.
Megan licked her fingers clean, washing up at the sink and slipping her glasses back on. She went to leave but Lara caught her wrist in time. “My place?”
The Chinese girl nodded once. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
As the door opened, Lara called out one last time, “I’ll end it with him, for you.”
Megan let a ghost of a smile grace her lips. She chuckled in a quiet, victorious way. “I figured you would, babydoll.”
CW: captivity, male whumpee, female whumper, asthmatic whumpee, begging, forced intoxication, noncon drugging, restraints, threat of burns, implied past abuse (belt beatings), intimate whumper, degradation, crying
Masterpost
–
Otto never thought he would be somewhere like this; surrounded by tons of extravagant luxuries, nightgowns of silk and lace adorning his skin. A life where things like comfort and security were a given and not something you had to fight for. A life like this was always so far out of his eye line it wasn't even a speck on the horizon.
But if he knew the cost before the check was signed, if he had glimpsed the ink that would inevitably seal his fate, he would have happily continued living the ordinary, boring life no one gave a second glace at. He would have gladly played the unimportant side character, a blimp in the background, not once looking back at his decision if he knew what laid within the director’s cut.
Now here he sat: kneeling on the hard floor, bruised knees turning a deep shade of purple from being forced to crawl like a scorned dog. The violent flames of a fire baked his flushed face and stole the air from his already wheezing lungs. They constricted in his chest like an iron vise, hardly able to take in enough air to keep him from crashing to the ground, each breath keeping him on the edge suffocation as the tang of blood became a stain on his tongue. He was on the brink of death with each inhale; fighting for his life on every exhale while his owner constricted the leash on his existence.
His head floated miles above his body, his conciseness just a mere toy for his captor to squeeze and bend at her wish. She was more than satisfied in making him guess whether he’d live or die each day.
Silvanae sat propped in a plush chair, on knee slung over the other, resting on her self appointed pedestal she saw no one else was worthy of. Hovering like a sovereign empress carrying the weight of a heavy crown, wine swirling around in her glass. From a tilt, it almost resembled blood.
A delicately manicured finger hooked itself under Otto’s chin, tilting his teary gaze up to stare into the monarch’s eyes. She smiled as sharply as a wolf down at it’s prey while she brought her glass to his lips. Otto didn't have a chance to reaction let alone resister what was happening before he was drowning in the sting of alcohol, it rolled down his face, mixing with his tears as it soaked his nightgown. He gagged, doubling over to try to stop the burning liquid from stealing what little air he had.
“Just like you to waste a perfectly good wine,” she sneered down at him, letting him go to hack up the last of the drink, accent thick with malice, “No matter, I have plenty more for us to enjoy.”
“Please I—can't breathe I-….please stop–” his pleas were cut short as an inhaler parted his lips. The subtle disperse of fumes entered his airway. A hand clamped down over his nose and mouth until he was forced to inhale the tainted air. Otto’s desperate squirming didn't matter—his struggles slowed under her grasp, head lazing against the hand on the nape of his neck to keep him from escaping.
“Ah ah ah,” she tsked, “Can't have you blacking out on me again.” She hushed him as the smoke settled in his lungs. It was drugged—something that made him twitchy and weak—the perfect concoction to keep him awake yet pliant, bound to the hearth of the fireplace and too feeble to wiggle out of the restraints far too close to the flames.
He wheezed out any foolish hope of escape he had and let the tears fall for the other’s entertainment. If he was lucky maybe he wouldn't remember this in the morning. The bite of the ropes around his wrist would just be another cut he couldn't recall getting. He missed when those used to be tiny scratches, barely noticeable, and not swollen lashes in the shape of belt buckles.
Laughter erupted from above him, “Do you ever not cry? Honestly, you're lucky you're pretty or you would just be pathetic.”
She let go of his face to pour another glass, stopping before it reached her lips. Her eyes glinted dangerously in the fire’s light as she smiled. To Otto, that smile usually meant pain. Deep dread pooled in his gut before she even spoke, inky black tentacles leached off his nerves as she leaned forward, “Why don't we see how many tears this will wring out of you.”
Otto could only beg desperately as Sil’s glass of wine was tipped onto the length of rope.
CW: f!reader, sexual content, light degradation, dubious consent, hate sex, rough sex, swearing, implied size kink, light breath play
18+ minors DNI
You were recently hired for a job, some sort of mission.
The kind that came wrapped in vague instructions, sealed with too much money and not enough answers. You were used to the shady ones by now.
You don’t expect anyone else to be in the room when you arrive. The job was supposed to be solo—clean, easy, your target, your reward.
You’re led into the lounge and your eyes immediately narrow.
you see him
Leaning against the cracked wall, arms crossed, a bored expression on his stupid face like he’s been waiting for hours.
“Toji,” you mutter like a curse.
His eyes slide lazily over to you. “Ah it's you." He smirks "Figures they’d send you too, they must be reallydesperate.” He gives you a pout "Did they let you in the front door, or did you sneak through the vents?"
You grit your teeth and crack a fake smile, "What the hell are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you, sweetheart. Getting paid.” he chuckles
Your contact—a jittery little sorcerer with WAY too many rings and too few teeth—laughs nervously between you.
“Now, now. Don’t be like that. You’re both good at what you do. The client wants the job done right, and that means together." He gives a stern look to both of you.
The silence that follows is thick and toxic.
Toji tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. “Tch. Working with a sorcerer. Guess even I have to slum it sometimes.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve talking down to me with a bounty the size of yours,” you snap.
He grins “Touché.”
You want to kiss punch him, but you settle for folding your arms and turning to the contact. “Who’s the target?” You give a bored stare
The man swallows. “High-level cursed spirit disguised as a human. Slippery one. Last seen near the western wards, blending in with civilians. Client wants it done quiet. No explosions, no bodies in the street.”
Toji whistles low. “Sounds boring, this is light work." He gives a cocky grin
You ignore him. “When do we start?”
“Now.”
You both turn at once, speaking over each other
“Don’t get in my way.” You scoff
“Try to keep up.” He laughs
The tension between you sparks.
And just like that, you're stuck with him.
The last man you’d ever choose to work with—dangerous, cocky, impossible.
The worst part?
You always struggle keep up.
And he’s going to love every second of it.
The car ride is unbearable.
Toji’s stretched out in the passenger seat like he owns it, one arm slung behind the headrest, legs spread like a pig.
You’d volunteered to drive just to keep your hands busy. Otherwise, one might end up around his neck, not sure in which way.
He hasn’t stopped talking since you pulled out of the lot.
“You know,” he says, plucking a toothpick from his pocket and sliding it between his teeth, “last time I worked with someone like you, they tapped out halfway through. Started crying about 'ethical dilemmas' or some shit.”
You don’t even glance over. “And yet here you are, still running your mouth. That’s impressive, considering how many people want to break your jaw.”
He laughs, “Damn. Forgot how fun you were.”
Ignoring him, you press harder on the gas.
The city lights blur past, glowing neon smeared across the windshield. You’re headed toward the western ward—half-empty, run-down, crawling with spirits too smart to be seen. "The perfect place for this bitch to hide."
Toji finally sits up a little straighter. “You nervous?” he asks, a little too casual. “You always talk this much when you’re scared?”
There it is.
You shoot him a side-eye. “I don’t need to be nervous. I’m not the one with a death wish.”
He grins. “Could’ve fooled me."
You slam the brakes, hard.
Toji lurches forward with a grunt, catching himself against the dash as the car jerks to a stop in front of a crumbling alleyway lit by a flickering streetlamp. "What the fuck asshole."
You glare at him. “We’re here. Get out.” You slam the car door behind you, boots hitting cracked pavement, slick with rain.
He chuckles under his breath, swinging the door open.
Somewhere in this shitty alley, you can feel the target watching. Waiting.
Toji rolls his shoulders, unbothered. “Let's go."
You step out beside him, ignoring the heat prickling under your skin that comes every time you’re close to him.
The cursed energy in the air pulses faintly, almost hidden—this guy isn't a joke. You scan the street. The sky is dark. Neon signs flicker against the pavement.
“Smell that?” he mutters.
You nod. “Cursed bile and ego. Smells like you.”
He huffs a laugh but doesn’t take the bait.
The cursed spirit makes its move. You both feel it—a spike of cursed energy to the left. You pivot just in time to catch a blur darting down the alleyway, limbs distorting as it moves, flesh rippling with unstable energy.
It looks vaguely human—tall, hunched, with too many joints and a face stretched in a permanent grin.
"Creepy" you laugh, already beginning to chase it
Toji’s right beside you—the two of you run through the alley.
The spirit glances back—and laughs.
It turns the corner. You both follow.
Only to get blasted by a sudden wall of mist. You fall onto your back.
Toji’s there in an instant, cleaving through the cursed appendage with a brutal swing. Blood—if you can even call it that—splashes across the wall in black streaks.
The spirit shrieks and darts. You lunge for it but it slips right through a crack in the alley wall, body melting into mist.
Gone.
"I had it." you pant, catching your breath
Toji curses, wiping blood off his blade with the edge of his shirt. The rain starts to fall harder.
You stagger back a step, chest heaving. Water soaks your hair, your clothes, your mood.
Toji’s already shaking out his hair, water sliding off him.
“This is bullshit,” you mutter, swiping rain from your eyes.
Toji snorts. “You’re the one who let it slip through your fingers.”
You whirl on him. “I was chasing it while you were busy swinging like a drunk .”
He raises a brow, calm as ever. “Still breathing, aren’t you?”
You grit your teeth. “Barely.”
A crack of thunder rolls overhead. Water’s pooling in your boots, your jacket’s clinging to your spine, and the nearest shelter is a dingy little hotel across the street with a flickering red VACANCY sign
No way, that hotel's got "I totally won't be murdered here" written all over it.
“Great,” you grumble. “Five-star accommodations.”
Toji follows your gaze, already heading across the street. “What, you scared of some bedbugs?”
You follow him “ The only thing im scared of is sharing a room with you” you roll your eyes.
He doesn’t slow down. “Better get used to disappointment.”
The lobby’s dead. Peeling wallpaper, a desk that’s seen better days, and a clerk who looks up from his manga just long enough to glance at the two of you and grunt.
“One room left,” the clerk says without looking up. “Queen bed.”
You exhale sharply through your nose, already done. "Are you sure there aren't any better rooms?"
He flips the page of his manga, chews his gum louder. “Unless one of you wants to sleep in the alley with the rats. They usually don’t bite.”
Toji steps up, unfazed. “We’ll take it.”
You shoot him a look.
The clerk finally looks up, eyes flicking between the two of you like he’s seen this setup before. “Sure.” He slides the key across the counter with two fingers and a sarcastic grin. “Please do not to break the headboard. It comes out of my paycheck.”
You open your mouth to argue "Excuse me?"
“Thanks” Toji cuts in, slapping cash down on the desk.
You glare at him.
He gives you that annoying look, “What? You want me to sleep in the hallway?”
“I want you to sleep outside.” You deadpan. You snatch the key from his hand with a scowl. “If you snore, I’ll smother you in your sleep.”
He leans in, close enough you feel his breath. “You’ll have to get in bed with me first.”
You shove the door open and stomp inside. The room smells like mildew and depression. There’s a cracked TV, one sad lamp, and a queen-size bed with sheets that are definitely older than both of you and your grandparents.
Toji closes the door behind you with a soft click.
“Home sweet home,” he says.
You’re already peeling off your jacket, still fuming.
You turn to him. “You’re an idiot. That thing got away because you can’t follow orders, we are supposed to work together."
He raises an eyebrow, stripping off his blood-soaked shirt and wringing it out in the sink. “I don’t follow anyones orders.”
“That much is obvious,” you roll your eyes.
He glances over his shoulder, still grinning. “Didn’t hear you complaining when I saved your ass.”
“I don't need your saving.”
He steps closer, wet hair dripping down his neck, muscles tense under the skin. “Keep talking, princess. You’re cute when you’re angry.” He grins
You scoff, but it comes out shaky.
There’s a pause. It hums, sharp and heavy. The silence stretching between you, the only sound is the constant patter of rain against the window.
You're already pissed about the mission. About how it slipped through your fingers. About the fact that Toji’s standing there, looking way too calm for your liking, you’re about ready to twist his neck.
You slam your soaked jacket on the back of the chair with a grunt.
Toji’s chuckle is low, rough, "What is it sweetheart? Get it off your chest."
“I had it—I, had it, until you barged in and—”
“Hold on- don't flatter yourself,” he cuts you off, stepping into your space, a lazy smile on his face. “It was already gone by the time you decided to "chase" it.”
You push back, your ego too big. “Whatever. You’re a waste of time.”
Toji's grin doesn't fade. He steps even closer, the space between you shrinking until you're breathing the same air.
“You sure about that, baby?” His voice condescending. “From where I’m standing, you look pretty desperate to have me around. Don’t want to admit it, though, hm?”
You bite down on your lip to hold back any retort.
He gets closer, leaning down to murmur in your ear. "You don’t need to say anything, brat,” he purrs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can see it all over your face."
You can feel the rush of heat flood your chest. Your body betrays you as you swallow, clenching your jaw. You’re slapping that grin off his face before you can think.
You're expecting him to hit you, but his reaction is the opposite when he grabs your face and his lips brush against your neck. He looks into your eyes.
Before you know it, his lips are on yours.
It’s far from neat—teeth clashing, his hands grabbing you, pulling you closer. The taste of him is like black licorice, cigarettes and wood.
You push him back, but he's already shoving you toward the bed, the weight of his body following, keeping you pinned beneath him.
“You were talkin’ all that shit, princess, where'd the attitude go?" His voice is gravelly, breathless.
You glare at him, the fire in your belly impossible to ignore. You hate him—but the way he puts you in your place makes you ache.
His hands are everywhere—yanking your shirt over your head—pulling your shorts down, it’s all too fast, too sudden, you’re already burning up, your body responding before you can even think.
"Damn.." he mutters, voice low, rough. His hand drags down your waist, fingers firm, unrelenting. "So sexy" Then lower. He doesn’t ease in—slipping his hand inside your panties and feeling your slick cunt.
“You’re so wet baby,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess between your thighs. “You like this, don’t you? Fuckin’ little slut.”
He presses to your pussy, slow, rough and mean
“This what you’ve been hiding?” he hisses against your cheek. “All that mouth just cover for how desperate you are for me hm?"
His thumb circles your clit, relentless. “Dripping like this… fuckin’ pathetic.”
You gasp, breath hitching. Your hands claw at his shirt, hips twitching forward. "S-shhut up'"
He grabs your chin, forces your head up. His grip is strong, fingers pressing in the right places, good enough to sting. He stares down at you, eyes dark.
"O-oh fuck…" you moan out, voice thin, trembling.
You whine as he works you open, quick and rough, his touch sending shocks of heat through you. He’s thorough, deep—fingers curling inside, pushing you closer to the edge. You can't catch your breath.
His eyes lock onto yours as he’s pushing himself between your legs, his lips capturing yours in a wet kiss.
“Fuck your gorgeous,” he growls against your mouth, one hand holding you down while the other works to tear away the last of your clothing. “You wanna take it for me babygirl? Doing so so good for me."
you’re already on fire, every inch of you aching for him.
He pulls back just long enough to look you in the eyes, that same cocky smirk playing on his lips as he positions himself over you. Cock hard against your entrance.
“You ready for this sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.
You barely nod
He grins—slow, crooked, a little unhinged. “Yeah?” he breathes, watching your face twist. "Ima need a little more than that babe."
“Please,” you whisper, breath catching. “I need it!" You cry out
He's thrusting inside, hard, rough, making you gasp, your back arching off the bed as he fills you completely.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “I knew you’d be a fast learner.”
You can barely catch your breath as he sets a punishing pace, each thrust leaving you wanting more. His hands grip your hips, controlling the rhythm, his lips trail over your neck, biting, sucking, marking you up.
“Feel that?” he growls, biting down on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your stomach.
“You’re taking me s' good, sweetheart. Fuckin' perfect.”
You gasp, legs tightening around his waist, but he just laughs—low and cruel—and grabs your thighs, spreading them wider.
He pulls out just to slap your pussy, making you jolt with a ragged cry.
“Oh yeah, you like that? Your pretty little cunt’s beggin’ now.” He slides back in, slow enough to make you feel every inch.
You try to respond, but the only sound that comes out is a choked moan, hands fisting the sheets.
“Can’t even talk anymore, hm?” he taunts, voice drenched with satisfaction. “Already ruined you.”
He flips you over—hands strong, sure, greedy.
You barely have time to gasp before your chest is pressed into the mattress and he’s kneeling behind you, one hand spreading your ass, the other guiding his cock back to your dripping cunt.
His hand sneaks between you again, thumb rubbing harsh circles over your clit.
You can feel him stretch you open all over again, slow just to watch you struggle to take it.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Take it. Knew this pussy could handle it.”
You grip the sheets, face smashing into the pillow, back arching as he fucks you, deep and brutal. You choke out a moan and he grins, cock twitching inside you.
“Cmon baby, I wanna feel you lose it. Cream all over my dick.” His voice goes rougher. “Your tight grip makes me fuckin’ crazy.”
You do—helpless against the pace, against the weight of his body, against the way he uses you but won’t let you fall apart alone.
Your walls start pulsing, you cry out and shake under him, that’s when he loses it too—burying himself deep and groaning.
You barely register the weight of him easing off you until the bed dips beside your shoulder. His palm runs down your spine, slow, grounding. He doesn’t say anything—not at first—but his touch is there, heavy and steady, dragging you back to your body like he owns every inch of it.
“Didn’t break you, did I?” he mutters, voice rough with leftover heat and just a little smug.
You shoot him a half-lidded glare over your shoulder, too wrecked to hold it.
He huffs—amused—and rolls you onto your back, pulling you in. Your body melts into his chest without thinking, even as his fingers trail over your thigh, ghosting where you’re still sore and slick.
“Relax.” His voice is quieter now. Still deep. Still heavy. “You took it so good." You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek.
His hand doesn’t stop moving—up your hip, across your waist. “You hungry?” he asks suddenly. “Thirsty?”
You blink. “I’m… fine.”
He grunts. Reaches for something off the nightstand—a water bottle, maybe—and presses it to your lips. You drink without arguing, throat dry as hell.
When he sets it aside, he leans in again. Nose against your temple. Lips brushing your hair.
“You’re mine now,” he says, softer this time. “Don’t care what you say.
You don’t answer. You don’t have to.
And when he pulls the blanket over you, tucks your body against his, sleep finds you both, —tangled together. Wrapped in something that feels an awful lot like peace.
OH MY GOSSSSHHHH guys i was giggling while making this (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
lmk if you guys want more ^-^
holy 3k words🤨😭
