#gn reader smut

[xynoford]

Fucking Gi hun when he still was married. In their house, in their bedroom and their space making him arch his back and let out pretty moans that in no way his wife can recreate. Making their bed creak like it never had before. And all of a sudden his honey sweet moans and pleas are interrupted by the sound of keys jingling and the door opening. His eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hand. You heard his wife call for him but no answer. "Guess they decided to go out" she said to herself. The walls were pretty thin. You smirked and started moving your hips once again, not hard enough to make sound but effective enough to get him to silently beg you to stop. One hand holding his waist, your free hand went to his cock and started stroking him. You could hear his wife tidying up the place in the other room. 'please-" he begged you, taking his hand off his mouth momentarily, the single word he said being interrupted by a moan. You were sure his wife couldn't hear it. Nonetheless you leaned into his ear, "you are so cute trying to muffle your moans darling" you said. "But not well enough. What if your wife hears you? What if she notices that you are being fucked by your 'best friend"? What then?" Your words him squirm in your grasp. You started pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck. You know he's sensitive there. This made his hand go from his mouth to your back, desperately trying to ground himself. He came with a loud moan, a moan the whole block let alone his wife could most definitely hear. And before he could realize his mistake you heard the footsteps of the only other person in the apartment getting closer to their bedroom.

[ranspuppy]

Eat What? Off Where?!

Ft. A. Tamaki, S. Aizawa, T. Mirio, and T. Keigo

Warnings: GN reader, oral (all), praise (Hawks), nothing in this is serious lmao, all characters are 18+... I think that’s all the warnings, for now. This also might suck a lil.. I’m a bit rusty

WC: 860

Amajiki Tamaki

It was a quiet day in the Tamaki house hold. Well, quiet until Y/n plopped down beside Amajiki with a wide grin on their face. Amajiki knew that nothing good came from that look. Still as reserved as ever, looked down at y/n. “Yes, sweetheart?” he asked cautiously.

“Can I lick peanut butter off your cock?” Y/n asked with a smug grin, knowing that he wouldn’t shoot down their question. He looked at y/n with a slightly surprised look before ultimately nodding his head. And, that folks is how y/n ended up with a jar of peanut butter beside them while kneeling between Amajiki’s legs as he sat manspread on the couch.

“Nngghh, y/n-” Amajiki nearly choked on his own spit as y/n gave a particularly harsh suck, sending shocks of pleasure through his body. His thighs shaking as his orgasm hit him like a truck. Y/n pulled off of him with a ‘pop’ and smirked, satisfied with the way he groaned and rolled his head to the side…

Shota Aizawa

“No.” Aizawa shot y/n’s request down without a second thought. Looking at them with his irritated red eyes. “Why would you- don’t answer that.” He sighed, knowing nothing good would come out of that question. “B-but, Shota..” y/n frowned and laid their head on his shoulder, giving him the best puppy dog eyes they could muster.

“Fu-fuck, y/n… I'm close.” Shota grunted with his head thrown back, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. His eyes were squeezed shut as y/n tongue swirled around the head of his cock. Licking off the remnants of the sticky peanut butter. y/n looked up at him through their eyelashes. For someone so against the idea, he damn sure seemed to be enjoying himself.

As he came with a grunt of y/n’s name, Aizawa pushed y/n’s head down. Making them engulf his cock, their nose hitting his pubic bone, his hair tickling their nose and top lip. His cum shot down their throat, they had no choice but to swallow. The taste of his bitter sweet cum and the peanut butter sliding down their throat.

“I may let you do that more often…” Shota peeked out, y/n’s face lit up. “I said I might!” oh, well… it wasn’t a no.

Togata Mirio

“Hell yeah, let’s do it!” Mirio was ecstatic at the idea of you licking the sticky peanut butter off his dick. So much so that he pulled you to the kitchen and grabbed the jar himself. He popped the lid open and smeared some of the thick butter onto his length. You chuckled, ‘he was more excited about this than you were’ you started to think.

You soon found yourself on your knees. The hard, cold tile pressing against your legs as your warm mouth engulfed his cock. You bobbed your head with a steady pace. His hand gripping your hair as moans and groans fell from his soft, pink lips. Your tongue swirled around him as you took him deeper.

“Just like that…yeah, I’m finna cum- fuck!” Mirio came with a grunt and tug of your hair. His blue eyes stared down at you as he lifted you to your feet with a smirk. He picked you up and sat you on the counter, grabbing the jar of peanut butter once more. “Your turn now…”

Takami Keigo

“You want to wha- you know what? Let's try it.” Keigo said with a small smirk adorning his face. If his s/o wanted to try something in bed, he wouldn’t object. Especially not when it comes to you having your soft, plump lips wrapped around his pretty cock. But, what you weren’t prepared for…is for him to have you in a 69 position. Praises spilled from his mouth as he pulled away from your middle. Peanut butter on his lips, he licked your juices and the peanut butter off his lips as he came off of you with a pop.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” he moaned, his cock still had spots of peanut butter on it. Your tongue swirled around him, small whimpers falling from your lips as you continued to suck him off. His cock twitched and his hips stuttered as he came down your throat with the prettiest moan. You swallowed and were about to move when he bit the inside of your thigh. “Where do you think you’re going, little bird.”

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ ©ranspuppy do NOT Repost, Copy, or Translate ANY of my works on ANY platform.

[zxblackdog]

Camping!

Childhood best friend oc x bottom reader. No gender specified for reader. "You guys" is used gender neutrally.

a little angsty in this one, happy ending. some fluff. i talk too much. unrequited love from reader's pov. he went through a breakup. then had an awakening. you fell first but he fell harder. Subtop character. you fuck in the wilderness. blowjobs, handjobs, overstimulation, fingering. cum as lube. you ride him. pathetic tops <3 he's in it for the ride dw. last half is a little rushed, mb. no proofread. 8410 words

---

You've known your best friend now for.. how many years? Too many.

You met each other when his family moved right next to yours when you were just children and were inseparable all throughout school. Knowing each other's likes and dislikes were a given. Knowing each other's everything was pretty much a given. He can't stand the taste of carrots, absolutely adores any sort of wildlife (even if they don't like him), and how he have always been a little hesitant going into things alone. Personality-wise, he never really changed--always bubbly, positive, energetic. Attached to you. Not that you minded.

In fact, you liked it. You liked him, for a while now. Love, even. You didn't know when you fell, but you do know that you fell hard. It was probably halfway through high school when you first realized you get jealous when he gets a little too close to his other friends. Of course--he's allowed to have friends and it's not like he's ignoring you. You two are still inseparable. But you're still jealous. You wanted his attention on you.

This feeling of jealousy gets worse when he brings up his crushes. You wanted to be a good friend. You wanted to see him happy. Every time he comes to you for advice or help, you gave it to him. How to ask someone out, what to wear for dates--but you wanted it to be you. You wanted to be with him, but it never seemed like he notices, and you try to not let it show.

Eventually, you learned to live with it. You have been trying to suppress your feelings. Maybe, even trying to move on. But you couldn't bring yourself to.

These feelings lived you until now--halfway through college. But now there's a new problem. Recently, it feels like he's being...avoidant? You hate to think this way, but it does seem like he's trying to avoid you. He's still bright and chatty when you guys do bump into each other, but whenever you try to make plans, he always seemed to be busy. He's also been making fewer plans to go out together. Usually you guys take turns thinking of something to do.

You didn't really know what incited this behavior--as far as you know, you were perfectly normal. Same as you've ever been. You didn't do anything or say anything that might've made him avoidant. Or at least you didn't think so.

The only thing you can think of is his breakup a few months ago. He and his ex were together for close to half a year before they decided that the relationship just wasn't working. While the mutual breakup itself wasn't messy and the other party was apologetic about it, it did hurt him. And whenever he is hurt like this, he goes to you.

So that's what he did. Late one night, he knocked on your door, on the verge of tears. Thankfully, your roommate was out for the weekend, so no one was disturbed by the arrival of a guest at 2 AM. You were shocked to see him--it is 2 AM after all--and he's the type of call or text before he shows up.

The moment you opened the door, he pounced. He almost knocked you over with the force of his hug, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your shoulder, sobbing. You froze for a bit before slowly closing the door and just letting him cry. You held him there for who knows how long, his mop of unruly dark curls tickling you.

Eventually you managed to shuffle him to the couch with him still latched onto you. You sat the two of you down and he pretty much laid himself on top of you and stayed there, unmoving. You were honestly trying not to sneeze for a good while because of his hair in your face.

Now, you're facing a dilemma. On one hand, you want to be there for your best friend and comfort him. On the other, the one person you've been pining for was essentially cuddling you on the couch. You hated that you felt this way--he was upset. You shouldn't be feeling this way when he's this vulnerable. He's here because he trusts you.

Well. He fell asleep eventually. You didn't dare move. Your whole body when numb by the time morning came. You didn't sleep too well that night.

When he woke up, he was incredibly apologetic. He looked embarrassed--big, brown eyes swollen from all that crying the night before, voice croaky, hair more of a mess. He probably got drool all over you but you changed out of those clothes soon enough. You also gave him clothes to change into. Your clothes. You tried not to think too much about it.

You did as most as you could to make him feel better that weekend. He stayed over for a few, crashing on your couch. For the first day, he was clingy, but he barely replenished any of his usual energy. He looked like a dejected puppy following you around silently. You took care of him though, making food for the both of you and ordered takeout when you didn't feel like cooking. He was a lot quieter that day as well. That night, you sat together on the couch and just had something on for background noise while he spilled his feelings about the breakup to you. You just listened.

He understood why his ex felt like things weren't working--he was fearing it too, but he was just in denial. But he blames himself. He knew he shouldn't, and that it was normal for personalities to clash one you get to know each other, but he still felt awful. He did bring up another thing though.

"It felt like they thought that I- you- ugh. I don't know."

He stopped himself short, shaking his head and muttering something they said--something about being clingy, about feelings, about hiding--and became apprehensive to pick that topic up again. He claimed he didn't understand, and the two of you just left it at that. No need for you to push further. He'll tell you when he feels like he's ready.

The rest of the night you tried to take his mind off of this by playing. Messing around. Video games, card games, board games--whoever loses at the end of the night has to treat the other to food next week. Eventually, you tired yourselves out after a pillow fight and promptly fell asleep. Neither of you remembered who won.

He spent the next few days getting his energy back, slowly but surely becoming himself again. You noticed that with you, he seemed to flip between his old self--always clinging you, joking with you, just together with you--to being...shy. A little more hesitant. More scared of overstepping boundaries. Scared of invading your personal space.

You chalked it up to the influence of his breakup, but he has never acted like this before. You've been through almost all of his previous breakups, but none of which affected him like this. You were hurt at his apprehension towards you--his hand literally flinched away when your hand got near. It hurt you, but you couldn't blame him. You never could.

But yeah. You noticed for the past few months now that he's trying to subtly (but very obviously) avoid you, and you really didn't understand why. Your mutual friends thought a fight or argument happened, but even they didn't believe such thing. They even tried asking him, but he just shook them off, claiming it was nothing, saying maybe he was just tired.

It got so noticeable that both your parents caught wind it. You blame his extroverted nature--he makes too many snitching friends.

You really didn't want to have a conversation like this with both your parents, but they were adamant. You've been friends for so long, this behavior is too concerning not to talk about, even though both of you were insisting that everything was fine. So, they called an "emergency" meeting one day. Attendance mandatory. And thank fuck college wasn't far from home, or else you would've had the time of a long ass commute to dread this.

The two of you left separately, but got home around the same time. Your parents ushered you next door to his for this impromptu meeting, but the two of you would rather bury yourselves in the dirt. Walking in, he could only give you a fleeting glance before pretending that nothing happened, looking away. Your heart ached.

Your parents sat the two of you down on one of the couches as they surrounded you, sitting on the opposite facing couch, in nearby recliners, in chairs--they are taking this way too seriously. You nervously fidgeted with your sleeve, and you noticed that he also couldn't sit still, his leg bouncing. The last time your two families sat you guys down like this was when they caught you two egging a teacher's house. To be fair, that teacher sucked ass and everyone knew it.

"Now, children-" his mother started. You noticed him tense. This really does feel way too serious.

"I have heard through the grapevine that the two of you haven't been getting along."

"No, it's nothing like that-"

"Ah-ah-ah. Don't even start with that--I could see it from the way you two walked in the door! No eye contact. How insane is that?"

The two of you tried to defend yourselves from both your parents' interrogation but to no avail. None of them are allowing the two of you breathing room or chances to explain things. You buried your head in your hands. You didn't know what to think, but you may have felt his eyes on you. Looking over at him though, he was sprawled out on the other side of the couch, desperately avoiding your eyes, while he's still trying--in vain--to explain that nothing happened and that the parents are being nosy. At this point, you won't be surprised if they think one of you murdered someone and the other found out. It wasn't that serious, but of course, they won't listen.

The "meeting" eventually ended up as a big dinner, since you two came home anyway. Your fathers cooked, chatting to themselves, while your mothers sat you two down next to each other at the table. Just like when you guys were kids. They kept trying to "fix" things between you, have you two talk it out, explain your feelings (which you would rather die), but all was in vain. At first this "meeting" seemed quite charming. It was nice to know that your families loved you two so much they cared enough to try to handle any disagreements, but having it go on for this long is draining. He's always been an endless ocean of energy, but now seemed out of it as well.

"Well, how 'bout this--since you two are both adults and there's no need for us to meddle," your father said as he brought plates over. You didn't even try to guess what he's trying to propose. His father joined with the rest of the plates.

"-we send you two on a camping trip! I remember you two always rambling about wanting to live out there together eventually, so why not spend spring break in the woods? I know a friend who owns a nice piece of land. I can ask her if you kids can spend the break there."

"Oh, that's not necessary-"

"Oh how wonderful!! That such a nice idea! Then you two can have a heart-to-heart talk--we won't be there so you two can have some privacy~"

Your mother interjected you, excited and giggly at the thought that you're now a big kid and need privacy with your best friend. Almost as if she knew of your debilitating crush. You hoped she didn't. You shot her a lighthearted glare before burying your face again.

A camping trip would be nice, but with how things are now, you wouldn't even know how that'll turn out. How awkward it'll be. You have been trying to make plans and hang out with him for the past few months, but he always brushed it off, so maybe feigning to "give in" to your parents' suggestions may convince him to join in.

You looked over at him, and he looked away.

"So, any thoughts? Camping for spring break? I mean--I'm free."

He gave you a quick look before looking away again, eyes staring at his hands fiddling his fork.

"Well, I don't kn-"

"Oh of course he wants to go! C'mon, it'll be fun!"

His mother spoke for him, ruffling his hair, already rambling on the things that you guys could do on your trip, while all he could do was give a weak smile and reluctantly agree. Of course, after hearing that he agreed, his mother was ecstatic. His father had to essentially hold her down or else she'll leap off the table and gather everything you two needed. You could definitely tell where he inherited his usually bottomless energy from.

---

The rest of the night went well. Dinner went on without a hitch, and you and him offered to wash the dishes like you two always had. There were small jokes thrown around--jokes about your families' unrelenting enthusiasm, comments about how much you missed family dinners, and even some plans for camping. You then splashed him with a bit of water out of habit, froze, and stared at him, scared he'll shy away again. He stared back, then immediately started enacting his revenge. You were having so much fun, it felt like the whole "avoiding you" thing never happened. It felt nice. You missed this.

Unfortunately, the night ended too soon, and the two of you had to head back for class in the morning. Just because home wasn't far doesn't mean it's close enough to be a nice commute to class.

As you left, the two of you said goodbye to your families. Your parents made you guys promise to actually go through with this camping trip or else they would be very sad. Your father joked that he would stuff you two in a barrel and ship you to the camp site and you just laughed, rolling your eyes.

Like how you arrived, the two of you left separately. The drive back was much nicer. There weren't many people on the road and you were no longer dreading a family "meeting." When the both of you arrived back, you went to him for a little chat. Just to plan for the camping trip, you say.

He felt hesitant to be alone with you again, making you start to feel worse. You didn't want things to be this weird between the two of you, but he's not making things any better.

"Just to clarify--I won't force you to go camping with me if you really don't want to. I can always make up an excuse to our parents," you told him. You would like to go though, it would be a nice break from everything. If he skips, then you guess you're going alone, your heart aching.

"No, it's not that. I just-- I-I don't know," he groaned. He looked distressed about this--torn between something.

"I know I haven't been the most...present, and I'm truly sorry. It's not you at all, I just don't know how to deal with myself at the moment."

You assured him that he didn't have to deal with things alone and that even if you might not be able to help, you could still listen. Moral support, y'know? He sighed and shook his head.

"I really, really appreciate you're trying to help, I really am. I just don't know if I'm ready to face it yet. B-but, I can definitely go camping with you. Maybe all I need is a little break."

Again, you didn't pry. His reassurance didn't do much though, but you were glad he agreed. The two of you then agreed on a time and place to meet before heading out for camp, and decided that it would be most convenient to just take one car. You guys could go shopping together for materials and tools needed before then as well. Maybe then things would start looking better. All there is to do now, is wait for spring break. It's only a week away.

---

That week flew by fast. Not much progress was made between the two of you, unfortunately. You blame it on your professors cramming you with work right before break. He was mostly MIA too, which was honestly quite upsetting. Even if he was busy, he should've replied to your messages with something right? You literally saw his speech bubble pop up a few times, but he never said anything. You really do hope that all he needed was a break--you didn't know how much longer you can take this. Your heart could only take so much.

You met up with him at the designated spot, and he also looked a little disheveled. And off the two of you went, heading to buy supplies first, then actually setting off. It will be a long drive.

The two of you couldn't sit in silence--you couldn't sit in silence. He seemed nervous and fidgety while he drove, so you tried your best to make small talk. You got him conversing with you about classes, about professors. Stuff you've already heard about, but you'll take anything at this point.

Eventually, the conversation switched to him again, about how he acknowledges that everyone around him is increasingly getting concerned with his behavior. How he seemed too troubled. How he hasn't even been responding to your texts. Hell, even his ex thought it was weird. They ended the relationship mutually, but they never would've thought it would affect him like this.

"I-I promise--I will talk this out with you this week. I know I've been selfish and I've been keeping you in the dark, but I'm just...a little scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"That... it won't end well. I would never forgive myself if it won't end well."

"I also promise, that whatever you throw me, it won't change anything. We've known each other for so long--what could a conversation do? We would literally bury a body for each other."

He chuckled at your comment, but you could tell he was still stressed. What the ever-loving fuck could get him this stressed??

---

The car ride ended up being more relaxed than you could ever hoped. Sure, maybe you stared at him a little too often, but you two were having nice conversation. It eventually devolved into you both threatening each other with catching fish and stuffing it in each other's sleeping bags. Feeding each other to bears. Throwing wasp nests into each other's tents. By the time you arrived, the two of you were in a better mood than you were at the beginning of the drive, the would-be "talk" far from your minds.

The first thing you guys do is to unpack. The majority of what the two of you brought was food and clothes. You didn't bring much else because it'll be insanely annoying putting everything back again, and you know for a fact you won't be able to roll up your sleeping bag up the same way you did before leaving. And of course, you packed enough portable chargers just in case. You promised you won't be on your phone much this trip, but you never know. Maybe you just need a few hours of doomscrolling one night.

Then came the tent pitching. Neither of you pitched a tent before, and you probably should've looked up how to before you left. Service sucks out here, so looking it up won't yield much. Pitching the tent took you guys a good few hours--most of it was spent making fun of each other, throwing dirt at each other, and deliberately messing with the other's tent. Your heart swelled hearing his laughter again. It was more fun than you imagined.

Unfortunately though, you might've messed around a little too much and accidentally ripped a large hole into the side of his tent. The two of you stood there frozen for a bit, just staring as the edges of the rips fluttered in the wind. You stared at each other, and burst out with laughter.

"Why did you do that??"

"Me???? You started it!"

"It's against the rules to use a stick, y'know??"

"You threw a rock at me you fu--"

The playful shouting match ended up as a wrestling match, but it didn't get anywhere. After exhausting yourselves, you laid next to each other on the floor, breathless, but still blaming each other. Just like when you were younger. You turned your head to look at him, but you were met his his eyes already on you. A little caught off guard, he looked away. You swore you could see his ears flush a little. You're starting to wonder why he's getting shy again--everything's going so well so far! What could it be now?

"Well, what's the plan?" you asked. "We can't really leave one of us outside being eaten alive by bugs."

"I feel fine leaving you out to be eaten by bugs--at least then I'll be spared."

You smacked him and the two of you laughed. You let your hand rest on his arm, testing the waters. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away.

"But seriously though--I think we have to share a tent. Sleeping outside with bugs for a whole spring break will actually be considered cruel and unusual punishment."

He stayed silent for a beat too long. The silence felt like an eternity and it suffocated you. Your heart thundered.

"Y-yeah, that works with me. We still have our separate sleeping bags, and it's not like we've never had sleepovers before."

You let out an internal sigh of relief, but you're thinking more and more about why he's acting like this again. It feels like he would rather die than look in your direction right now, and he sounds...flustered? Are you reading this right? First he avoids you for months, paining you to no end, and now he has the balls to be shy?? And he's said it himself--it's not like you guys never had a sleepover before.

...

Could it be?

You sat up and buried you face in your hands again, which were now shaking slightly from the rush of sudden rush of emotions. It couldn't be, right? At this point you're just trying to convince yourself to not jump to conclusions. Sure, you've been dreaming of this being real for years, but it can't be that easy right? He basically ignored you for months because he liked you back???? You don't know whether to be pissed or ecstatic at this revelation.

"Uh, you good?" he asked, sitting up as well, concerned. His caring nature was not helping your situation right now.

Your brain spun while you tried your best to think of some reason that wouldn't expose your internal turmoil at the moment.

"Um. It's getting late--how do we wash ourselves?" Nice save.

"O-oh, yeah. We do have dirt all over us, don't we?"

"I'm guessing that lake is our bath for the week, but if I find that a spider climbed on me when I'm butt ass naked we're leaving immediately."

The two of you laughed again, but unfortunately that did seem to be the only solution. Either that, or hope there would be rain often enough so you won't stink. Which doesn't seem likely, nor does it seem pleasant.

Eventually you guys agreed that the bathing should happen when it's still light enough out. Both of you would hate to have someone rescue you in from drowning or spiders when you can't even see each other. But as you mentioned, it was already getting late. You two are literally watching the sun set while sitting on the forest floor right now. So, taking turns bathing would probably take too long.

So of course, as the idiots you were, you both (didn't want to, but still did) agreed that dunking yourselves in the lake together would be easiest.

You were dying inside, and pretty sure he was too. From the last light of the sun, you could see that his ears are positively burning. And he's still refusing eye contact. Now you were almost positive he likes you back. You're still kinda pissed, trying to wrap your head around this reality.

You psyched yourself up enough to get up and pull him up along with you, getting yourselves ready to wash off all the dirt on you. You just have to remember, it's not like you guys are bathing together, just in the same vicinity or else someone will be bear food. And it's not like you guys never went to the pool together--it'll be just like that. At least that's what you're telling yourself.

He maybe tripped way too much on the way to the lake. It was incredibly cute but you were not much better. You definitely didn't run face first into branches. You made fun of each other for being so clumsy, but it was honestly weird to even acknowledge that the two of you were bumbling around like fools because neither of you want to confess you like each other.

Now, confidence started building in you. You kinda want to see just how much more flustered you can make him before he realizes that you like him back. Maybe you can tease him a little, pretend you don't notice how shy he gets now, work him up even more. As payback. He's the one who first ignored you for months after all. Of course, you have to get your own head in the game first. Calm your giddy self down to even begin trying to pull this off...which might take a while.

You were jittery even undressing and getting into the lake. Making your way into the water, you dunked yourself fully underneath the water, trying to clear your mind enough to enact the "revenge." The water was warm, which was nice. You could feel the ripples of the water as he made his way into the lake as well. First step should probably be getting closer to him now, right?

You did surface eventually, and you did catch him looking away at the last minute again. With a plan in mind now, you decided to splash him--you were originally tempted to pull him underwater with you, but you did remember that you're both naked. So for now, splashing it is.

He did turn around, a little hesitant. You watched as his eyes briefly glanced at your figure before deciding to look at anything but you. You could also see the gears in his head turning before he decided to splash you back, laughing as another war began. You used this as an opportunity to get closer to him, getting within arms reach. You kept aiming your splashes at his face and laughing, he tried to defend himself. He instinctively grabbed onto your arm to slow your onslaughts and oh!

Whoops!

You slipped!!!

While slipping in water doesn't really work the same as tripping on land, but you definitely didn't purposely fall on him. Definitely.

He caught you and froze immediately, eyes wide and face flushed deeply. Your heart thundered in your chest while you gave a lighthearted apology, claiming you got too into dueling him you slipped on mud and lost your balance. You could feel the heat radiating off of him. There were so many emotions running through you right now.

You became more nervous as his grip on your arms tightened just slightly. You stared at him, drinking in the sight in front of you. He looked incredibly delightful right now--his hair and skin were all wet, the last rays of sun shining on him, making him look like he's glistening. His chest was heaving as he took deeper breaths, whether it's from all the splashing or your sudden proximity, you didn't know. You could just catch a flicker of his eyes behind his hair as he stared back at you. And of course, he looked away right after, looking at anything but you.

But on the other hand, the pit in your gut gnawed at you while you feared this teasing would backfire. Would push him too far out his comfort zone. Would result in him cutting you off more. You're afraid of scaring him off. There was a reason why you never made a move until now. You could feel the hand gripping onto your arm shake a little now.

You really, really hoped you weren't doing the wrong thing.

"W-why. Why are you always so good to me?" His voice shook as he muttered his question. It was so quiet the beating of your heart almost drowned it out. It caught you off guard.

"What are you even saying?"

He continued gripping onto your arms, trying to push you away slightly but yet not letting go. You stood your ground.

"You're always there for me. A-always there to comfort me, to give me advice. To share the blame when I did something wrong. Even after I essentially ignored you for months--you never hesitated to want to help me. To solve my problems. Problems I placed onto myself. Problems that are actively hurting you."

You stood there speechless, just listening to everything he had to say. He couldn't look you in the eye, but couldn't let you go either. You slowly inched forward, testing the waters and hoping that he won't run from you. He didn't. His head hung low as his voice started to quiver.

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve this. T-to deserve you. I took you for granted. You're still here even though I treated you so awfully--I'm sorry. I really am sorry."

He's finally looking at you now. His gaze was still shy. Hesitant. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, pulling on your heartstrings.

"I won't ever forgive myself if I lost you."

You're so close to him now. Almost instinctively, he laid his head onto your shoulder, arms around your waist. His voice was barely audible.

Your head spun to comprehend this. He's confessing. Your heart swelled, affection fueling you to cup his face. He tensed up just slightly.

"Why would you ever lose me? We've been through way too much now, you can't get rid of me even if you wanted."

He gave in and leaned into your touch.

"My ex made me realized just how close I am to you. How attached I am to you. How much I needed you. I was s-scared it'll scare you away--it scared me. When they left I was left with with nothing to distract me from those feelings. I hid and ran away from it for so long I didn't even realize how much it affected you. I was so a-afraid of destroying what we've had for years that I started actively ruining it."

Tears started welling up in his eyes and you brushed them away. The look he was giving you was making your heart burst. Cuteness aggression is getting harder and harder to combat.

"I don't even know how to make it up to you-"

"Kiss me."

He looked at you with his eyes big, unsure of himself. His hand around you tightened.

"A-are you sure? I know this is sud-sudden and we're all the way out here alone but I-I don't want you to feel pressured to do a-anything you would regret because of me-"

You wanted to smack some sense into him. This fucking idiot. He's literally holding you, naked, and he's still scared that the feeling's not mutual.

"Sudden?? I've been waiting for this since high school--do you want to make it up to me or not? Now kiss me or I'm not letting you touch me tonight."

He didn't need to be told twice. Only after a fleeting seconds of hesitation, his hand cupped your jaw so softly, as if you'll fade away if he's too eager. He pressed his lips against yours, quivering, kissing you slowly but desperately. He's still nervous, but he needed this. Needed you.

You tangled your hands into his dark curls and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He held onto you like you'll disappear at any second. You licked his lips and he let you in, tangling his tongue with yours, groaning into the kiss, breathing out your name like a prayer.

You needed more, and you could feel that he thought so too. With your bodies pressed together, you could feel every bit of his desires. You rubbed against him just slightly, earning a groan from him. He's kissing you like his life depended on it, and you could feel the heat of his flush from his face travel all the way down his chest. You could feel his warm body trembling against yours.

You hands wandered his body while you broke the kiss, his shaky breath on your lips. You pressed kisses all over his neck, shoulders, and collarbones, your previous months of anxiety and pain resurfacing as frustration.

"I wanted you all to myself since we were fifteen-" You sucked on a spot on the nape his neck, his voice caught in his throat.

"-but you were never interested in me. Never noticed. Too oblivious and in your own little world to realized how much I wanted you to be mine. So I never made a move. I didn't want to lose what we had. Make you uncomfortable-"

You shoved your leg in between his and he gasped, brows knitted, muttering apologies as he held onto you tighter, keeping himself grounded.

"-and then you had the guts to ignore me for months. Made me think that our years of friendship were for nothing--and now you wanna make it up to me? Then I'm not letting you off easy. We're not done until I'm done with you tonight."

You pushed him far back enough shuffle you both onshore, and he whimpered. An adorable sound.

You laid him on his back and you straddled his hips, intertwining your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him again. You moved downwards and latched onto his nipples, his voice cracking and back arching as you took him into your mouth.

He looked at you with a deliciously desperate expression. He ran his hands wherever he could reach--over your thighs, up your sides, squeezing your hips, before tangling his hand in your hair.

You switched to the other bud, your free hand toying with the one you just left. You could feel him get harder underneath you, hips bucking into you to chase pleasure. You're not letting him have any relief.

You pulled away and sat up.

"Nope--we're not doing that," you said, holding his hips still. He whined.

"W-what? Not doing what? I'm not-"

"You-" you pointed at him. "-are not getting anything more than what I give you. You're not touching yourself or coming until I say so. This is revenge whether you like it or not."

"W-what? No, please, I'm so sorry-"

You didn't let him finish. You kept a hand on his chest to keep him down while your other grabbed his hardened dick, giving a good stroke before settling yourself at its base. He gasped, hand flying to your wrist.

"At-at least give me a warning before you-"

"Nope!"

You continued stroking him and his shyness pretty much flew out the window--you turned him into a desperate, needy, babbling mess. You discovered he loves it when you tease his tip--one small squeeze and he wailed, precum leaking out like a faucet. You loved it.

"M-more, ple-ase," he whined. You smiled, then contemplated. Well, he was being very good for you. He was adorably vocal, voice shaky and breathy, chest rumbling under your hand while he begged, turning you on so much. His thighs trembled underneath you while he tried his hardest not to move his hips to fuck your hand. He held onto you hips like his life depended on it.

You gave him a quick peck on the lips--he tried to chase your lips for more when you pulled away, giving a small whine and a barely noticeable pout. You would love to draw more reactions from him from just kissing him, but you move downwards. You settled yourself in between his legs, eyeing the cock now in front of your face. You gave it another stroke before kissing his sensitive tip.

He threw his head back with a broken moan. You are so excited to break this man.

You kissed down his length, licking a stripe on the underside of his cock after reaching the base, hands playing with his balls while you're down there. You felt him twitch. His fingers found their way in your hair again.

"Stop t-teasing me, please," he whined. He almost sobbed when yo mumbled your refusals against his dick.

"I said so before--you're only getting whatever I give you. As payback."

Instead, you doubled down on your teasing. You licked his tip, running your tongue over his slit, and sucked it. You could taste his precum. With a cry, he bucked into your mouth.

You held him down with more effort, but continued to take him further into your mouth, licking and sucking whatever you could. You found a prominent vein on the side of his dick and attacked it, kissing and sucking it from the base to his tip. By this point, he sat up and propped himself on his elbows, chest heaving.

You took him all the way to the back of your throat and he gave a drawn-out groan, gripping your hair tighter, pushing your face more into his pelvis. You hollowed out your cheeks to suck him and he cried out.

"Ahh- I-I'm-I'm close. I'm so close-"

You tried to pull away to deny him his orgasm, but before you could, he grabbed your face and bucked into your face a few times, his dick hitting the back of your throat. He twitched, and with a silent scream, he came.

His ropes of cum choked you just slightly, running hot down your throat. He took a few seconds to recollect himself before pulling you off him. You coughed, gagging slightly, and he immediately started apologizing, holding your face and trying his best to clean it.

"I'm s-so sorry--are you ok? I-I didn't mean to-"

"You-" you cut him off again, poking a finger into his chest. Your jaw was a little sore and your voice was a little croaky now, but how dare he.

"-I said you could only come when I say. But since you wanna cum this badly, then-"

You pushed him back down again, and grabbed his softening dick again. His eyes widened and his hand immediately flew to your wrist.

"W-w-wait, wait--I'm sorry. I'm sorry-- please, I just came-"

"Nope--you wanted to cum. I'm just giving you what you want."

You removed his hand on your wrist and held it against his chest, pressing down and keeping him still as best as you could. You straddled him to keep his legs from squirming. Your hand stroked his cock back to hardness and he threw his head back, crying out apologies and pleads for mercy. You're not giving him any.

He's shaking harder than you could imagine and his voice louder than ever, now incoherent. The filthy squelching of you jerking his cock is fueling your lust. You could see tears streaming down his face as his free hand tried to grip onto anything he could.

"I'm sorry, 'msorry, slow down. Slow down please, pleasepleaseplease--ahhhgnn, c-close. 'mclose-"

His ramblings slurred, devolving into whines and cries as he melted in your hand. With one squeeze of his tip, he came again, body curling to the point he's almost sitting up. Cum came out in small spurts, eventually slowing to a dribble. You kept your hand on him, pumping him slowly as he rode out his orgasm. He sat up fully and wrapped his arm around you, laying his head on your shoulder as you sat in his lap. You gave him time to recover just a bit. His breathing was shaky and heavy, his body still shuddering under yours.

You ran your clean hand through his hair and held him there for a bit. He was positively drenched in sweat and your other hand was covered with his cum. It took a moment for his breathing to calm, and you honestly thought he was going to fall asleep.

Instead, you felt him nuzzle against your neck before pressing small kisses there, light and gentle. You giggled at the sensation--it was more ticklish than anything. Eventually, his soft kisses and pecks became more desperate, sucking and nibbling you, leaving hickeys to mark you as his. You groaned, but then laughed.

"You're not done? I thought you about to fall asleep. Never knew you were this insatiable."

You could hear a small pout in his voice when he replied.

"I-I never got to touch you, and you spent all your time getting m-me worked up, so I thought tha-that I should at least let you finish too, y'know," he mumbled into your neck, voice a little raw. You smiled. He really is just too cute.

"Who said I'm not gonna finish? I'm not done with you yet."

He tensed again, hugging you tighter and burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. It was almost as if he's trying to cage you in some way so you would stop torturing him.

"W-wait--wait. Wait please. For j-just a little bit. I think I'll actually die if you make me cum again t-this fast."

You laughed at him but you agreed. You're not that mean.

"Then work me open. I doubt either of us brought lube, but since you came so much, we can use that for now."

He happily--but bashfully--agreed. He looked a little weirded out when you pretty much handed his own cum to him, smearing it all over his hands, but he got to work immediately. He kissed you, savoring your taste before moving downwards and sucking on your collarbone. He shifted you on his lap and you felt his fingers prod your hole, circling, massaging. His name fell from your lips breathlessly.

He licked your nipples before taking one in his mouth. At the same time he pushed a finger into your heat, earning a groan from you. You gripped onto his hair when he inserted another. He thrust his fingers in and out of you slowly, scissoring you open as you gasped. You squirmed in his lap but he held you still. Your back arched, whining, as he pushed in a third.

At this point you were breathless. You moaned out his name and grinded your hips against his fingers as he pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. Understanding that he found your sweet spot, he attacked it with vengeance, doubling his efforts in both fingering you open and sucking on your skin. The coil within you tightened and you felt that it was about to snap.

"S-Stop. No more," you said, pushing away slightly. He looked at you like a kid who was caught doing something he shouldn't, big eyes staring at you with both concern and disappointment.

"Is s-something wrong?"

You gave him a quick kiss before moving to nibble on his ear, whispering into his ear.

"I want to come on your cock. May I?"

You felt his grip around you tighten and his dick twitch again. He's so easy. You loved the amount of power you have over this man.

"Wh-wh-what--h-how. D-don't just say that out of nowhere. Y-you were never this blunt when we were back in high school. Then neither of us would've had to wait this l-long."

You flicked his forehead and he pouted.

"Because now it's finally mutual dumbass. You were the one who ignored me for years. Stop being so flustered now and let me ride you."

He took his fingers out of you, leaving you disappointed at the emptiness, but all that was replace with excitement as you swiftly grabbed his cock. He's hard again. You smiled. How insatiable.

He grabbed onto your hips, whimpering as you lined him up against your hole. His hot tip pressed against you and you shook from anticipation. You groaned in unison as you pressed his head in.

You sunk slowly, feeling his grip tighten the more you took him in. Whining, he felt you press flush against his hips, now all the way in your tight walls. His voice cracked when you grinded your hips against his.

You pushed him onto his back again, resting your hands on his chest while you started moving, pulling almost all the way out before slamming yourself back down. You screamed as a wave of pleasure shot through you. You waited too long for this.

His dick filled you up just right, hitting every sensitive corner as wanton moans spilled out your lips. You kept a steady pace, bouncing on the dick you wanted for too long. The wet slap of skin mixed with the chorus of your moans was obscene.

He was also holding onto his sanity by a thread, hands sinking into your hips with so much force you won't be surprised if he left hand prints. His brows were knitted as he thrusted into you to as much as he could, crying with you on his cock. You screamed when his tip hit the spot he previously abused with his fingers, once again attacking it over and over. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you arched your back and rode him.

Your rhythm started getting sloppier, and you both could tell you're close. He was too--you felt him twitch inside you as his voice got louder. You redoubled your efforts in riding him, bouncing on his dick, grinding into him, and clawing at his chest like an animal possessed.

Slamming your hips down, you came with a drawn-out shout. You tightened around him as you shook, ears ringing and vision white. Your head swum as he continued to thrust for another moment before coming as well--for the third time that night. He cried out your name as he held you against his hips like it was his lifeline, cum dribbling out in small quantities now. It was still hot.

He fell limp against the lake shore, exhausted and spent. His hand held onto yours. You laid yourself on top of him, cuddling him in the dirt while you two recollected yourselves. You just wanted to sleep.

"P-please tell me you're done for the night," he murmured after catching his breath. You laughed, but reassured him that you're also drained. He let out a lighthearted sigh of relief before holding you close.

"D-does this mean I'm forgiven?"

You hummed. Maybe.

"Please?"

His half-lidded, glossy eyes stared at you. You can't fight it. It's too hard.

"Maybe. But you're forgiven at least for tonight."

With a smile, he kissed you, slow and sweet. You savored it, swallowing the taste of him.

---

You don't know how long you've been laying there with him in silence, appreciating each other's presence. The night was warm, so the fact that you two were all sweaty and sticky didn't bother you too much. You were about to reluctantly get up and rinse yourselves off so you won't catch a cold, before he frantically yelped, startling you.

"OhmygodIthinkIfeltaspider-"

You both laughed as he dragged you back into the water with jelly legs, quickly washing yourselves off before more bugs decide to climb you two like a tree. Drying yourselves and throwing on clean clothes, you guys ran back to the tent to the best of your abilities, giggling like children.

Throwing together a quick campfire (not quick--neither of you knew how to do it, but you managed eventually), you sat together on little popup stools to eat something. Only then you remembered neither of you ate an actual meal since that morning. You two cooked hot dogs over the fire (maybe burning a few) and made s'mores for dessert.

It was almost 1 AM when exhaustion caught up to you again. Unfortunately, your sleeping bags weren't big enough to fit two, so you guys just scooted yourselves close to each other before falling asleep, full and content. You're looking forward to the rest of break alone with him. And of course, more payback. You had the whole week to yourselves after all.

---

"Sooooo how was camping? Do anything fun?"

Spring break ended and the two of you arrived back on campus, deciding to hang out at his before getting ready for classes again. The two of you were draped over each other on the couch, cuddling while scrolling on your phones, showing each other stupid memes from time to time. As if she knew you guys weren't doing anything, your mother called, immediately interrogating you.

"Was everything figured out or do we have to arrange another date for you two?"

"What are you even talking about-"

"Don't play coy with me child, everyone within a ten mile radius could tell you were head over heels for him. Well, except for him apparently."

She laughed while you watched him flush red, burying his face in his hands and groaned.

"It's not like I was oblivious on purpose," he said meekly.

"Oh goodness! You are both here! That can only mean it ended well!! Now dear, tell your mother everything--you don't know how long all of us have been rooting for you two to get together! Who confessed first? Did you-"

You hung up, incredibly embarrassed. Not even a second passed before your mother texted you a winking emoji and told you two to have fun. You groaned as your eyes met with his. You both laughed and continued to enjoy yourselves on that couch--as much as you could before classes started again, at least. You could face your parents later.

[arbitraryglasss]

"Vulnerability"

(Obey Me!) Lucifer x gn!Reader . Smut/Fluff . Submissive Lucifer/Dom Reader, Bottom Lucifer/Top Reader, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Kisses, Begging, Handjob, Vulnerabilty, Pet Names

Reader Is Called; 'Master'. Lucifer Gets Called; 'Baby' and 'Good boy"

" You begin the night straddling Lucifer's lap. Gradually you coax his pride into allowing him to slip into sub space. "

Ao3 Mirror . 1,139 Words

Kinktober Day 2: Sub Space

Under 18 do not interact with this post, please and thank you

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m.list |

Pride can be a troublesome thing. Occasionally getting in the way of things such as relationships, hindering one's own happiness. It was a thing to be balanced. As too much or too little can very well lead to misery.

Lucifer had a decent grip on that balance. Restraint being something he was rather skilled in. Able to understand the concept of being in the wrong, and even apologize for it. Not to mention he's referred to you as his master before. Generally not quite as stuck-up nor arrogant as his brothers sometimes say in their complaints.

Though you have witnessed two areas where his pride can become an obstacle. His tendency to bear burdens alone. And right now. Where he looks to be having an internal struggle underneath you.

Vulnerability seems to bring difficulties from time to time. Despite the prior mention of your title, the words back then only came out of his mouth after going on about 'belonging to him, not the other way around'. Plus he was under the effects of a certain syrup.. It was something, though it can take a bit of extra effort to crack that internalized shame in certain moments. He wasn't against submission, not if it's for you, the problem was his subconscious doesn't always deem it acceptable.

"Comfortable?" You check from your position, straddling his lap atop his bed.

"Yes." Lucifer responds back, simply.

"Title." You remind him. There's that special word you'd like him to try calling you tonight.

"Yes.. master." He manages it after a breath, receiving the reward of a kiss to his forehead, 'Good' muttered against the skin. Not 'good boy', you're not quite there yet. You don't want him to feel coddled, or infantalized, nor fluster him too much in a way that'd result in him feeling the need to pull away. You'll start with simple.

Leaning back up you trail gentle hands down his chest, "Can I remove any of your clothes?" The question is considered shortly, only for a second, before he nods. Yet you remain where you are, keeping still to allow him some time to decide if he's truly okay with it. When he only stares back expectingly do you start to undress him. Keeping trust in his word to speak up if he changes his mind about something.

After some work on both your ends are you free to take in the sight of his form left in only his boxers. He's beautiful. You had already figured– but seeing the sight is something else. The eldest, Diavolo's right-hand man, an Avatar of sin. No one else in the history or future of all three realms would ever have this opportunity. Because most importantly he is yours. Your lover, as you are his. So you will cherish him accordingly.

Your hands return to their motions. Up his torso, nearly meeting his shoulders, then trailing back down past his ribcage and to his stomach. Permitting himself to be exposed seems to be a feat of sorts to him. Face flushed and trying to remain still. Ignoring the faint prideful urges to run away, or force you off. Internally reminding himself that in this moment he is alright– he is safe. With you he is safe to be exposed. He wills that knowledge to be embedded into his instincts.

Still, he cracks a half-joke, "You better not be planning on taking any pictures." Alluding to his brother's failed attempts to catch a photo of him declothed, just for the sake of selling it.

"I won't." You're quick to affirm, "Not unless I have your permission. And even then it'd be for mine and your eyes only. Kept under a secure folder."

"I'll have to keep that in mind, then." Good, he's beginning to properly relax. Less tension in both his muscles and expression. Thoroughly believing in the security you offer him. You take that as a sign to continue.

Kisses are peppered across his body, adorned to every inch that you can reach. Going as far as crawling down to show his lower half some love, but not yet making contact with his crotch. That'll come later, if he's still in the mood. Your eyes flit up to catch glimpses of his face, seeing he's turned slightly bashful. But his body language still reads acceptance. To the point of trying to meet your lips whenever you come up to his face. You indulge him, how could you not when he's being so earnest with you?

"Master." He whispers, close to your ear, "Touch me more." What a sweet tone. One that stirs the arousal you had put aside.

"Can you say 'please'?" You're testing your luck a little, you know that. Knowing this could accidentally push him in the wrong direction. But he sighs a content sigh.

"Please. I want you to touch me, master. Please touch me more." Oh, he's begging. You've already got Lucifer begging. Showing his need by taking hold of your wrists and placing them where he wants you. Down, down, to the one piece of clothing you hadn't removed.

"Do you want these off, baby?" The pet name slips out. You can only hope he doesn't mind it.

Contrarily his eyes gloss over further once he hears it, "Yes. Please." And you oblige. Stripping him down to full nudity. Fully hardened, just waiting for you to pleasure him. Maybe even use him.

Your fingers ghost over the shaft. A light, barely-there start. It doesn't take you long to press the pads against him, followed by leisurely wrapping the full hand around his cock. Lucifer's body gives little jolts, their frequency increasing once you begin to stroke him proper. Thumbing the tip whenever you can, leading to his own pre getting smeared along him.

His eyes are focused on your ministrations. Mouth opened giving way to small pants and even quieter moans. Something tells you he's holding his noises back.

"Let me hear you, baby. Don't hold back." His eyes flutter close, head resting further into the pillow. Relishing in every movement, every stroke.. your proximity, your body heat. The trust and vulnerability; How you won't take advantage of it. You'll see all of who he is and cradle him with nothing but love.

He practically melts. Growing more vocal, just like you asked. Somehow he becomes more beautiful by the minute. Blush extended to his ears, eyes shut, chest rising and falling. Rising and falling. It's mesmerizing– He's mesmerizing, your darling.

"Good boy." You finally tack on that extra word. And he moans, loud and unabashed. You can pick up on the word 'master' trailing off in the end.

He's fully yours. Finally left behind anything holding him back. You're definitely going to savor it and take good care of him.

The night has just begun, after all.

kinktober 2025 m.list

[agunigooner]

Kinktober day 1!!!

Degradation kink- Niragi sunguru

Warnings: name calling, smut, position not mentioned but Niragi is putting it in

Niragi’s groans echoed around the room as the sound of the skin slapping on eachother became louder and louder. “Taking me so well you fucking slut” he whispered into your ear as he pounded into you, making you moan louder.”you were fucking made for this huh? Made to take my cock” he continued, watching your eyes well up with tears from the pleasure. “You gonna come?” He asked, his voice filled with lust as you nodded frantically “should I let you come, huh? That’s all you care about anyways huh? Would sit back and let me fuck you all day if you could.” He continued as tears rolled down your face. “Are you crying? Does the slut need to cum this badly?” He continued, his smirk only growing bigger at the sight of you nodding.”come on my cock then” he said as his own cum filled you, the warm liquid mixing with your own. He started kissing your neck, leaving little hickeys on you as you both calmed down”you were fucking amazing” he whispered,leaving another hickey on you.

A/N: heyyy!! It’s a little short but I had no other ideas on what to do 😭

[running-with-kn1ves]

Congrats on 5k!!! Can we get the possessive facetime bf and "you should have known better than to cheat on me" please :D

A/N: Thank you! And tbh I made this a smutty smut smut as well b/c i feel like this is how possessive bf would handle the situation. Aka poorly.

CW: dubcon NSFW, gagging & bondage, penetration (GN Reader), reader flirts w/ someone else, reader & possessive bf originally both intoxicated

It was too late for this. Or maybe, too early. You lost track of time long ago, glowy green numbers on your alarm clock reading 1:45 AM when you first stumbled back home with the pissed drunkard beside you, dragging you inside by your arm. You were practically sober now, your headache screaming as you felt the blissful simplicity of being tipsy leave your throat. You wish you drank more, did something more outrageous than give some stranger your number. Maybe you should’ve kissed him, should’ve stuck your hand down his pants instead of batting your eyelashes. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have to face your boyfriend’s wrath-- he’d have been too heartbroken to even think of reprimanding you. 

But it didn’t matter now, not when he decided to deprive you of your senses while pumping round after round inside of you. It was a form of white torture, he hystericaly answered when your arms were jerked behind you, tied with what you thought might’ve been a makeshift restraint or a necktie, but was instead harsh braided rope meant for cattle or ransom victims. It scratched your wrists as he pulled your head back by a fistful of hair, promising that “you’ll be begging for his forgiveness by the end of this.”

With the blindfold he seemed much too prepared to have wrapped around your eyes, Malachi ripped off your skimpy underwear meant for the club, stuffing it in your mouth and narrowly avoiding your biting teeth. 

When you both went to celebrate his cousin’s birthday party at a nightclub, you had partly decided to ignore him for treating you so possessively the past month, logic being thrown out the window with the sudden accompaniment of lemon drop shots and a handsome stranger showing you more interest than your jealous, pissed off boyfriend had in ages. You felt wanted, desired. It was nice, even when you felt daggers in your back, and a tugging hand on your shoulder every five minutes. The last straw was when you wrote your scribbled, illegible phone number on the strangers’ arm. 

Saying Malachi was enraged was an understatement. You were jerked away, stumbling and laughing as you blew a kiss to your midnight affair. Did you want more? You didn’t know. All you knew, is you wanted a fun night out without having to cater to your obsessive boyfriend’s every need. You wanted to feel sexy, lusted after. 

But maybe you should’ve pulled that stunt at a time when Malachi wasn’t around. Then, you wouldn’t be sobbing behind the gag, hearing the wet squelches of cock being bullied inside of you. Your insides felt bruised, nipples tugged and bitten as Malachi slamed in, in, in from below. 

Normally, you’d have the power when sitting on top of him, grinding and allowing him to lay limp. But with your thighs spread apart on his flank, hands against your ass and every sense blurred, he thrusted into you as you barely held yourself up. 

“This.. is.. what.. you get--!” He huffed, snarling as he slapped the growing welt on your ass cheek. You heard his gasped gag, hips stuttering with his broken orgasm splaying inside of you. 

Which orgasm was this? You couldn’t remember, the vibrating toy milking out your sweet spot still going as a mixture of clear-white came to coat Malachi’s dick. He hadn’t eased you in, hadn’t given into the foreplay he’d usually tease you with, even when he normally hate-fucked you. 

“You know better..hng, been taught, time, and time again… hah,” You tried to squeeze your legs shut to keep him out, but the hands keeping you lifted moved to violently pull your knees apart. You fell onto his chest with a choke, the sweat dripping from your cheeks mixing with the caked layer on his chest. “You’re just making it too easy for me to punish you, huh?”

You muffled through the gag, prating incomprehensibly as the painful overstim of your lower half was worsened by this new, weak position. 

Malachi lazily rutted up into you while coming off his high, pressing your hips down each time to enter deeper. He always went to the hilt of his cock, so deep inside that it made your walls ache and splinter. 

“I’d almost say you’re a masochist fr’me,” He panted, lifting you by the jaw to look into his eyes. “ Wanna be pounded by me for flirting with other guys, cheatin like a common streetwalker, mm’?”

You shook your head, unable to see him but knowing those green eyes were boring into you. 

“Seems like you still don’t fucking get it then. Well, we’ll be here until you do.” 

The gag was pushed deeper down your throat with his thumb, hips rising as he let go of spreading your cheeks to stabilize you. Skin smacked against skin as he pounded up, letting your poor hips fall each time he burrowed out. 

“I can’t!” You muffled, the tight pain of another rising orgasm coming beginning to blind you. You couldn’t take this one, your body wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

Attempting to slide off, you tried to maneuver your legs away, arms still bound as you struggled to inch off of him. If he was as tired as you, maybe you’d get a chance away. 

“Oh no you don’t,” He growled, digging blunt nails into the fat of your thighs with one hand, while the other tugged at your scalp. “Think you get to rest? Get a chance to relax after cheating on me?”

The encircling vibrator was turned up tenfold with the sudden drop of your hair, fingers moving to tug at your ear. “No way, not leaving until I THINK you’ve suffered enough.” 

Malachi got close, licking a long stripe inside its canal as he jutted into your weeping entrance faster. The squeaks of the mattress made you cringe, hearing the wetness of his cum layering between your ass and thighs, falling to the sweaty sheets. 

His heaves for air grew louder, pushing your shoulders back to force you upright again. You still slouched, even with Malachi’s arm tugging your restrained hands down backwards. 

“Gonna take my cock like the.. Hungry whore you’ve been..take it till you’re sorry. And even then, Hah…” He laughed, a pissed and out of breath laugh that made him work harder to bruise your furiously drenched hole. “--still won’t stop cumming inside of you.”

You could only crack a groan each time his hips snapped up, in rhythm with his movement as you felt the vibrator bring you to the brink of another painful, consuming orgasm. Tears and drool dripped from your face alike as you prayed for him to nearly have his fix, lest you pass out from the ecstasy and suffering of another round. Atleast it wasn’t another painful edge session, your hazy mind tried to comprehend. Though at this point, you wondered if that’d have been better. 

“Waz.. Mnph, Drunk..” You tried to choke from the bundled up gag, hoping maybe he’d offer you some sympathy out of your previous lack of inhibition. 

“Sorry, baby. Doesn’t matter, still actin like you wanna fuck other guys n’ front of me,” He circled his hips upward, watching as your already open mouth created a sweet ‘O.’ You couldn’t help the noises you released anymore, not when he used what you liked and abused it--  but your moans seemed to satisfy Malachi.  “But you ready to say you’re sorry? Make it up to me, yeah?”

You nodded your head erratically,, wanting this to end no matter what you had to do. You were exhausted, the lessening vibrator making you sigh in relief despite the aching bruising still inflamed by the plunging cock hilted inside of you.

“Awe, you’re so cute. It’s not enough, though. Say sorry all you want, I wanna hear you.” The evil trick of the calming vibrator had snuffed your awareness, making you jolt when it was snapped back to a level 10. “But I’m not letting you off the hook when you still got so much left to pay for.”

[luvvforlife]

PAIRING : dom!drifter (deadlock) x sub!gn!reader.

SYNOPSIS : one day, you awoke with fangs, a thirst for blood, and those soulless red eyes that haunted your vision. he told you he'd take care of you after the ritual that sacrificed your humanity to keep you alive. your morals said to you that it was wrong to sink your teeth into this stranger, yet your stomach continues to growl as your eyes focus on the blood spilling out. the drifter was going to have so much fun breaking you by bringing home something he knows you can't resist.

TAGS : 4.5k+ words, smut, extreme dubious consent, dead dove do not eat, aftercare included/optional, cannibalistic themes (blood sucking - reader giving), bloodplay, depictions of gore and violence, unhealthy relationships, coercion, corruption kink, penetration sex, handjobs or pussy rubbing (reader receiving), crying during sex, hickies, slight hair pulling, rough sex, no prep/no lube, moments of dissociation, degradation and praise, mindbreak, body betrayal.

NOTES : | 12/7/25 | yes, the sleep token song called "take me back to eden" inspired this fic. this was also supposed to be a halloween post, oopsies! i’m also experimenting with a new format! thank you @mieows for making the drifter graphic for this fic <3 i love it sm!! also i’m so excited for the next big update to deadlock >u<.

You note the sound of the crows cawing as they circle above you in the cloudy sky. It was strange; it was too quiet for New York as you cross the street. Cars may be parked along the side of the road, but there is not a single person out on the streets. 

Instead, you wander the road alone, hands shoved deep into the pockets of your coat as your stomach growls. 

‘Maybe it was a good thing no one was out,’ you think.

Ever since that night, it’s been difficult to look strangers in the eyes without that immense hunger that curled itself in your stomach. All you remember was that you were bleeding out, soulless, red eyes that you were pleading with to keep you alive flashed across your vision; if you recall, “the Drifter” is what the rumors called him. 

Ever since that night, you awoke with a hunger that never went away, roaming the streets with a newfound appetite for flesh. 

You’re a monster. 

Suppressing these feelings has led to your isolation, the only person in your corner being the Drifter himself, as he guided you through vampire-hood. 

He remembers the night all too well. It was classic: a full moon as he heard you screaming for help, alone in an alleyway. The scent of your blood overwhelming his senses, your cries harshly penetrating his ears like a loud screech. 

Surely he should’ve killed you right then and there. Maybe make you suffer a little before he takes you out of your misery. He was known for playing with his prey, according to one rumor, although that person seems to be mysteriously no longer with the living, unable to confirm. 

He couldn’t sink his teeth into you, not when your eyes pleaded with him so prettily. Your vision might’ve been blurred with tears, as your body fought hard to keep itself alive, but your [eye color] orbs that flickered with life and death shone rebellion. 

You’d do anything to stay alive. 

New York hasn’t been the same ever since the first maelstrom. Creatures of various mystical and enchanting forms haunt the streets, almost like out of a fairytale. But there was no prince charming or knight in shining armor to come save you; it was just the Drifter. 

Drifter prowls with his sharp claws, pointed teeth, and the smell of death that lingered around his being. He is the enigma that lurks in the shadows. He is the predator that city folks warn you about if you even dare to walk alone at night. They say you should carry silver jewelry in case you ever get pounced on by a werewolf, and that vampires can’t enter your home without an invitation. But what modern tales don’t warn you about is that the Drifter didn’t abide by any of those made-up rules, only creatures who wished to assimilate with mere humans. 

The Drifter can only be described as selfish, cruel, and bloodthirsty. Unfortunately for you, you’ve become his newest toy. 

He promised you that he’d be there for you in such trying times. It’s going to take some time for you to get used to your new vampiric urges, after all. You know it wasn’t wise for you to trust him, but what else can you do?

The Drifter is no man to be messed with.

You know that more than anyone. 

But who else can you turn to?

There was no one else who could relate to your animalistic cravings, to the looks of terror that flash across the faces of strangers on the streets, the overstimulation in the new strength of your senses. No one could relate, except for the Drifter. 

Over the past few weeks, your body has become fatigued and malnourished due to the promise you set for yourself. 

You can’t drink the blood of people, and you most certainly can’t kill someone. 

But God, you’re starving. 

The Drifter told you to meet him at the nearby apartment. He told you that he knew a way to satisfy your hunger. And out of desperation, you climb up those steps, never looking back, like the day you lost yourself. 

It’s better if you come here on your own accord. After being acquainted with the Drifter for about a month now, you knew better than to disobey him. 

Your mind plays out its cruelest and most wicked memories: you remember the Drifter hunched over the mangled body, the person’s intestines practically spilling out of them, their face completely mauled and unrecognizable. With the state of their body, they were most certainly pronounced dead. There’s a fog in your mind, wondering if your eyes were playing a sadistic trick. A hallucination, a delusion, any excuse that would comfort your soul.

 But it was all real; you watched the Drifter tear this person apart, horrific screams that still play in the back of your head, and the blood stains that have collected on the fabric of the Drifter’s wife-beater. 

The worst part of all is that you were made to watch. Your feet refused to run, and your eyes didn’t dare to look away. You were trapped in the passenger seat as the Drifter held his hands tight over the steering wheel, and his foot slammed the accelerator. 

Drifter would wipe his mouth, smearing the blood across his face, a poor attempt at cleaning himself up as he walks up to you. Your eyes shift down: there’s a trail of the stranger’s blood that tracks against the concrete as the Drifter’s intimidating figure looms over you. The intoxicating scent of iron floods your senses, but strangely enough, it doesn’t disgust you. Like catching a whiff of a freshly baked pie cooling down on a windowsill, it tempts you. The scent curls itself in your belly, comforting you from the emptiness, but not enough to appease the never-ending hunger. 

The feeling terrifies you. 

You flinch when you feel Drifter’s hand cupping your cheek, shutting your eyes instinctively, his long claws threatening to pierce the flesh. His hands are cold, lifeless. 

The blood covering his hands still feels warm.

“I like the deer in headlights look ya’ got going for ya’,” the Drifter comments, and despite not partaking in the Drifter’s violent attack, the blood that’s smudged across your cheek feels like it’s covering your hand. 

Opening your eyes again, you don’t say anything as your eyes quickly shift to the ground, unable to meet the glow of the Drifter’s red eyes. You gulp, your vision wavers as you catch sight of the corpse not too far behind the Drifter.

You could only imagine what he’d do to you.

That was what you thought to yourself that tragic night, and it’s what you think to yourself now as the door to the apartment swings open. 

“I told you,” you start, voice small and meek, “I don’t want to eat anyone!” 

You would’ve been angry, but just as the fire ignites, it burns out. Your passion was too strong for your frail body. 

“Aren’t ya’ hungry?” The Drifter asks. It would’ve been a simple question if it weren’t for the heavy, limp body tossed over his shoulder.

Like it weighs nothing. 

Your lip quivers, tears that well up in the corners of your eyes, but refuse to shed. 

The Drifter was the only one you could confide in about your fasting. Even if you weren’t complaining about the aching pain, in the silence you normally shared, he knew. 

He could hear it, the growls of your stomach that pleaded for the bloodshed.

“No!” You answered quickly, too quickly. 

Faux confidence and assurance that the Drifter senses. 

The Drifter drops the body at your feet.

“No!” You yell again, whether that was in response to his actions or your desperate attempt to cling to your remaining sanity, you aren’t sure. 

What you are sure about is the incredible smell that wafted throughout the small room.

You stumble back, shutting the door behind you, trapping yourself in the room. 

No one needed to see this. 

“Thas what I thought,” the Drifter teases you, bending over to pick the body back up. He leaves the room, carrying the body. 

You didn’t get a good look at the room, but you noted the furniture that had been thrown about, as if there had been a struggle. Like there had been life before you arrived. You don’t allow yourself to linger for long, not wanting to be left alone, so you follow in the direction you believe the Drifter has disappeared.

Like an obedient puppy. 

You hated him, yet a part of you craved for his validation more than the blood. 

You’re a monster, but worse of all, you’re pathetic. 

The door is left open for you; your presence is expected. The Drifter has laid the body down on the bed, the sheets that were made one last time stained with its owner’s crimson liquid. The stranger looks like the perfect dinner atop the white sheets, and the Drifter can only think the same as he looks down at your innocent yet honest expression.

You’re salivating. 

“What’s holdin’ ya’ back, dear?” The Drifter asks, approaching your figure and placing a hand on your mid-back, “You deserve this, so c’mon, dig in~.”

His voice is gruff, but you hear his words in a clear, crisp tone. You bite your lip, holding the Drifter’s words close to your heart, letting them echo throughout the chambers of your ribcage as your body moves on its own. 

Like a ghost, your body is weightless as it floats to the side of the bed. The Drifter helps you onto the bed as you straddle the corpse. Your fingers stumble over each button in anticipation, excitement; it courses through your blood, and you swear you can hear the sound of your pounding heart in your eardrums.

It’s funny, you could’ve sworn that thing stopped beating when you awoke in that alleyway. 

You remember the sound of Drifter’s rough voice validating the hunger, reassuring you. His words dripped in honey; maybe this is okay. Your mind goes blank, you don't need to think as your hands unbutton the person’s shirt on their own. 

Typically, it’s a prayer before every meal, but you don’t bother as your tongue glides over your top teeth. It is finally time to use your new fangs. With a sharp inhale, you sank your teeth into the newly revealed flesh of the stranger, instantly sucking up the liquids that poured from the lifeless body. 

“Adorable,” the Drifter compliments, your grasp tight on the collar of the corpse’s shirt, “so beautiful dripping in blood~..” 

He’s enamored, tucking away any hair that may have fallen into your face as you consume the forbidden fruit.

All the shattered pieces left of yourself are set at the front door; you’ll never go back to retrieve them with the Drifter’s hold on you. 

Your eyes nearly roll back into your head, the metallic taste blessing your taste buds as one of the Drifter’s hands crawls towards your hip, rubbing the precious area from outside your clothes.  

You haven’t even gotten to the main course yet. 

You pull away from the corpse’s neck with a heavy sigh, immediately delving back in once the air expands your lungs. You don’t pay any mind to the vital fluids that drip from your chin; instead, you continue to gulp down the juices that flow like a river. 

You’ve been hungry for so long now.

Lost in your feeding, the blood that still ran warm coating and comforting your insides, you don’t notice the Drifter’s hand that roams at the front of your pants, groping your crotch from outside the fabrics. 

The Drifter leans over your body, his chest touching your back, his mouth right next to your ear. He chuckles, his warm breath fanning the shell of your ear, as he feels how [wet/hard] you are as he slips his hands in the waistband of your pants. 

Your fangs sink deeper into the stranger’s neck, your moans muffled by the flesh you’re desperately sucking on, when the Drifter begins to grind his hard bulge up against your ass slowly. Your mind feels dizzy, and you begin to feel a bit overstimulated. This new taste and the sudden pleasurable sensation shouldn’t feel so good, but it’s a feeling your body didn’t know it craved as you subconsciously part your legs, allowing the Drifter to reach further. 

There’s a dreadful shiver that climbs up your spine, an iron grip on the collar of the body’s shirt as the Drifter coats his fingers in your precum, playing around with the fluids and smearing it up and down your [folds/shaft]. You hiss through the flesh, the sound of your gulps, and the slick between your thighs, causing your whole body to tremble in pleasure. 

You’re feeling way too good. 

It’s horrific. How can the hands that are [playing with your poor pussy/jerking off your poor cock] be the same ones that have snapped the limbs of victims in their futile escapes, that have torn flesh apart like it was paper? Hands that have stolen the lives of others, how can they bring your body so much euphoria? 

The Drifter’s movements are sloppy, like he has never tended to another person in a long time. 

“Can’t believe suckin’ on some blood bag’s got ya’ so [wet/hard],” the Drifter degrades. 

His demeaning comment causes a whine to rupture through your throat. The contrast of the Drifter’s unfaltering strokes [between your folds/on your cock] with his sharp claws threatening to puncture your skin. Your eyebrows scrunch together as your fangs separate from the flesh, moaning into the crevice between the victim’s neck and shoulder. 

With a whimper, you catch a peek of the Drifter’s wide, maniacal, and sinister grin, and it makes you let out an audible gulp. Swallowing any words that tried to croak past your lips, swallowing your bravery and disobedience, reminding you of the blood you had desperately gulped down.

You’re trembling in his grasp, a grimace on your features as the Drifter chuckles, a chuckle that shakes you to your core. 

“What? Cat got ya’ tongue?” Drifter asks, that frightful look in your glossy eyes, making his boner strain against his slacks. 

You shut your eyes tight, letting out a shuddering sigh by the way the Drifter [circled your clit with his fingers/tightened his grip around the girth of your cock]. A tear slips its way past your lashes, streaming down your cheek as the Drifter immediately laps it up. 

“Stop!” You cry, thrashing around in Drifter’s hold. His chest presses up against your back, using his full weight to keep you down, as the hand previously on your hip tangles into your hair, stuffing your face into the stranger’s neck.

Your sobs are muffled completely while a storm consumes your thoughts: when was the last time you were able to indulge in yourself like this? It’s been weeks, months, maybe even years. Your selfishness led to the death of a person the world will soon forget. 

You can lie here thinking about how this is all disrespectful, indecent, and improper: Instead of dancing on the grave of the dead, you’re allowing yourself to [get fingered/get a handjob] atop this corpse. The thought: it disgusts you, but what you know will haunt you forever is that there’s a small inkling of a feeling that you know you want more. 

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when you feel the Drifter’s lips ghost around the skin of your neck. 

“Please, no!” You cry, panic rising in your veins.

As if a lack of an invitation or permission has ever stopped the Drifter. He’s the unstoppable force that has torn all your walls down.

“Just wan’ a  lil’ taste is all,” the Drifter fails to reassure you, licking up the side of your neck, sucking the supple skin, “can’t help it, you just smell so good..” 

You bite back a response; you hate to admit it, but his mouth felt euphoric against your skin. The sound of your pulse by your neck drives the Drifter crazy, taking all of his self-restraint not to just pounce on you right then and there. 

Your body feels tense, even with the smoothing circles Drifter is applying [to your clit/to the head of your cock] with his fingers, or the warm sensation of his mouth latching onto your skin, leaving fresh hickies, marking you as his property. Everywhere his hand touched felt like a burn, branding your skin, and you wanted his hands off. But just like any burn, his touch provided your skin the soothing comfort it needed. He can't let go.

The realization hurts. 

Timidly, you crane your neck down and allow yourself to drown your moans into the neck of the victim. The taste of their blood bursts in your mouth instantly. The faucet in your eyes streams relentlessly, the bitter flavor of your tears slipping into the corner of your lips, and you savor the blend, biting down harder. 

“Atta [girl/boy], you keep suckin' ‘em,” the Drifter encourages, pulling on the person’s hair and revealing more of their flesh to you, causing it to rip apart from how tightly your teeth had been clenched.

Your combined strength in a brief tug-of-war makes it feel like something has finally landed in the pit of your stomach. 

You let out a small sniffle, blood, tears, and snot streaming down your ruined expression. Your mind refuses to comprehend just how fragile this person is; you don’t want to acknowledge how easily they broke. 

Instinctively, your lower half subconsciously begins to grind itself against the Drifter’s hand. It begs for release. The Drifter lazily [rubbing between your folds/stroking your cock], your body grows impatient. He’s so close to pushing you to the edge, if only he just [rubbed/stroked] you faster. 

This pleasure isn’t meant for you. 

You know you’ll never reach your orgasm at this rate. 

You whimper, grinding into his hand harder, desperate for your orgasm.

“I know, I know,” he coos, his pace torturous, drawn out, making sure you feel everything, “it feels good, doesn’t it, sugar~?” 

‘What does he know?’ You think to yourself. 

Does he know that because of him, your hands are permanently stained with the blood of others? Does he know of your sleepless nights due to the hunger keeping you up? And does he know that every day you mourn the pieces of you that die?

God, you’re so exhausted from these thoughts.

Your soul has grown weak, but this high is one you wish to ride out. You’ve never felt such fulfillment in a long time. 

“C’mon,” the Drifter starts, curling his fingers in your hair and pulling your head back, his threatening tone dripping with impatience, the sting in your scalp making you release the stranger. 

“You like it when I make ya’ pathetic [pussy/cock] feel good?” 

A sharp pain pulses up your spine from the harsh tug he has on the strands of your hair, wanting to shrink in on yourself under his deadly gaze.

“Mhm,” you whine, bottom lip quivering, “It feels amazing, please let me cum..”

A fatal chuckle erupts from the depths of the Drifter’s chest, withdrawing his hand from your pants, “I know, you’ve got ma’ hand soaked with your precum~.” 

Abruptly, he let go of your hair, and you collapsed. With weak arms pushing your body up, you look over to see him admiring his wet hand. 

And in one swift movement, the Drifter pulls down your pants and underwear, your bottom half completely bare.

He’s a deranged monster, nothing like the romantic vampires you can vividly reminisce about reading about in all your favorite literature. 

The Drifter isn’t gentle, loving, or caring. He acts on impulse, his animalistic instincts. You know all of this, but what scares you the most is getting a taste of just how good it can all feel. 

“You’re my favorite whore,” the Drifter reassures you, licking his lips like you’re a slab of meat, “you know that?”

That sick and twisted feeling forms an uncomfortable knot in your stomach, rubbing your thighs in anticipation. He’s driving you crazy every second he allows the cool air to brush against your sex; you need him to defile you now. 

“Please, ruin me for anyone else.”

Is that what you said? That voice doesn’t even sound like your own. It’s frail, and it’s weak from your endless cries. You're not even fully aware of what you're asking for; you're just saying things to fill the silence because it sounds good. You’re going to bite off more than you can chew. 

Nothing feels real. You’re not sure why Drifter is laughing so much; nothing is funny. Your head feels like it is submerged under water, and it’s difficult to make out or understand the next moments. Shifting in and out of reality as Drifter’s body shifts and rocks against your own. You only snap back into the present when the sudden intrusion of Drifter’s thick cock enters your hole. 

You scream, your nails digging into the arms of the corpse beneath you, leaving crimson lines in the pale flesh. Any ounce or fraction of the illusion of intimacy is shattered; no warmth or comfort is provided by the Drifter as your walls tightly clamp around his girth. His size has your head reeling, practically going limp, with only the Drifter’s large hands keeping your hips up. There’s no time for you to become accustomed to the new sensation when, instantly, the Drifter begins thrusting his cock in and out of your hole, his heavy balls slapping against your bottom half. 

You sob from the sting of your walls; every thrust feels like the Drifter is ripping you in half. Your body can barely handle him, your hole stretching itself beyond belief for the sheer size of his cock. The head of his dick abuses your [g-spot/p-spot], the intense and forbidden feeling knocking the breath out of you. You’re babbling nonsense as your eyes practically roll into the back of your head. 

You didn’t want this, right? 

You felt betrayed by your own body. Why is it that you feel your own [cunt/cock] getting wetter, dripping onto the sheets with each painful thrust of Drifter’s hips? The Drifter consumes your every being, having seen every side of you, from your insides and out. 

You can’t seem to recall how you ended up in this position. But somehow, you found solace in Drifter’s rough embrace, for all the suffering you’ve been put through; somehow, you feel like you’re finally being set free. 

The Drifter punishing your sweet hole with his cock is something your mind tricks you into believing you deserve. Weakly and subconsciously, you rub your hips against the Drifter’s crotch, the sound of his slick coating your walls and piercing your ears.

There’s consolation in the sweet scent of the gore right below your nose as the Drifter pounds into you, your nails still gripped tightly into the stranger’s supple flesh, and the pleasure buried deep inside your hole. 

Before you know it, every painful thrust suddenly loses all feeling, numb to the pleasure, and your face is blank and unfeeling. Your mind homes in on the knot that slowly starts to form in your stomach, the same stomach that gorged itself from the limp corpse you’re still straddling. Nothing can break your focus on each buck of the Drifter’s hips, your body begging for release. A lightning strike, a plague outbreak, or the next maelstrom cannot divert your attention. All your senses are consumed by the Drifter, like a lamb to the slaughter.

Your breathing feels intense and laborious, taking large gulps of fresh air between Drifter’s sloppy pounding. Moans continuously spill from your lips; you don’t pretend to be against the pleasure being forced upon you. 

Your hole twitches around the Drifter’s cock, your stomach fluttering around his massive size as it enters and leaves your hole. 

“Ya’ squeezin’ me like crazy, darling,” Drifter groans from above you through gritted teeth, his grip on your hips tightens, your frame appearing so small in his large claws, too much pressure, and he can break you.

It’s amusing to him just how weak you are, being able to manhandle your body back into his thick cock, his precum lubricating your walls. 

“Not gon last long,” the Drifter warns, and all of a sudden, all of the fear rushes back into your body. 

You’re not sure if you’ll last long either with the way the Drifter is fucking you. 

Your vision wavers: from between your legs, where you take sight of the Drifter’s cock rutting into your tight hole, his thick precum dripping onto the sheets. You look up, and you're instantly met with the lifeless face, the person you have been feeding from. 

Excitement fills your stomach, causing your intestines to tangle and tighten with knots. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release, your mind going blank, with a buzzing in your ears. 

There’s a distant calling of your name, but you don’t hear it, too absorbed in your own body, being overtaken by your orgasm as you bite down into the stranger’s neck one last time, sucking the nectar and muffling your loud cries. You swear you see white as with one final thrust, the Drifter coats your insides with his thick seed. 

In that moment, the Drifter is all you need. You belong to the Drifter, branded by his hickies and the bruises where he held onto you too tightly. 

At an agonizing pace, Drifter slips his cock out from between your walls, caressing your ass cheek as he watches his seed drip down from your hole. 

You pull away from the stranger’s neck, letting out a sigh of relief, taking a moment to gather yourself. 

That’s when you gasp, eyes widening as you stumble off the bed, bolting to the connected bathroom. The realization, the guilt, and the shame flooding your veins. Your legs are aching, but you manage to prop yourself on the bathroom sink, wanting to let out a hysterical cry, but your voice had died not too long ago. Gripping the edges of the mirror, nothing reflects back at you.

You’re mortified. 

You don’t even get the luxury of seeing the empty shell of the person you are now, a dead person walking. 

Bleeding out on the concrete, your path dissipating like a trail in the forest, yet your feet kept moving forward. You wonder to yourself why your heart kept beating, why the blood still ran through your veins, why you’re even alive. 

Maybe death would’ve treated you better.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

“Hey, sugar~, you feelin’ alright? Don’t worry, you did amazing, took me so well, and everything~. Could be a famous [actor/actress] with the performance you put on, haha! Oh, don’t give me that long face, makes me wanna eat you up~. Remember, nothin’ wrong with enjoyin’ dark themes in media, as long as you’re enjoyin’ them in a controlled and safe environment, like a fanfiction. No one gets hurt, and you can always take a step back. Drifter’s proud of ya’, darling~. Let’s get us both cleaned up so we can cuddle, yeah? Perfect.”

© luvvforlife ✧.* the drifter belongs to valve from the game “deadlock” that is still currently in its play test as i’m writing this. the reader belongs to you, and the story belongs to me, aigis.

[deadhands69]

Total Party Kill

Kinktober: Oral Sex w/Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo x gn reader

When your boyfriend's DnD campaign goes a few hours over, you take matters into your own hands. Or mouth. Contains: gn reader, oral sex (m receiving), semi-public. 🎃 kinktober masterlist 🎃

“We’ve been stuck in this tomb for six hours, can we just lock in already?” Shoko’s voice sounds from out of Satoru Gojo’s home office.

Dungeons and Dragons happens every Friday night, but tonight it’s gone three hours over the usual time. 

Yuki cuts in. “Well, if Ino wasn’t in the corner with his mage hand the whole time maybe we could have –”

"This is why Nanami won't play with us," Shoko cuts in again.

"No," responds Satoru, "Nanami won't play with us because he hates fun." Quietly under his breath he adds, "and the dreaded penis monster that has eyes for him and only him."

A few groans ring through the speaker while Ino laughs.

“Okay, okay,” Satoru asserts, “like Shoko said, everyone lock in. Now, who’s turn is it to roll? Ah, Ijichi! You've been so quiet that I forgot you were here!”

Hours ago, the two of you made a deal. You get yourself turned on while he finishes playing, then he’d fuck you after. He’d be done at 9pm like usual. 

Now, it’s midnight and you’ve made yourself cum four times. 

It’s his turn now.

As you sneak in, Satoru’s too invested in the game to notice you crawling under his desk.

“A natty one? Yeah, you took a lot of damage. Ino, you're up!”

While adjusting your position under the desk, you hit your head on the bottom. Satoru looks under. You watch his face shift from confusion to understanding before he sits back up. He switches to his headset to block out the background noise.

"Yeah, sounds like a great idea," he continues as you unzip his pants. "And you rolled a 19? You backtrack to the last tomb and find another mage hand. I love that for you!" 

You can almost hear Shoko and Yuki groaning from the other side of Satoru's headphones. He laughs.

With a tug, you yank his pants down to his knees. His underwear are quick to follow. Finally, his cock springs free with a cute bounce.

You wrap your mouth around the tip while your hands grasp his shaft. He's not fully hard yet, but he's getting there.

“Are–are you sure, you want to use an enlarging spell?” Satoru says into the headset, “okay, your choice. Roll for it.”

Meanwhile, you’re using an enlarging spell of your own. His erection has grown substantially enough to hit the back of your throat when you take him all the way into your mouth.

"I-" he gulps, "I uh, yeah. That lands."

Your head dips lower, sucking as much of him in as you can at this angle. His thighs tense. You bob your head a few times and listen to him stutter.

"A, um 12? You rolled that, fuck, uh. You can hit — er, it hits but it bounces off. Uhm, next up."

Your lips tighten around him, pulling back with a pop. After a few strokes, you lick from his base to tip, making him grip the desk.

“Oh wow, fuck. Uh, look at the time! I have to uhhhgghh, mmmm, and the remaining mummies get everyone and you all dhhiiiigghhh and the end.” You hear him pull his headphones off and throw them on the surface above you.

“But I rolled a 19–” Ino’s voice cuts off as Satoru snaps the laptop shut, slumping over his desk.

“Fuuuuck,” Suguru drools over his desk. His hands tangle into your hair, moving it out of your face. He leans back to watch. Moments later, his grip tightens and he throws his head back into the chair. With hips arching into your touch, he let's out something between a moan and a gasp. You can feel his cum gushing out, splattering the back of your throat. Your hands continue stroking him, pulling out every last drop.

As soon as he regains any amount of composure, he slides to the floor across from you. Leaning in, he kisses you like he needs it. After a minute, he pulls away, pointing at his newly revived erection.

“Round two?” he asks.

“It's round five or six for me,” you say, “but I think I could go for another.”

"Good," he says, pulling you to the bedroom. "And here, I thought I rolled a two by being so late to the party tonight."

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