Guys I find myself accidentally spam liking a lot so if I do that to u and u find it annoying I’m sorry lmfaoo
‼️‼️⬇️PLZ READ⬇️‼️‼️
I repost weird stuff on here ok, it’s usually nsfw, so don’t be suprised if you find some heavy smut with weird kinks being reposted 😭😭 like I warned you bro lmao so be aware this is ur only warning
It's finally time! The moment y'all have been waiting for!!!
Let's torment these boys with our lovely lumps! I'll dedicate the last bullet to a reader who's insecure about their bitties but remember, all titties are good titties!! I feel as if regardless of your body type the boys will love every inch of you, and honestly you should too!
(I'm going to default to a Gender Neutral reader due to the overwhelming majority of asks being non-gendered. Next time I open up my requests, I'll add some more clarifications for gender preferences!)
Your body is your own temple, you can decorate it however you wish, polish the pillars you find appealing, and leave yourself offers at your altars, but if you don't upkeep your temple it can cause lasting damage that will just take time to mend. As someone who is learning self love, there's going to be days where you don't feel adequate, and that's perfectly fine! Healing isn't always straightforward. Even if you scrub one tile of your temple it'll make what's left to polish a bit easier, so treat yourself with the same level of kindness you show others, hunt for the things you like about yourself and take baby steps into your own self devotion! Life is too short to be worrying about how others perceive you, all that matters is learning to love the temple that is you!
Tags: NSFW, highly suggestive, GN reader with smaller tits!, no smut, reader occasionally has bare titties out
The Freak Circus is an 18+ Visual novel Themes include but are not limited to: dark elements, strong language, sensitive graphic content. My works can depict similar themes and are not intended for minors.
Pierrot
No matter what you wear around him his eyes are constantly scanning your figure, of course when he thinks you're not looking at him eyeing you like a piece of meat. He feels so incredibly blessed that his darling is so alluring, especially if you flaunt your beauty so openly. It takes him some time to realize that you specifically wear certain clothes around him, or how you'll use his height to your advantage and wear a wide neck shirt with a stunning view from above. Wearing cute bras or sometimes even no bra at all, making him acutely aware of any chilly breeze that kisses your skin.
He tries to hide his excitement when a new bra peeks through your shirt or when he catches a glimpse of a particularly free breast through a low cut top. His mask unintentionally selling him out by putting his fanged grin on full display as his thoughts race a mile a second. Primal hormones occasionally override his loving persona however, and sometimes he cuts activities short to properly show you his admiration.
If you bring up feeling self conscious about the size of your breasts though... He has no choice but to show you just how perfect they are, right? Delicate touches trail up and down your sides as he purrs all of your features that drive him crazy with lust. His hands dwarfing your sensitive mounds as he kneads them, being mindful of his sharp claws as he rolls your nipples in between them, muttering prayers to your divinity under every shaky pant.
His overall favorite part about your breasts however is how they frame your heart. Providing him with easy access to the thrumming in your ribcage when you share a bed. Often finding himself lulled into a sense of peace when he drapes his hand in between your breasts, feeling your heart throb against the back of his hand.
Your new bra was definitely pretty and comfortable, when you could actually manage to put it on properly. Every time you decided to accept the challenge of dueling with the eyelets you were placing bets on just how long you would struggle for before throwing in the towel and submitting to a slip on bra, or even just going braless to spite the fabric's entire species.
You strain against the confines of your frame as you urge the hooks to marry the eyelets in unholy frustration, you glance down at the outfit you laid out, pleading for it to give you a reason to stop this battle of the week. A deep huff and-
"M-my love, can I help?"
You're suddenly acutely aware of the towering carmine clown behind you, his face seemingly reflecting the hue of his costume as drool creeps out of the corner of his faux grin.
You error code, your duel with the lace quickly thwarted as you try to conceal yourself from his prying eyes.
"I'm sorry, my dear, I could not help but offer my help after watching you struggle for so long." He sheepishly pans his heart eyes around your room, finding the mundane suddenly immensely interesting. "Although I also would not be opposed to you not wearing a bra at all, if it makes things easier." His grin sharpens at the thought.
He leans over your shoulder, his head brushing against the curve of your neck, a subtle purr vibrating your sensitive skin. He traces your prude display, being mindful of his claws as he teases the delicate flesh you hold from him.
"Your body is a thing of beauty regardless of what you drape over it. Anything you adorn simply enhances your ethereal figure and adds kindle to my flames of passion, my love."
Harlequin
Just like Pierrot, Harlequin's eyes are always glued to your figure, he's just not the type to be shy about it. He's not above making direct comments about your tits, especially when you wear such revealing bra and shirt combos, or even just shirts. Even if you try to ignore his obvious attention to your chest, he always finds a way to get some form of reaction out of you, whether it be an obvious glance down, a cheesy pickup line, and in some drastic attempts, even going as far as to tease your nipples through your shirts, (it was an accident, he swears). If you decide to wear no bra however, prepare for a very touchy day filled with him ghosting his claws over your skin, forming not only goosebumps, but other tantalizing effects.
He absolutely commits each one of your bras to memory, often making connections to your mood based on which one you decide to put on, subconsciously or not. Although it's always a welcome surprise for him to see you wearing a new bra he hasn't catalogued yet. Often teasing you about "not having to buy new lingerie just for him", and how "not to worry, the spark hasn't died out just yet". That being said, he is the sole reason for you buying new bras, since he gets too impatient with the art of unclasping the barrier to your bosom.
Some of his jokes do tend to dance along the line of bullying sometimes when it comes to the size of your breasts, and if you already struggle with your body image, it can lead to some issues later on. Luckily though he can pick up on when his 'jokes' don't land how they're supposed to. Often halting his advances and toning down any teasing until you start believing his indirect apologies.
Much like Pierrot, his favorite part about your smaller chest is being able to hear your heartbeat clearer, although on a more intimately closer sense. He eventually finds himself only able to get a restful sleep with the thrumming of your heart beating against the coolness of his mask, your heart a soothing symphony to his racing thoughts in the dead of night. Of course he never admits the comfort you provide and always gives you a pervy reason as to why he has to nestle into your sternum every night you spend together.
"You know I didn't mean it, predileto," he huffs out, grabbing you by the shoulder firmly, stopping you from turning away from him, "c'mon, don't be like that."
You don't even remember what underhanded joke he tried to make, your mind buried it as it snowballed through your familiar insecurities about your chest size. Tears began threatening to creep out of the corners of your eyes as you refused to meet his concerned gaze.
"Merda..." His grip softened at the pitiful sight before him. "You could've told me how much it bothered you, my dear," he hesitates slightly, trying to find the words to disarm the hair trigger trap he made for himself.
He takes a deep breath before adverting his own eyes from your potential gaze. "We all have our own insecurities, and it's wrong of me to poke fun at yours." His fingers leave your shoulder to card through his hair, "out of all the insecurities humans have, your chest size being one is sort of laughable, though." His cocky grin grounds you momentarily at the shock.
"Oh, don't act so surprised, dear one. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? The clothes you wear? The way strangers whip their heads just to see you one more time?" A light chuckle follows his honeyed words. You habitually brace for the other shoe to drop, but it never does, at least not this time. You glance up at him and see him nervously fidgeting with his curls.
"I see how they look at you, how he looks at you, and I can't help but feel jealous in a way. It makes me want to claim you as mine." His eyes flick dangerously back to yours, his nervousness instantly leaving the air as he finally catches you in his trap.
You feel tentacles coil up your torso, writhing and slithering under the hem of your shirt as they continue their journey towards that siren's song of a heartbeat. You struggle slightly against him, willing yourself to at the very least be mad at him for putting you in such a depressive state, but the coldness of the smooth scales of his tentacles take you by surprise.
"Your body reacts so deliciously, I might have no choice but to claim you as mine, would you like that? My sweet, little, titmouse?"
There it was. That was the stupid joke that caused your insecure spiral to reap it's dues on an otherwise beautiful day. You shoot him an irritated glare as you feel one rope coil around a bare breast and another toy with your now hardened nipple.
He laughs at your realization, and internally breathes a sigh of relief from his brief moment of vulnerability. His eyes hold a deeper feeling however, one he refuses to acknowledge even with himself. The tentacle wrapped around your breast shifts slightly, opting to rest comfortably curled in his favorite part of your appetizing body.
Right above where your heart races against the coldness of his scales.
Jester
Although you can never catch him, he does steal many glances at your figure, more than he cares to admit. His mind often takes the much needed time to properly admire your outfits and let his imagination wander as he dresses you in more appealing attire. He knows your games, however. He knows how you purposefully don't wear a bra on especially chilly days, as a feeble attempt to grab his attention. You would never be able to tell how much your charms actually affect him behind closed doors though. A new bra causing ink to pool on an invoice. A new shirt causing him to reread the same line four times. A revealing angle causing him to lose his train of thought. Such a troublesome pet you are.
Any complaints you air about any bras you wear are duly noted to him despite his annoyed huffs. It isn't until you find new bras waiting for you in your closet that you piece it together. Often with new styles and materials you never even considered let alone affording in some aspects. Various colors allowing you to properly coordinate your outfits, and the support/framing up to model standards. Of course if you bring this up to him expect him to congratulate you in a sarcastic tone for finally figuring it out.... Finally...?
He's far from naive when it comes to "conventional" beauty standards in the human society, and sure his kind has some standards, but none as asinine and genetic based as humans. Hearing you berate your body for not being in a cookie cutter shape or seeing you shy away from his touch fills him with a new level of loathing for your kind.
Although he doesn't have a specific favorite thing about your chest, he does have the same interest in your heart being so bare to him, so ripe for the harvest, so rightfully his. One of his interests is dressing you in flattering outfits, after all, pets are a reflection of their owners, right? A common theme of his outfits however is your chest, mainly how exposed or adorned it is with accents of stars, his claiming on what belongs to him and him alone.
You were just scrolling on your phone when yet another seemingly targeted ad interrupted your night of calm. Sharing space with Jester while the two of you did your own things was a quality he appreciated and a time you cherished. But this was now the third ad for the same bras you couldn't fit in. Every ad had a busty pretty thing showcasing the overpriced lingerie in a borderline suggestive tone as an effort to boost sales, but you couldn't shake the feeling of envy for what lay past the fabric. You attempted to ground yourself, shifting slightly in your loungewear, longing to feel what it meant to be like the person in the screen.
"Your self depreciating thoughts are distracting me from this predictable plot twist, pet." He adjusts his book in his hand before resting the cheek of his mask on the other.
"Your kinds' beauty standards are truly pitiful," Jester's words hit you like a lightning bolt back to the present moment. His amethyst eyes pinpricked at your screen, a twinge of disgust laced his words, "valuing such a shallow thing as looks it fitting for humans, I suppose."
You pause the advertisement only to be redirected to the items listing, even the mannequin had a bigger set of tits than you. You could feel the familiar gloom creeping in despite the double edged comment.
You could feel your heart grow heavy with the self consciousness weighing your mood down, and Jester must've felt it too.
The sudden page turn caused you to tense.
"You are more beautiful than any of the humans that come across your phone, o predileto." His eyes paused in his printed lines, dilated and half lidded. "True beauty lies in actions over appearance, and I don't take in mutts."
It takes you a second to figure out he was complimenting you, and a pretty big one at that. He flicked his eyes towards yours and you saw a sense of tenderness you rarely witnessed before his pupils sharpened to their regular diamond shape.
He presented his opened palm towards you.
"Let me see if I can tailor something similar for you, my perfect pet."
Ticket Taker
The only one in the troupe to feel a little guilty for glancing at your chest. He falls victim to your antics too easily for his own liking, although his poker face saves him almost every time, often coming up with a clever reason or excuse to take his attention away from your cleavage. Although the image still hangs on the back of his mind for the remainder of the day. His ultimate weakness however is whenever your nipples harden through your shirt. The way your bra sometimes sneaks past the neckline of your shirts has been the reason for a few papers to leave his desk with a suspicious pool of ink at the signature line. It's just the bargain pens though... Yeah... Cheap pens...
You end up learning that different bras affect him in different degrees. Of course, the skimpy ones have an effect on him, but not nearly as much as a traditional solid colored one. The simplicity and domestic nature of a basic bra is something that can't be beat in his eyes. (Lace bras are a close second to him). He's a gentleman of tradition after all, so accidental cleavage is the one way to get him to possibly break his persona.
If you bring up feeling like your chest is inadequate all lewd thoughts dissipate and are replaced with reassurance that you have nothing to feel insecure over. Depending on the time of day and overall mood between the two of you it can get into a hands on explanation on just how hard it is to focus around you. If you're in need of authentic real reassurance he's not opposed to let down his walls slightly to share some of his own insecurities, although vague and left up to interpretation or a later discussion.
Much like the rest of the troupe however, he has an affinity towards your heart, mostly over the physical drum when he ghosts the back of his hand over your chest. The silent reassurance that you're here and alive is enough to chip away at the mountainous stress of everyday life. Although he always asks you before extending his gloved hand out and never presses it into you, allowing you to control how much pressure you allow him to claim.
You try another pose in the mirror and your faux smile falters. Your eyes scan up and down your body like a critical judge, knit picking every small flaw and blemish. You pan up to your breasts and sigh. The shirt you bought probably would've looked better if you had more to give the fabric. You paw at the slack threads, angling your chest in different ways to see if you could lay them in an appealing way, to seemingly no avail.
A blur catches your eye in the top corner of the mirror, a distortion, a distraction from your harsh judgement.
"Everyone has insecurities, dear one."
He clicks the pen closed and sets it next to the pile of papers before leaning back in his chair, his back popping in relief.
"It's entirely normal to have insecurities about one's body. It's part of life." He rolls his neck earning him another satisfying pop and groan. "I, for one, despise my need to complete things to perfection." His voice trails off slightly, debating on speaking his thoughts. "As well as my own figure."
He stands from his desk and joins you in front of the mirror, only his focus is on himself for once. His eyes hallow as he meets his own gaze, "the key is to learn to accept the truths before you and overcome the urge to become something you're not."
His eyes flick towards yours and the softness returns. His hand grazes your chin, gently urging it to tilt towards him. He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding before coaxing a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You are perfect to me because you are yourself."
Doctor
Is still the King of Unbothered-town. No amount of flaunting or teasing seems to affect him, although the attempts to end up interrupting his research when he allows his mind to wander. He's forever thankful whenever you decide to not wear a bra. The tease of being able to see your nipples harden in biological reaction is more tantalizing than any flirty sexual attempts. The subtle jiggle of your breasts a whisper to his desire to study you further. The thrumming of your heart a beautiful song he can change the tempo of at his beck and call. Your teasing attempts ultimately turn against you in exponential time.
If he had it his way you would wear nothing but gowns or nothing at all around him. Your body itself is a thing of biological beauty and deserves to be displayed in it's full natural glory. It takes some time but he eventually grows to like lace. The intricate designs highlight your skin and provide him with a teasing veil to remove when his curiosity piques. The thin material also allows your nipples to still announce the chilly air of his lab free of any padding.
Insecurities confuse him. Being a logic driven being the idea of being insecure or shameful of a body part of all things is nearly incomprehensible. You would have to explain your feelings and issues in painful detail, followed by references of course. Once he eventually gets a grasp on the idea of your self consciousness he attempts to reassure you in the only way he knows how. Education. Painfully blunt education.
Your entire chest is one of his favorite parts of your miraculous body. The delicate skin that provides blood to your perfect mounds, to your ribcage that act as a platter to said mounds, and a barrier to your four chambered heart. Your atrium and ventricles sending your personal melody throughout your body in bursts of breathtakingly gorgeous blood. Give him the chance and he'll map out your major arteries and veins in marker, starting with a surprisingly detailed sketch of your heart. Although this activity tends to get out of hand as he begins to map out more of your body's systems with more markers.
You take a ragged breath, exhausted from trying to reword your explanation of beauty standards and how you don't fit in a few of them, mostly the chest department. Explaining the societal structures for thirty minutes turned you from a gloomy husk, to a frustrated complainer, to a desperate teacher.
Doctor crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, the reinforced legs still creaking at his size. A small grumble slips out into the tension.
"Beauty standards sound nothing like regular standards. Why compare yourself to something that constantly changes and isn't concrete?" He adjusts his mask slightly before curling his hand under his chin in thought.
His leg begins to bounce as he tries to compile the information you gave him into something that made sense. The fidgeting becoming more erratic the more he tried to piece it together.
"Hip dips, hiplets, muffin tops, thinspo, fitspo, apron belly, love handles, thunder thighs, butterface..." He mumbles to himself, increasingly becoming agitated, his boot now making an audible noise as his leg bounce increases.
"All of these 'beauty standards' when the only one that matters is the beauty of anatomy and biology." He huffs in frustration and his leg rests. "If you're body is healthy why does it matter what it looks like. You feel this way about your breasts, sweetie?" He tilts his head to the side.
You flinch at his bluntness before nodding slightly, your arms crossing in front of the topic of conversation.
He focuses on your body language and rises from his chair, the legs screeching behind him. He stands over you but his energy shifts from frustration to a towering gentleness. He palms your shoulder, his touch a bit heavy handed but well intended.
"Your body should be the beauty standard because it is yours. It is miracle of biological machinery that is both the weakest engine yet the strongest marvel I have ever set my eyes upon."
You might have to explain it for thirty more minutes.
You give your king cuteness aggression and he doesn't know what to do with it. It's not anything you're doing intentionally which just makes it worse. Sukuna is just huge so things have to be big to accommodate him and they make you seem so small in comparison.
Like right now, your hair is barely popping out from under the giant comforter you're sleeping under, your face buried in the soft pillows. He can hardly make out the shape of your body through the blanket - absolutely engulfed by comfort. As you should be.
He watches for a minute, the slight shifts of your body, listens to the soft sounds you make in your sleep. The feeling creeps up slowly in his chest, to squeeze you against his chest, to hold you so tight you can't escape, to sink his teeth into your flesh.
"God dammit," he murmurs, two arms already wrapping around you to drag you closer to him in bed. You start grumbling immediately, your hands reaching out to push against him because you know where this is going: suffocated by your ginormous husband.
"No-" you complain groggily, still mostly asleep.
He rolls his eyes, like you could actually stop him.
He hoists you on top of him, strong arms wrapping around your middle to keep you there, another arm adjusting the blanket to keep you warm, the final arm pressing your face into his chest.
"I'm trying to sleep, Ryo. Leave me alone." You attempt to lift your head, just for it to be pushed back down.
"You can sleep here." His arms tighten around you, a mouth forming under your cheek where it rests against his skin. Gentle kisses are peppered on to your warm cheek as you try to fidget away.
The cuteness aggression intensifies tenfold when you turn your head to press your lips to the ones on his chest.
Sukuna stills for a moment, feeling the creeping heat of a blush work under his skin. He releases you immediately after regaining most of his composure. "Get off of me."
"Are you serious? Why did you wake me up then?" you ask incredulously. He pushes you off of him, the mattress dipping next to him as your weight lands. A sleepy smile stretches your face when you notice how red the tips of his ears are. "Can't handle when your partner loves you back?" you tease.
A pillow smacks into your face, followed quickly by a quiet, "Shut up, brat."
SIR NIGHTEYE SMUT. in which you're a villain who breaks into his house, and he punishes you for it.
tw/tags → nsfw, cursing, implied age gap, vaginal, bondage, fingering, oral (receiving), edging, pet names, impact play, breeding, riding, squirting, overstimulation, brief anal — MINORS DNI
note → oh he's too fine and underrated. smut is labelled if you want to skip to it.
the night was heavy with fog and frost, while the moon shone at the apex of the sky, casting only a soft glow over the big house that stood at the end of the street.
as a child, the house instilled a sense of reverence in you; aspirational and hopeful that one day — if you work hard enough — you may get to live in a house just like that one. but as you grew up, the respect you had slowly faded into seething jealousy and anger, as you realised that no matter how much effort you may put in to your academics or hobbies, you'll always come in second place to those who were gifted at birth with useful quirks, under this flawed system.
that was the beginning of your descent into villainy. and tonight was the night you were finally prove to your younger self that you made the right decision.
standing outside the big house, you stared up at it with a sober expression. you couldn't help but wonder who lived there. all this time you've lived nearby but you've never caught a glimpse of the owner. they were probably some big-headed hero; overpaid and worthless.
if they had enough money to buy such a massive house, they probably could afford all the additional secruity measures too. not that it was an issue for you; your quirk rendered the majority of security essentially useless.
your quirk allowed you to take an incorporeal form, in which you cannot touch or be touched, are invisible and can permeate through matter. however, the major drawback is that you are unable to breath in this form so you can typically only hold it for just over a minute consecutively.
still, a minute leaves you with enough time to rush through the front garden — passed all the cameras — and diffuse through the front door without having to break anything or do any lock-picking.
you don't have much time to scan your surroundings, instead you have to pick a room and study it to make sure there are no cameras or people, before you cease use of your quirk. not only so you can breathe again, but also so you can pick up objects that you want to steal.
you end up choosing the living room as that is where a lot of valubles are kept, and since there doesn't seem to be any cameras, you drop your incorporeal form and start picking up random shit and throwing it into your bag.
while you are doing this, you begin to get a general feel for the type of person that must live here. all their furniture is very modern and sleek and expensive-looking — you'd pick up the whole couch and take it, if you could. overall there is a very mature vibe to the decor, with the exception of a couple All-Might pieces of paraphernalia you find laying around. like a decorative silver silhouette laying on the side table. it was really ugly but you took it anyway because it might be worth something.
you continue going around the room and shovelling items into your bag, wary of your surroundings and who might be lurking. however, as you are sifting through the cabniets under the television, out of no where, you feel a blunt pain against the back of your head and everything went dark.
it stung real bad, and you woke up with a splitting headache. although the first thing you noticed was the pain, once your sight comes back to you and the world stops spinning violently, you become acutely aware of your current situation.
tied up vertically onto some contraption, in what looks to be a dingy basement, and opposite you, sitting at a table, there is a tall, slender man with green hair, sharp features and glasses, which he pushes up the bridge of his nose as he stands up.
"you're awake." he states plainly.
you open your mouth to spit a sly retort, and that is when you realise that you can't because he has taped over your mouth. so instead you furrow your brows and thrash against your contraints to express your displeasure. you hated being caught, but it wasn't a big deal, once you were less winded, you could quite easily slip into your incorporeal form and dart away.
"i see you tried to rob me. i have it recorded, and while you were out i took your fingerprints and a hair sample." the man motions to the contents atop the table, where you could see the tapes and plastic bag which presumably had your hair inside, and he held up the fingerprint samples.
"so i suggest instead of using your quirk to run away, you listen to my offer." he subtly quirks a brow, giving you a once-over to see if you were going to switch form, but instead he sees he has stunned you into complete silence, so he continues.
"perfect." he hums, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger in thought as he paces up and down the length of the table. "i don't think you are an evil villain who means to cause harm to innocents. i think you are a troubled young woman who is mad at hero society. would i be correct in assuming that?"
he looks over his shoulder, briefly awaiting a response and you simply shoot him an unimpressed look with your eyes, since he obviously knows you can't talk.
"right. can't speak." he recalls, then keeps walking, "with a quirk like yours, you could have such a bright and promising future ahead of you. but if i were to report you to the authorities, all that would be soiled because of one terrible decision."
even if you could talk, you didn't feel the need to correct him and say that this wasn't your first time commiting a crime.
"so, i am going to make you an offer. you could use your quirk and run away; i'll hand all of this evidence over to the police, they will catch you eventually and you'll spend the rest of your days rotting in prison. or you can let me handle you myself, and this whole incident will be our little secret."
he slinks up to you, and rips the tape swiftly off your face, causing you to hiss in pain. "what do you say?"
you couldn't lie: something about this man standing so close to you, his hot breath tickling your lips and his intimidating stare glaring right into your soul had your panites pooling with arousal. you shouldn't be so turned on by this situation but you can't stop it.
"what do you mean by 'handle me yourself'?" you cough, finally able to inhale a deep breath.
he tilts his head and explains, "i would put you on the straight and narrow path to rectitude."
"like, with a powerpoint?" you rasp.
he narrows his eyes at you through his glasses, and the intense glare causes you to shudder, "no. i have various methods that will instill cheer and bliss into you." he places his finger under your chin, to hold your face up so you maintain eye-contact with him, "they could be described as sexual in nature."
"some weird pervert fetish." your face contorts to reflect your disgust, though it's merely a guise for your bubbling lust and excitement.
"call it what you want." his piercing yellow eyes stare deeply into yours, "if you would rather not engage, then leave."
you press your lips into a thin line, and interally you relish in how well you got off; not only will you leave scot-free, but also this fine man is going to fuck you silly. a two-in-one! funnily enough, you loathe the alternate reality in which you didn't get caught.
although, despite the slight smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, you don't want to come across as too eager. otherwise, he might not view it as a suitable punishment and the offer will be retracted, so you try to keep the overwhelming joy to yourself.
in an attempt to feign hesitancy, you ask, "how is 'cheer and bliss' going to stop me from being a criminal?"
"i'm glad you asked. shows that you're paying close attention." his intense expression softens for a microsecond as he straightens his back, so you can tell your question pleased him. "i believe laughter and cheer is the backbone of our society and essential in the creation of a brighter future. you've already shown good humour through your ridiculously amusing display of incompetence while trying to rob me. it was thoroughly entertaining to watch."
every word that came out of his mouth was more shocking that the last. never would you expect such a stoic man to be so passionate about comedy and humour. also, you didn't appreciate him calling you incompetent but you kept your mean replies to yourself somehow, thus allowing him to continue,
"when you experience the same joy, you'll understand what i'm referring to and will never return to villainy." he says in a very resounding manner, picking up a long metal rod laying on the table and examining it, "you won't be able to walk properly after our lesson, so at the very least you will not be able to commit any crimes for the next couple of days."
you have no idea where he is going to put that stick, but the possibilities rushing through your mind cause your knees to quiver.
"so, will you be staying for your punishment?" he glances at your figure out of the corner of his eye.
"yes.." you stutter out, still trying to give the impression of a coy, confused girl so he doesn't know how desperate for this you truly are. "but can i ask one more question?"
he takes a piece of fabric out from the pocket of his suit jacket and polishes the metal stick, "you may ask as many questions as you would like, darling."
you gulp slightly, "what should i call you?"
he noticably tenses up for a moment before he gently sets the rod down, then turns to you, while adjusting his glasses, "mirai sasaki. though, you may have heard of me under my hero name: sir nighteye."
"oh, you worked with all might, didn't you? is that why you have so much merchandise of him?"
he nods, "the merchandise you intended to steal, yes."
you frown, frustrated that he was still hung up on that — you thought it was time to move on, but apparently not. "well, i'm sorry about that, sir."
he saunters up where you are tied up, metal rod in hand, and uses it under your chin so you look up to meet his penetrating stare, "if you are good, i might forgive you." he drops the rod and roughly prods the side of your clothed thigh, "we must get rid of these first."
[NSFW]
the contraption that was restricting you held your ankles in such a way that your legs where slightly parted. close enough together to allow sir nighteye to yank your bottoms down in one swift motion, leaving you in your panties. however, your legs were still far enough apart to provide space for his slender fingers to rub your labia through the damp fabric.
you gasp at how sudden he was, though you should've expected only efficiency from such a esteemed man. and it was only now that you take a look down to see your bottoms hanging around your ankles that you notice the contraption was holding you a couple inches off the ground yet he still towered over you.
"so wet already, hm?" he whispers, hot breathe tingling against your neck, his lips only inches away from your tender skin.
"mhm.." you whined, partially embarrassed by him finding out how turned on you are, but mostly too enthralled by his expert fingers against your needy clit to care.
soon, he tugged your panties to the side, circling your labia with his finger to gather your slick before licking those same fingers, promptly sticking them up your soaking cunt, causing you to yelp a little.
however, the pain from the initial stretch to accommodate his two digits quickly faded into pure pleasure. even when he wasn't moving, your eyes were still screwed shut while you moaned endlessly, feebly bucking your hips as much as you could.
he swiftly put an end to your unwanted movements by a harsh wack to the thigh with the metal rod, "behave. the true experience hasn't begun yet."
"when'll it start? i need you.. s' bad, sir." you choke, panting heavily and biting your bottom lip to distract yourself from the unmet needs between your thighs.
"since you asked so nicely." his fingers pump in and out of your pussy, lewd squealing noises echoing through the room with each disgusting slap of his palm against your clit. at first he is slow and thorough, making sure the base of his fingers are right the way inside you before pulling out, even curling them a little which would send a lust-fuelled spark up your spine ever single time.
his pace gradually worked up to being more hasty, more severe. his hand was rapidly thrusting in and out of your hole at a speed you couldn't even begin to compute. and every time you tried, his palm would slam into your clit again and send another mind-numbing jolt of pleasure to your brain.
while you moaned, he watched with a fiery intensity. eyes locked to your face, observing every subtle movement and slight twitch. he was obsessed with the way you looked for him, so greedy yet so innocent. all for his gaze only.
because of how observant he was, as soon as you felt your orgasming coiling inside you, he instantly ceased, preventing you from reaching your climax. once you were able to pry your eyes open, you pouted at him and groan, "huh?"
"not yet." with the cloth kept in his pocket, he carefully wipes clean his slick-coated fingers and gets on his knees. "remember, this is a punishment as well as rehabilitation." his angular features partially hidden between your plush thighs was an interesting sight. but you weren't able to appreciate it for long as your eyes rolls back into your head at the euphoric feeling of his tongue plummeting into your hole.
it squirms around, getting a taste for your juices, resulting in a hungry moan from him against your pussy, the vibrations tickling your clit. his lips lap it all up, while his tongue works your aching insides, plunging into you repeatedly.
exploring within the confines of your tight walls, eventually the tip of his tongue finds the gummy spot in you that makes your toes curl every time he brushes up against it. his mouth fucks you out feverishly; such an austere man losing his restraint was such a turn on for you, and had your pussy clenching around his tongue.
"mph— i need you.." you mewl out into the emptiness of the room.
meanwhile sasaki's face heats up red between your thighs. although eating you out was admittedly hot as fuck and had him pitching a slight tent in his grey trousers, it didn't fluster him because he viewed it as a process towards your punishment, opposed to an activity to feed his own lust.
that was, until he heard you call for him in that way — so lecherous and dirty. it had all the blood in his body either rushing to his cheeks or dick. that was when he realised he might be doing this to serve his own sexual fantasies instead of preventing villainy and helping you see the beauty in joy.
but it's something he has commit to. so what ever the overarching reason may be, he can deconstruct it later. for now, he has to see through what he started.
'see through' in the board sense. that didn't apply when he was tongue-deep in your cunt, devouring your insides like a starved, depraved man until your whole body was shaking and you were on the very edge of a climax. which is when he decided to pull out.
your eyes shoot open at the missing warmth against your pussy, and you inhale sharply. deeply uncomfortable with how the sweet bubbling release within your core was swept away in an instant and you were left with a longing ache between your legs. to be fair, he did give you a warning so you can't say this was unexpected, but certainly dissatisfying.
"sir, c'mon.." you plead, pretty cheeks glistening with tears, "wanna cum for you."
"you will, my dear. trust me." he slowly gets up from the floor, cleaning his sticky cheeks and lips with the cloth again. "it pains me to do this but i hope you are learning a very valuble lesson about grief. it's not nice, is it?"
"no.." you mutter, gaze cast to the ground in shame.
but your swiftly met with a harsh sting on your thigh by the wrath of his metal rod, "look at me."
reluctantly, you lift your head up so your watery eyes meet his, and he stares down upon you with scorn. he asserts, "say that again."
"no."
"full sentence."
"no, it's not a nice feeling." you mumble to stop your voice from trembling. your eyes are locked to his, so you pick up on the very subtle change in his expression — he's contented with your response.
"excellent. i think you deserve to finish now." he turns his back to you and walks over to the table. from how far away you are, you can't properly see what is laid out on the surface besides the tapes and samples, but you can tell there are many things.
once he's collected everything he needs, he comes back over with a few items in his big hands. first, there is vibrator in the shape of a c, which he stuffs into your cunt and allows the tail to hang out, positioning it so it brushes perfectly against your swollen clit. you moan quietly the whole time while he is toying around, fixing it inside you. and though he acts unbothered, really you are feeding his lewd desires and worsening his throbbing erection.
then he has a metal plug which he coats in generously in lube, then slips his arm behind you and shoves it into your ass. when he does so, you yelp and jerk against your restraints at the harsh insertion. but your pussy only gets wetter at how full and conjested you are.
"we will get started when i come back." he states, heading towards the door on the other side of the room.
your mind is already a bit foggy , so he is a few paces away by the time you figure out what he's doing, but then you promptly call out, in a slurred salacious voice, "huh, where're you going?"
"to make myself a cup of coffee. i'll be right back."
"what?! don't leave me here al—" before you could even finish your thought, the door slams shut behind him and he is gone. you can only trust that he'll be back soon to please you.
you let out a deep sigh; the first in what felt like ages. but the relief didn't last long as the wind was almost immediately knocked out of you again at the toy stuffed into your pussy beginning to vibrate. and not lightly either, it was essentially thrashing around inside you and destroying your clit.
you assume this would only last a couple seconds and sir nighteye was only doing this to tease you but no. it went on for ages, the piece of plastic ravaging your walls and poor clit for minutes on end. to the point you were shaking and twisting in your restraints, trying to deal with the copious amount of pleasure surging through you.
you screamed and shouted but you don't think anyone heard you. or maybe he did and he just gets off on this shit. either way you couldn't keep it all inside; it was unbelievably good yet it was just so fucking much. to the point you were gasping for air.
with a vibrator on full shoved into your pussy and abusing your clit, and a buttplug that would send jolts of hot ecstasy rushing through you whenever you'd arch your back against the wall behind you, it wasn't long at all until your first orgasm.
then your second and third rolled out directly afterwards. your thighs being covered with more and more slick each time.
by the time sir nighteye came back with his coffee, you were probably on your fourth or fifth — you lost count — and your sore body was laying limp against the cuffs that held you upright, with your head hanging low as your neck no longer had the strength to carry it.
"look at this." he takes a sip of his drink, while sitting down in the chair adjacent to the table, "you're a mess."
"st— stop, sir. ngh, t' much." you somehow find the strength to coak out, despite the heavy vibrations battering your poor cunt.
"i will stop after you squirt." he declares, completely unwavered by your dishevelled state. he folds his legs and stares at you while holding his cup, waiting patiently.
"sir!" you squeal, body consulving in sheer pleasure, and you grit your teeth together to stop yourself from letting out and ungodly shriek and you feel another seering climax build in your core, blistering your insides. it was so horny and good at first but now it was growing overwhelming, "please, please, please!"
"fine." sir nighteye sighs in defeat.
with that, the contraption you were held to suddenly deactivates and the cuffs around your wrists and ankles retract. therefore, without the support of the metal, you immediately fall to the ground and land on your hands and knees. and the force from hitting the ground sends the toy straight out of your hole, aided by your cumulative wetness.
the plug in you ass stays put, not that you were awfully worried about that one anymore now that the main source of the stimulation was gone, leaving you with great relief. you take a moment to catch your breath.
"come here, my dear. sit with me."
your legs are still trembling so naturally when you try to stand up, you immediately fall back down. in fact that's when you realise your whole body feels like jelly, even your arms are so weak they can barely keep you from face-planting into the ground — your previous orgasms have truly wracked your whole nervous system.
despite clearly seeing you being a fumbling mess and struggling to even stand or kneel, sir nighteye just watches silently, not offering you a hand even when you look to him with a glossy gaze.
after a couple mintues of clumsily stumbling around, you are able to half-walk / half-crawl over to where he is sat, but you fall over again just as you reach him, leaving you kneeled on the ground with your forehead pressed against his leg.
that's when he finally extends a hand you, and slips his arms under yours and pulls you up onto his lap, so you are stradling his legs and facing him. you flop against his chest, his toned abs comforting your cheek from through his white shirt.
"you've learned your lesson now, haven't you?" he hums, your head wrapped up in his arms as he idly strokes your hair.
"mhm.." you say into his chest.
"you won't commit any other crimes?"
you don't respond. at first you didn't have any issue with lying to him but now that he's cradling you in his arms like a precious doll, you feel the need to be more transparent with him.
he takes your lack of response as an answer, "understood. i punished you for the crime you did, even so i have yet to give you any incentive to remain righteous."
as he explains himself, his hands work to unbuckle his belt, so he can pull his cock free. your eyes are glued to his monstrous length as it bounces out, slapping against your thigh. he hooks his arms under your ass and lifts you up while he aligns himself with your sopping hole.
regardless of your recent encounter with the vibrator, you were still eager to be filled up with his cock, and for him to fuck your wanton hole until your legs don't work again. "c'mon.." you whine, burying yourself into his neck while he held you over his cock. cuddling into him was similar to nuzzling a statue but it still brought you some semblence of comfort.
especially as his hold on you finally released and you were left to sink down on his massive length, your slick entrance inviting him inside you, and facilitating your hole to gobble him up, all the way to the base despite how you wriggled and writhed.
his teeth grit together. he wanted to blurt all sorts of profanities about how fucking tight you are and how you are an angel that takes him so well, but he choked it back. replaced by faint grunts and sighs.
his vicious stare didn't part from your body for even a second. he was utterly mesmerised by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. and upon noticing your twitching thighs, he was reminded that you weren't going to be able to ride him, so he utilised his hand on your ass to force you up and down on his length, at a pace he was in control of.
he basically used your body is a fucktoy for his own climax, groping your ass how he liked, using your sore hole as his own, and toying with your plug whenever it appealed it him — tugging and twisting it, he loved making you squirm.
it wasn't long before another sizzling pool of pleasure was accumulating in your stomach, but this time it felt different. not only hotter but deeper too. his cock had that effect on you; the way it slammed into your cervix over and over again ignited something carnal within you.
"sir, m' gu— gnh—" the sounds falling from your bruised lips were hardly words anymore and just syllables. you couldn't form a coherent sentence with how his cock was ploughing into you. " 'm gunna cum!"
"go on. go on." sasaki spoke it like a mantra through bared teeth, eyes screwed shut as he revels in your tight pussy clenching down on him.
as the fluid coil in your core finally snapped, you found yourself gushing around his cock, drenching his grey trousers in the process. though you were too consumed by the sensation to care; your back was arched into him and a scream-like moan departed from your throat.
"(y/n)." he rasps at how your walls spasm around his length, and it tips him right over the edge into his orgasm. as he releases his hot seed into you, he lands harsh slaps to your ass repeatedly, punctuating each with a "fuck" under his breath. he kept smacking it until there was a searing red handprint left on your skin.
not that you minded. it was actually quite sexy hearing such a strict man lose all control for you — submitting himself to your pussy.
his cum spreads all throughout your insides, coating your walls a sticky white. with your orgasms coinciding, your convulsing pussy fucks him through his high until you've milked him dry of every last drop.
that's when he relaxes in his chair, taking shallow breaths in sync with yours, with your face buried into the crook of his neck. your body melts lazily into his, and one of his hands slowly move from your ass to trace your spine. his cock is still fit snug inside you but you like it that way, and so did he.
"now, for every week you go without committing any crimes, i will take you in a new position. how does that sound, my dear?" he asks through huffs.
"i won't do anything bad ever again." you reply without an ounce of hesitancy.
sir nighteye chuckles lowly, and caresses your lower back, "perfect."
You’d been trying to bring it up for weeks. Half-formed sentences, awkward hesitations, fingers fidgeting with your sleeves. Every time you got close to saying it, you’d chicken out, cheeks flushed, stomach twisting with nerves. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you didn’t know how he would feel about your little confession.
The night you finally got the courage to ask your stomach was tight with nerves. “Tamaki… can I ask you something?” He looked up at you with a quiet curiosity in his eyes, “Of course, you know you can.” You tried to hold his gaze but failed, eyes flickering to your fidgeting hands, “well it… it’s about something I’d like to try with you.” Your blush gave away the intention behind your words causing a mirrored blush to appear on Tamaki’s cheeks, “oh… ohh. Um… okay.”
“It’s kind of weird, and I don’t want you to freak out, and if you find it weird or you’re not into it that’s okay!” your ramblings are cut short as Tamaki takes your hand in his trying his best to be encouraging, “you can tell me and I’ll do my best not to freak out,” he smiled at you softly. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you hesitantly continued, “well… I’ve been thinking about what your quirk lets you do when you eat Takoyaki…” his eyes widened slightly and you rushed to get the rest out before he could say anything, “…and I was wondering if maybe you’d want to try using your tentacles. With me. While we… you know,” you knew your face was red at this point as you screwed your eyes shut not wanting to see his face or his reaction to your request.
After a moment of silence you slowly peeked up at him to see him eyes wide, mouth slightly agape but nodding, he finally spoke after another moment, “you know I’d do anything for you.”
So that’s how you ended up here.
You threw your head back in ecstasy as another one of Tamaki’s tentacles latched onto your pert nipple. One of his hands caressing your chest and upper body while the other was wrapped around you below. The upper hand had both your tits in a firm grip while it toyed with your nipples, both pleasure and pain coursing through your body at the sensation. While his lower hand had your body quaking.
A tentacle wrapped around each thigh keeping you spread and still, as another plunged deeply into your core. The sound of your slick hole being pounded and your cries were the only sounds filling the room. You arched as another tentacle brushed against your clit, gently almost teasingly, “you’re so beautiful like this,” Tamaki said so softly, so sweetly. It was too much, his words, his caresses, feeling him fill you so completely. Tears started to form at the corners of your eyes as you let out a soft whimper, taking in a shallow broken breath.
You felt Tamaki still, “sweetheart what’s wrong?” The panic rising in his voice, “did I hurt you?” But before he could retreat you were shaking your head tears slowly slipping down your face, “please… don’t stop Tamaki… feels so good, so full.” Tamaki’s eyes widened, his voice filled with awe, “you… you’re really into this aren’t you?” You nod frantically as you feel the pressure inside you building, “oh god Tama, I can’t… I need… please, please,” you don’t even know what you were asking for as his tentacle picked up the pace again pumping inside you, the squelch of your pussy clenching around him as you got closer and closer to the edge.
“So beautiful,” your gaze flickered towards Tamaki at the sound of his voice. His eyes blown wide, lip wavering as one of his tentacles was wrapped around his cock pumping him in time with the tentacle that was plunged deep inside you. Lust thick in his eyes as he held your gaze while keeping up his ministrations. He could feel you getting closer to the edge, feeling the way your pussy was trying to milk his tentacle, trying to suck it in deeper. The tentacle that was brushing your clit moved more now, faster, with more purpose. Pressing down on your nub with precise movements, white flashes across your gaze, back arching off the bed as you came, screaming Tamaki’s name. It was enough to send Tamaki over the edge, a long whine followed by heavy panting as he looked down at your thighs now painted white from his cum. You looked so fucked out of your mind and stuffed.
Let’s pretend he wasn’t like…writhing in pain on the floor of a cave/completely under afo’s control in this part ☺️
Tag: @scentofanangel @bzziestbee @focus-on-m3
Tags: fem!reader, like RIGHT before the war part, but like after the prison breaks, rough sex, cumming inside, kinda soft tomura?, he wants u so fucking bad
—
Yeah, he has ‘such a nice dick’, and he’s so ‘cute’, and he’s so…whatever. And he’s also fucking EVIL and RUINED MY LIFE.
Well, that’s what you’re thinking right now, anyways. But it’s hard to still look back on that hookup in a good light when you’re trudging through back alleys and hiding from villains and fighting over scraps on the way to a shelter. It’s even harder not to still catch yourself daydreaming about that night all those months ago. The hardest part is pretending that it doesn’t turn you on knowing you slept with the biggest villain in the country.
Tomura Shigaraki: Still the most interesting dick of your life…and now quite possibly the end of it.
You shiver in the cold as you move through the shadows, keeping a constant eye out while still mentally complaining.
Stupid Tomura, with his stupid League, and his stupid plans, and his stupid idea to break into every fucking prison in the world it seems like…
You have no idea if you’re really allowed to silently curse him like this, but you tell yourself you do. I mean, you took the guys virginity. You should be allowed to complain about his terrorist attacks, right?
…and his stupid good looks, and his stupid hair, and his stupid voice, and-
“Little late to be out, isn’t it?”
You freeze. Like, fully freeze in your tracks, all stiff, eyes wide, your heart plummeting to your feet.
Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuck-
This is exactly what you were scared of- getting cornered by some random man when literally no one is around to help-
THUD
Did he just land behind you-?
God, move, idiot!
Move, move-!
“Dangerous times…Especially for a pretty girl like you.”
Finally, you get yourself to move. But do you even try to run away?
No.
You whip around, obviously terrified as you stumble back.
But you freeze again, because…this isn’t some ‘random guy’. That doesn’t mean you’re happy to see him, though.
“…T-Tomura-?”
Shigaraki grins as you look at him, all scared and skittish and…still fucking pretty, unfortunately.
You stare at him in utter shock, stuck between deciding if this is better or worse than running into a random guy. But, well…he’s certainly more attractive than any random man you’ve ever seen.
He’s really…grown up, for lack of a better term. You still don’t pay much attention to the news, so you have no idea when this happened, but damn. Longer white hair than before, definitely much more built than before, and there’s something more…confident than before.
Wait- shit- none of that is important right now-!
“You’re quiet.” Shigaraki teases lowly, starting towards with slow, confident strides. “What happened? You’re not teasing…or joking…or flirting…Are you scared now?”
You stumble back again, further this time as he gets closer.
Fuck. What does he want? How did he even find you? Was he looking for you? Why?-
Your back hits a wall, and you squeak in surprise. Shigaraki chuckles lowly, continuing to get closer and closer and closer until he’s looming a few feet from where you’re cowering against the wall. Practically trembling with fear, you flinch a little as he takes one more step forward and plants a hand beside your head.
“Because you finally know who I am? Or…” He leans in a bit closer, snickering at the way your eyes brim with tears. “…Something else?”
Shivering as another cold wind blows, and because you’re fucking terrified, you stay completely still. God knows you want to run, or fight, or tell him off, or something, but…he’s terrifying now. It’s strange to think that just a few months ago he passed out from how well you rode his dick.
Frowning now at your lack of reaction, Shigaraki looks at you flatly. Really, he was expecting some of that humor or sass that you had the first time. He can’t blame you for being scared this time, though.
“C’mon.” He grumbles, as if disappointed. “Seriously. Do something.”
You blink in shock and confusion. You’d expected to be dead by now, but he’s acting like you two are longtime friends- like you have no reason to hesitate.
“I-I-…” You stammer for a moment, pressing back further against the wall but not taking your eyes off him. “Aren’t you-…a-aren’t you gonna k-kill me, or s-something?”
Shigaraki blinks once, his eyes widening just slightly…before he smiles again. This time, it’s slightly less menacing and a touch more genuinely amused.
“Kill you?” He chuckles lightly, looking at you like you’re an idiot. “Why would I do that?”
You blink in confusion again, your body relaxing just slightly as he implies he won’t murder you. “Because…B-because that’s…what y-you do…?”
“That’s ‘what I do’?” He rolls his eyes at your less than eloquent response, getting more amused by the second. “I guess that’s true…But it’s not like I kill everyone I see. Most of the time there’s a reason.”
Yeah, that’s not exactly comforting. But still… “So…you don’t have a reason for m-me?”
Shigaraki watches your eyes go all big and hopeful, and he holds back a little groan. He missed that look- although before it was when you were practically throwing yourself at him in the bar, not trying to decipher whether he’s about to kill you or not. In the end, he shakes his head a little, and you take a little breath of relief.
Eyes casting downward now, you try to center yourself. God, that was really terrifying for a second. But now that you’re semi-reassured, you can actually focus…focus on him, that is. Because damn, he looks even better up close.
“So, um…” You start quietly, shifting your feet a little but staying still where he’s pinned you. “…W-what do you want?”
Shigaraki doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning over the part of your face he can see with your chin tucked like that. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to run into you.” He states bluntly, reaching out with his free hand and tipping your chin up. “…But I’m not complaining.”
Fuck, are you actually blushing?
Well…he’s looking at you like that. And his hand is gentle even if you still flinched a little. And his voice is almost more relaxed now, a nice rumble that sends little sparks down your spine.
Swallowing lightly, you keep eye contact with him even though your heart stutters painfully in your chest. “…Doesn’t answer my question.”
Chuckling now, Shigaraki runs a thumb over your lip and relishes the way it makes you shiver. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a war coming. I’d like to feel something good before that.”
Your skin tingles where his own had touched your bottom lip, your cheeks flushing at his implication. Your mouth runs dry in shock, your lips parting uselessly. He wants to sleep with you again? Right now? Right here? After everything he’s done? After all the ways he’s indirectly impacted your life? Is he crazy?
Well, duh. Yeah.
But more importantly, “A-Are you gonna kill me if I say no…?”
Shigaraki pauses for a second, then frowns as if he can’t believe you’d think that. But really, what else could you think about him?
“No.” He states firmly, like it’s obvious. “How heartless do you think I am?”
Immediately, your voice turns just a bit sharper, still cautious but now just a bit annoyed by the way he’s acting. “I-…Well, you’re not exactly known f-for being some great guy-.”
He grins again, immediately pleased with that flicker of fire in you that drew him to you in the first place. Well, actually, it annoyed the hell out of him the first time. But now, he’s craving it.
“True.” Shigaraki concedes, but he only leans in closer. “But did I really give you that impression last time?”
Flashbacks of ‘last time’ play in your mind as he says it. God, he was such a cute loser back then, all whimpering and sensitive and damn near crying under you. And he’d called you an angel, hadn’t he? What was that about?
“I-I guess not…” You mutter, glancing to the side as your cheeks heat up even more.
“Hm…” Shigaraki chuckles quietly in response, sliding his hand down and loosely draping his fingers around your throat. “So what’s it gonna be? I promise I won’t hurt you either way.”
You flinch as he grabs your throat, even if it’s loosely, eyes darting back up to his. Fuck, you can’t believe this- the situation or the fact that you actually trust him. Well, you don’t fully believe you trust him, but you’re definitely turned on, so that means you must trust him at least a little, right?-
“Y-yes.”
Your own voice surprises you, quiet and trembling but so sure.
Shigaraki blinks once, as if it surprised him too. “…Yeah?”
Lips parting uselessly, you stare at him. God, why had you said that without thinking it through first? He’s a murderer- a terrorist- like, evil incarnate. Your eyes flicker down, raking over what exactly you’re working with this time. Fuck…no use denying it anymore.
He’s awful. Horrible, even. But he’s hot. And you want him.
You nod, subtly but true. He feels your throat constrict lightly under his thumb as you swallow softly. Then, your lashes flutter a little as you slowly trail your eyes back up to his.
“…Y-yeah…”
The smirk that forms on his lips sends a shiver down your spine, but your thighs clench together like he’s touching you already.
“Good.”
—
“T-Tomura- mmph!- hah-!”
Tomura’s relentless this time, like he’s seriously trying to make it count unless it’s his last. He’d dragged you into some abandoned apartment and practically threw you down on the bed.
“Doing more this time.” He’d grunted out while stripping off his shirt and undoing his pants.
You’d watched with wide eyes, only feeling your panties getting wetter and wetter under his terrifying gaze.
Then, Tomura had damn near killed you.
He’d fingered you until you fucking squirted, then ate you out like he hasn’t eaten in months. It was so good you were left shaking on some random persons mattress, clinging to him, stars in your eyes, and a certain feeling making your heart stutter.
When you’d breathlessly asked if he’d been practicing since last time, he shook his head. “Researching.” Is all he said, grinning like a maniac…whatever that means.
Now, he’s putting all that ‘research’ to good use as he nails you to the mattress. Like, seriously, the entire frame shakes with every devastating thrust he gives your sopping pussy while his hands pin your hips to the bed.
It’s all you can do not to absolutely fall out, your fingernails literally carving lines in his back and arms that get healed immediately, your throat already sore from moaning so much for him. He’s just so fucking rough- so mean- it gives you whiplash. Last time he was barely even able to lift his head, and now he’s the one ruining you.
“Ah- Fuck- Feels good- ngh!” Tomura grits lowly, sending ripples of pleasure down your spine.
You can only whine in response, clamping down on him as he delivers a harsh thrust to your cervix. He grins down at you, nearly growling as you claw down his chest.
Tomura fucking loves that look on your face. Your lips all wet with drool and forming a little ‘o’, your cheeks burning red, your eyebrows pitched up in pleasure, your eyes are all dewey and big. You’re the very picture of pure, overwhelming bliss.
And you’re just so…
“Adorable…”
The way he growls it out has you shivering under him, your eyes screwing shut as your heart palpates. He reaches up with one hand to roughly grab your jaw, running a thumb over your slick bottom lip before slipping between them. You moan shakily, fluttering your lashes open again as you wrap your lips around his thumb and suck obediently.
“Mm- Fuck, yeah-.” Tomura’s practically giddy about your obedience, rewarding you with thrusts that make your ears ring. “Fuckin’ like that, d-don’t you?”
You squeal around his thumb, making a complete mess as you drool and nod. Slick gushes out of you as your thighs tremble and shake, getting closer and closer to another orgasm. He feels it, of course- the rhythmic clenching of your pussy and the accumulating wetness between your bodies.
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth but replaces it with his middle and ring finger, prodding around in your slippery mouth while his other hand splays over your lower stomach to pin you down.
“Gettin’ close, aren’t you?” He snickers at the way you gag on his fingers, his hips snapping into you sharply. “Y’like- ngh- fucking me?”
You nod again, quicker this time as you unconsciously bite at his fingers. Tomura grunts lightly and pulls his fingers out only to grab your throat, gripping tight enough to make your breath stutter. Eyes blowing wide, your voice pitches high as you scramble to grab at his solid wrist.
“Because of who I-I am?- ngh-” He growls, leaning down closer as his thrusts get heavier. “Like fucking a-a villain like me? Huh?”
Well, you liked him before you found out. But you can’t lie and say that knowing who he is and what he’s done doesn’t make it even better for you right now.
So you nod, clawing at his wrist as you gasp for air and tear up. Your pussy trembles around his cock, your hips starting to squirm even as he holds them still by pressing down harder. You moan brokenly as his hand puts more pressure on your lower tummy, only exemplifying the feeling of his cock bruising your insides.
“Y-yes-!” You gasp out without really thinking, so close to the edge that you can’t stop yourself from babbling. “I-I love it!- MM!- I l-love that you’re- ah!- s-scary- ‘nd I-I w-went back even after I f-found out- ngh!- a-and I th-think ‘bout you all the t-time- a-ah!- and- and- mmph-!”
Tomura cuts off your babbling by pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss, all demanding and sloppy and dirty. He lets go of your throat just to reach down and rub your clit, swallowing your loud moans and squeals.
Honestly, he only did it because he was gonna cum if you kept talking like that. Just the thought of you thinking about him as much as he thought about you- missing him- touching yourself to memories of him- going back to the damn bar for him? He groans roughly against your lips as pleasure zings up his spine, his brain going into overdrive of how much sooner he could’ve done this if he’d actually looked for you.
Your hands reach up into his long hair and tug, keeping him in place with the rest of your depleting strength. And when your orgasm finally hits? You damn near rip his hair out.
You cry against his lips so shakily, your voice cracking and breaking with how intense it is. Convulsing under him, you clamp down and absolutely soak his cock with the hardest orgasm of your life. It’s so good your ears ring and your toes go numb- so good you don’t even notice when he pulls away from the kiss just to watch your face.
“Mmm- that’s it-.” Tomura grunts, rolling his hips slowly as he works you through it, his eyes glued to your messed-up expression. “G-good fuckin’ girl…”
Fuck, you’re too damn cute under him right now. He groans as his cock throbs, spilling another load of precum into you. Your hands are shaking where they cling to his hair, your eyes screwed shut but leaking tears, your lips wet with drool and trembling with little whimpers. He’s not usually one for soft feelings, and it’s especially odd after the way he’s been wrecking you…but Tomura can appreciate the beautiful picture you make right now.
…Not for long, though.
He stops his thrusts just for a moment, listening to you whine as your eyes flutter open to look at him with dazed, vulnerable curiosity. Tomura just smirks down at you, pulling your hands from his hair and instead lacing his fingers with yours as he pins your hands to the mattress. When he leans down, getting nice and close to your ear, it feels like the whole world shrinks to just your own little bubble with him.
“…My turn.”
You swallow lightly at his low purr, your hands gripping his tightly. Ever so slowly, he begins to pull out, his lips brushing over the marks he’s already bitten into your neck. Without thinking, you turn your head and nuzzle lightly his cheek, moaning softly as just his tip stays lodged inside you. Tomura pauses for a second with his tip twitching inside you, his eyes closing as he savors the feeling of your soft skin rubbing against his.
Then, just as suddenly, he snaps back in.
If he was relentless before, he’s ruthless now. It’s clear he’s only focused on getting himself off now, ramming into you with harsh, sharp thrusts and biting hard at your neck.
You immediately cry and squirm under him, so sensitive from how much he’s ruined you already. Your hands tug desperately at his, yearning to actually onto him, but he holds fast. The bed under you both rattles and slams against the wall with his strong thrusts, the frame feeling rickety at best.
Tomura sounds like a damn animal as he ruts into you, groaning and growling against the skin he sinks his teeth into. Eyes closed, all he’s focusing on is the feeling of you. The sound of you. The way you let him in and cry his name. God, it’s euphoric.
But you can hardly keep up anymore. Not after everything. You can’t keep up with his stamina- can barely hear anymore, can barely see, your legs are numb, and your mind is fully scrambled. All you can do is call his name, loud and high-pitched and entirely too blissful for anyone to ever say the name of a mass murderer.
Thrusts getting erratic now, Tomura nearly snarls against you, finally letting go of your hands to wrap one arm under your waist and fist one hand in the sheets. He crushes you into his body as he delivers two more harsh thrusts, his teeth breaking skin as his orgasm hits hard.
A guttural groan rumbles from his chest, broken and pitching higher at the end. He shoves as far into you as possible, shooting copious amounts of cum into you and pushing it in further with little jerks of his hips. The hand on your waist easily presses dark bruises into your skin, while the other accidentally comes down fully on the bed and decays it in less than a second.
Your exhausted body can barely comprehend the feeling of him filling you up, your mewl breaking off into a weak cry as your nails rake down his back. But when the bed gives out under you and you hit the floor…you’re out.
Fully.
Tomura grunts in frustration at his quirk even as he comes down from his orgasm, panting hard as he pulls away from your neck to apologize…only to find you totally unconscious. Blinking a few times in surprise at how the tables have turned this time, he gazes down at you, mostly just making sure you’re okay.
Once he’s confirmed you’re still breathing, Tomura sighs lowly and eases out of you. Then, with a gentleness that surprises himself, he reaches up and brushes a few tears off your cheeks. Your skin is burning hot but so soft under his fingers, your expression finally relaxing into something peaceful that makes his chest clench. Stupid pretty girl…
“Idiot…Wanted to talk to you more…”
—
Air rushing by.
That’s all you remember. On your skin, in your ears…but someone was holding you, weren’t they?
Then, coldness as you were set down somewhere.
Warmth followed soon after, like you were wrapped in a blanket or sweater.
Finally, a voice. Low, rough, and hard to hear through the darkness of unconsciousness.
“…You really must be an angel…”
—
You wake up with a start. Not in a random apartment, not on the street, but in a…hospital room? Looking down, you’re also not naked. No, someone must’ve dressed you again…and put their own hoodie on you? Tired and sore, you sit up and look around for a clue as to where you are.
A nurse rushes in just then to check on you, and she tells you everything she knows.
You’re at the UA evacuation site, and you were just…left outside the gates? Without a trace?
You blink in confusion, reaching up to rub a sore spot on your neck, only to find it bandaged. Suddenly, the memories rush back all at once. Just as quickly, your face turns red and your expression twists in embarrassment.
When the nurse asks what’s wrong, you just shake your head. “N-nothing…”
Your hands lower to the hoodie he must’ve pulled onto you, fisting lightly in the soft material. Your heart flutters as much as it aches- yearning and guilt evening out on your conscience.
“I-I just…know who brought me here…” You admit softly, ducking your face a little more into the hoodie. “Guess he couldn’t come with…”
a/n; for that one anon who wanted small tits worship + toji!!!
you’d always been a little self conscious about your chest. not insecure, not exactly—just aware. your shirts didn’t cling in the right places, bras were mostly unnecessary, and no one had ever really made a big deal of it. not until him.
not until toji, advocates for any size tits, fushiguro.
"cute little things," he muttered the first time he got your shirt off, palms heavy and warm against your ribcage, thumbs grazing the soft swell of your tits. and when he leaned in, mouth dragging over your sternum, teeth barely grazing the curve under your left nipple, you almost gasped.
"you're jok—ah," you started, but his tongue cut off the rest.
he looked up at you from between them, lips slick, eyes half lidded with that hungry, lazy stare of his. "you think i’m kidding?"
you didn’t answer. couldn't, really. not with the way he was mouthing at you, hands gripping your waist like you might try to squirm away. not that you would. not when he looked that serious about it.
toji had a way of making you feel like the only body in the room, even if it was just the two of you. big hands, bigger shoulders, that wide scarred chest pressing you down into the mattress - just like he could brand you with it. every inch of you, he gave attention to—but your tits? he worshipped the fuck out of them.
he kissed them like they were something holy. slow, messy licks around your nipples, teasing and wet. then he’d suckle, lazy at first, then rougher when he felt your thighs twitch. he’d nudge them together, even when it barely made a valley between them, and shove his face in like they were bigger than they were.
he wanted to disappear in them forever.
“don’t need ‘em big,” he grunted once, biting just below your nipple, pulling back when you whined. “just need ‘em soft. look at this. fuck—” he squeezed them together with both hands, thumbs rubbing your nipples until they were sore. “—could spend hours here.”
you believed him. you really did. especially when he did.
his mouth didn’t stop. he was drunk on you—kissing down the slope of your chest, dragging his teeth over every inch, he really did appreciate your prettiness. always muttering shit like fuckin’ perfect and so good for me right into your sternum, as if your tits were listening.
and you? god. your whole body buzzed. not even from the sex—he hadn’t even gotten that far half the time. it was the way he looked up at you, how focused he got when he had you spread out beneath him, your chest flushed, marked up, and shiny from his mouth.
"lay back," he whispers, voice low and gravelly, eyes trained on your bare skin, he was probably already thinking about he was going to do with your stunning body.
you listened. always did.
"arms up."
you’d do that too. he liked the way it stretched you out, made you arch a little. gave him more room to touch. his tongue would find your nipple again, and you’d let out a little noise, hips shifting under him—but he’d ignore it and push you down.
he didn’t rush. didn’t even touch you lower until your nipples were red and puffy, your chest wet with saliva. until you were whining, fingers twitching in the sheets, desperate to pull him closer or push him down.
"you in a hurry, baby?" toji murmurs, thumb teasing the underside of your boob. “i’m not.”
he'd pin your wrists above your head and go back to sucking bruises over your ribs, working slow, like he had all fucking night. and sometimes? he did. he’d spend forever just playing with your chest, palms warm and firm, lips working your skin. he really was trying to memorize the taste of you.
"are you sure, my love?" nanami murmurs against your lips, two fingers beneath your panties circling your clit. “we can stop at any time. just say the word."
after weeks of patience and careful dilation, you finally felt ready again. you knew there would be pain and discomfort, but you also knew your husband would be right there with you, supporting you every step of the way.
"i’m ready, i want you — please," you pant softly against nanami’s lips, hips bucking against his hand desperately.
he smiles down at you gently before hooking his fingers under your panties, slowly pulling them down and off you.
you stare up at him needily as he removes the rest of his own clothes, biting your lip impatiently as your eyes roam over his sculpted torso.
his thick, aching cock slaps against his stomach as he releases it from his boxers, a bead of pre forming at his tip. “nice and slow," he purrs, leaning back over you.
you pump his cock a few times with your hand, then begin dragging his tip through your folds, moaning as it glides over your clit.
nanami hisses at the contact, placing one large hand on your hip, thumb rubbing soothing, reassuring circles over it.
your breath hitches as his thick tip catches at your entrance, nerves beginning to kick in.
"it’s okay, you’re doing so well. my sweet girl," nanami whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, “m’ready, you can start,” you say, resting your forehead against his.
"take a deep breath for me, darling. that’s it," he coos, beginning to slowly push in, halting once he’d given you an inch.
you inhale steadily, letting yourself feel him, relaxing your body just like you’d practiced. you whimper in discomfort, breathing through the aching pressure, letting him slowly open you up.
“talk to me, sweetheart,” he says, voice low and steady. "how does it feel?"
you exhale, threading your fingers through the blonde strands at the nape of his neck. "a little painful, but think i can— nmmgh — take more."
nanami kisses you again, soft and sweet, slowly feeding you another inch. "that’s it, keep breathing. you’re taking me so well," he coos, reaching between your bodies to rub your clit again in unhurried circles.
he pays extra attention to every expression, every whimper, continuing to rock forward between long pauses, continuing to check if you’re okay.
eventually, he bottoms out, stuffed deep inside of you, sweat beading on his forehead from holding back.
the sting fades into a dull throb, pleasure gradually taking over. “kento, m-move, please," you moan breathily, desperate for your husband to finally make love to you again.
"i love you, my beautiful wife,” he pants, begging to roll his hips against yours, moans beginning to spill out of both of you.
it was careful, deep — passionate. your pain was soon long forgotten, almost as if it never existed.
you lock your legs around his waist, mewling so sweetly as he grinds against you in deep circles that pressed against that sensitive spot inside you. “o-oh my god — feels s’good."
you husbands moans were almost as loud and frequent as yours, each one a reminder of how much he’d missed you, how long it’d been since he was buried inside his perfect wife.
“don’t stop, mgnhhh — so c-close," you plead, hips meeting his. nanami rewards you with a deeper stroke, angling his hips just right, “look at me when you come, my love,” he whispers, “i want to see you.”
with a few more deep, passionate thrusts, you come undone, gummy walls fluttering around his his thick cock. nanami groans, burying his face in your neck. “hah — would you like me to pull out?”
you shake your head feverishly, lost in a perfect haze of overwhelming pleasure and adoration. his hips stutter, losing their perfect rhythm as he releases his thick load into your cunt with a low, shuddering moan.
he stays buried within you afterwards, both of you trembling and panting. he peppers soft kisses to your damp forehead, your cheeks, your lips, each one more tender than the last.
“are you alright, my love?” he asks gently.
you were more than alright, still full with your husbands dick and warm load, boneless below him.
"yeah, love you," you mumble, recovering a loving smile in response.
A/N; hope this is okay! it lowkey took so long and i don’t write much nanami but praying you / any other girlies w vaginismus enjoy it <3
✦ . Note: Got it out as quickly as I could, hope you enjoy! In my mind, Jack is a confident, talkative guy when he's drunk, so take that how you will, lol.
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As the bottle whipped around on the coffee table, you quickly realized you were neither drunk nor high enough to deal with the embarrassment you were about to face.
It wobbled, catching on an ashtray on the edge of the space, before it slowed from one face, to another, then—
Jack.
You would’ve thought a gaggle of crows had just found their way into the living room at the sound that erupted from the corner of the room.
Natalie and Toby lost it.
Natalie slapped the back of Jack’s head with a loud smack while Toby howled, kicking his leg higher over Jack’s thigh as if he needed the extra support to keep from falling over laughing. Jack didn’t look the least bit impressed. He sat there between them on the loveseat pushed into the corner, his absent sockets pointed blankly at the bottle, its tip completely motionless and aimed right at him.
You felt a pit form deep in your stomach.
Being locked in a closet with the resident cannibal suddenly felt a lot less like a fun party game and a lot more like a very bad idea.
People started whooping and cheering, especially Toby and Natalie, who were still losing their minds. Jack slowly stood up, shrugging both of them off like they weighed nothing. They tumbled dramatically into the arms of the loveseat, still cracking up and clutching their ribs as they reached for each other.
“Good luck, big guy,” Natalie wheezed, wiping tears from her good eye. “You’re gonna die in there.”
Toby pointed at you with one shaky hand, laughing so hard he could hardly sit up right. “Don’t let him eat you!”
You glanced around the room, hoping for even a scrap of mercy, but everyone else was either grimacing in sympathy or grinning like this was the funniest thing they’d seen all night. Jeff and Ben looked especially pleased with themselves.
Jack rounded the coffee table without so much as a word. His tall frame cast a long shadow over you as he came to a stop right in front, staring down with his blank gaze. The black voids of his eyes seemed to swallow the light from the lights overhead. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Until, “C’mon.”
You nodded quickly and pushed yourself up from the floor, legs a little unsteady. Jack turned without another word and started down the hallway. You followed a few steps behind him, fingers picking nervously at the hem of your shirt. The moment you left the living room, you heard Jeff yell over the noise, “Ben. Music.”
The music rushed in seconds later—loud, gritty rock blasting through the busted speakers twice as loud as before, the bass rattling the old floorboards under your feet.
The walk down the hall felt longer than it should have. Jack’s broad shoulders took up most of the space, his steps quiet and even like a cat. When he reached the closet door, he opened it and stepped aside.
You stopped a few feet away, looking up at him. The overhead light in the hallway cast strange shadows over his face, making the black eyesockets look even deeper.
Jack gave a nod toward the inside of the closet. One of his ears twitched against his head as he spoke, “After you.”
You swallowed, nodded back, and stepped past him. Reaching up, you tugged the pull chain. The bare bulb clicked on overhead with a hum, washing the small space in weak yellow light.
It was smaller than you remembered. Way smaller. The coats hanging on the rod ruffled against your shoulders as soon as you stepped in, and the stacks of old boxes and junk left barely enough room to stand.
Behind you, Jack had to duck. He placed one large hand on the top of the doorframe and bent down to fit through, his frame nearly filling the entire doorway before he stepped fully inside. The door pulled shut behind him.
The music outside dulled to a rumbling, muffled thump.
Now it was just the two of you.
The closet felt even tighter with Jack in it. He had to keep his head slightly lowered so it wouldn’t hit the hanging rod, his shoulders almost touching both walls. You stood with your side pressed against the coats and your back shoved against the wall, your heart beating fast as you looked up at him.
He was tall—always had been—but in the cramped little closet he seemed enormous. The light overhead cast a sickly yellow glow over him, highlighting every unsettling detail. His muted gray skin, almost ashen in places, stretched tight over sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. Pointed ears poked up through messy dark hair, occasionally flicking and twitching once he straightened as much as the low ceiling would allow. You’d occasionally catch the gleam of his sharp teeth between his lips or the flash of his claws when he moved.
He looked… bigger in here. Like the walls had shrunk just to make him seem more imposing.
And then there were his eyes.
Or rather, the places where his eyes should have been. Nothing but deep, endless black voids stared back at you. In the dim light, they looked infinite—like if you leaned in too close, you might fall forever into that darkness and never get out. It was unnerving. And strangely hard to look away from. Like all the awe and horror of a black hole swallowing a planet.
He was dressed simply in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized blue shirt that still somehow looked tight across his broad shoulders and chest. You think he tried to dress as normally as possible to offset everything else that was jarring about him… or maybe this was just all that fit his size.
You swallowed, pressing your back a little more into the adjacent wall.
“…Are you comfortable?” You fished for something to talk about.
Jack grunted, “Mhm.”
That was it.
You racked your brain for something—anything—to say, your fingers twisting together nervously.
“So… uh, how’s your night been going?” you tried.
“Fun.”
You nodded awkwardly. “The party got pretty wild after that fight, huh?”
He gave a nod.
You waited. Nothing else came. You think you could die.
You tried once more, voice a little more chipper. “You, um… you like playing these kinds of parties usually, or…?”
“Sure.”
You let out a small, nervous laugh and looked down at your hands. Talking to Jack had never been easy, but this felt like pulling teeth. The seven minutes had barely started, and the silence already felt suffocating. Jack remained perfectly still, towering over you, content to simply exist while you slowly unraveled under the weight of this encounter.
“So… what have you—”
“Calm down,” Jack cut in.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
He let out a chuckle, the sound surprisingly warm. “Your heartbeat. It’s pounding so loud it’s giving me a headache. It’s gonna explode if you keep that up.”
Your face burned. You pressed a hand to your chest without thinking, feeling the frantic thud against your palm. The embarrassment made it worse.
“I—I can’t just make it stop,” you sounded exasperated.
“Yes, you can,” Jack replied simply. “You’re just not trying.”
You rolled your eyes, letting out a short laugh. “Fuck off. Quit with the weird body shit.”
Jack tilted his head, looking at your sideways. Then, in a dry, surprisingly sarcastic tone, he said, “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize the doctor had to cut it with the ‘weird body shit.’ How many times have you come down to my room after a mission asking for painkillers again? Oh yeah… a lot.”
You stared at him, genuinely surprised. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.
“Wait… was that sarcasm? From you?”
Jack’s shoulders moved in a small shrug, the corners of his mouth pushing up just a bit.
“I have layers,” he said flatly.
“I didn’t know you could be funny.”
Jack hummed. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”
You shrug, picking at your fingers as you looked at the ground. “Maybe it’s because you’re always so quiet. People can get intimidated.”
“People are usually scared of me. Easier to stay quiet.”
The words were simple, matter-of-fact, but they landed with a strange weight in your chest that made you look back up at him.
“I’m not scared of you,” you said after a beat. It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he chuckled.
You laughed despite yourself, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “Okay, maybe a little. But not… not like that. Not the way people usually are.”
He didn’t respond right away. The music outside pulsed dully through the walls, the bass vibrating faintly under your feet. Jack shifted his stance, trying to get a little more comfortable in the tiny space, and ended up closer to you than before. The warmth coming off him was noticeable.
“You’re shaking a bit,” he said quietly.
You hadn’t even noticed. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to play it off. “It’s cold in here.” But that was a lie. If anything, it was just below sweltering.
“Semantics.” Jack hummed, clearly not believing you. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the wall, giving you a little more room—or at least trying to.
It got quiet again.
For nearly a full minute, the only sounds were the muffled thump of music outside and the occasional creak of the old floorboards whenever one of you shifted. Your mind wandered to the living room—wondering what kind of shit was unfolding now, who was winning at whatever stupid game they’d moved on to, whether Toby and Natalie were still laughing their heads off about you and Jack being stuck in here together or if someone else had voiced their opinions on it.
Then Jack spoke very matter-of-factly. “See? There it goes.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Your heart,” he said. “It’s calm now. You did it.”
You let out a small breath, almost laughing. “Ah… I didn’t really try to do it, though. It just… happened on its own.”
Jack huffed, he almost sounded amused. “Semantics.”
You rolled your eyes. “You can’t just say ‘semantics’ every time I make a point.”
“I can,” he replied, completely deadpan. “And I will.”
“Jack.”
“Semantics.”
“Jack.”
“Semantics.”
“This is very demeaning, y’know.”
“Semantics.”
You laughed at him. You were about to tease him again when Jack suddenly let out a chuckle—wait, a laugh? Not the short, dry sound he usually made with little amusement, but something warmer that bubbled up and out of his chest. His mouth curved into a wide, toothy grin, his sharp teeth gleaming like little pearls. His eyelids squeezed shut over his sockets as he laughed, and you found the sight so odd, like pulling a curtain over some void and trying to pretend it wasn’t there.
The sight caught you completely off guard. You’d never seen him smile like that—so open and genuine, almost boyish. It made something flutter oddly in your chest.
You laughed with him before you could stop yourself, surprised and delighted all at once. “What? What’s so funny?”
Jack just shook his head, still smiling big. “Nothing. You’re just… funny.”
You stared at him for a second, still processing the expression on his face. Then the question slipped out before you could think better of it.
“Jack… are you drunk?”
It was quiet again for a beat, until Jack let out a deep chuckle. The sound started delighted but quickly turned sheepish when you asked.
“No way,” you gawked, eyes wide.
Jack shrugged one broad shoulder. “Is it so obvious?”
You shook your head, still smiling. “No, it’s just… funny. This is probably the most I’ve ever heard you talk. And you’re being sarcastic? I thought, either that or you’re tripping.”
He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh with him, a little stunned. You’d never seen him like this.
“I barely even saw you drink tonight,” you added, tilting your head. “How did you manage that?”
Jack didn’t answer right away. Instead, that smile on his face shifted from one cheek to the other as he looked down at you. Something about the way he was watching you made your stomach flip with nerves again.
Then, without a word, he lifted his hands.
You watched, frozen, as his large gray hands curled under the hem of his baggy shirt. He slowly pulled it up, just high enough to expose his midsection. Your eyes widened.
God, he was built. Thick, solid muscle sat under muted gray skin, abs clearly defined and right above a deep v-line etched into his just-visible pelvis. A dark trail of hair disappeared down into the waistband of his sweatpants. You felt a little dizzy just looking at him.
But then your gaze caught on something much brighter.
Tucked neatly into the waistband of his sweatpants, wrapped all the way around his torso like some ridiculous colorful bandolier, were about two handfuls of little 99 brand alcohol shooters. Tiny bottles in every color—cherry red, lime green, coconut, orange, grape—all strapped against his skin, hidden right under his shirt.
You gawked at it.
Jack glanced down at himself, then back at you, still holding his shirt up. He must have noticed you staring at the colorful little bottles strapped around his waist, because he let out a low huff of a laugh and explained, “Toby and Nat ransacked a gas station right before the party started. They stole a whole bunch of these and hid them on me. Said it was the best way to keep them from getting passed around.”
You blinked, connecting the dots. “So that’s why you three have been glued together all night.
Jack gave a small nod. “They keep sneaking me into corners or bedrooms so nobody gets nosy and asks for any. Works pretty well.”
That also explained why Toby and Natalie had been so cuddly and hysterical—they were definitely beyond wasted by now.
“There were a lot more two hours ago,” Jack added, almost wistful.
Your eyes kept drifting between the little shooters and the hard planes of his torso, the contrast between the silly colorful bottles and his gray, muscled skin making your brain fizzle out a little.
Jack huffed. “Your heart’s loud again.”
You startled, pressing a hand to your chest like that would somehow quiet it. “Sorry. I’m trying.”
He reached down and plucked one of the shooters from his waistband—a bright cherry red one. The tiny bottle looked comically small in his large, clawed hand. He held it out toward you.
You waved him off. “I’ve had enough tonight, really.”
Jack’s mouth curved into a small, toothy smile. “As your doctor,” he said, deadpan, “it’s in your best interest that you drink this.”
You let out a surprised laugh. “As my doctor?”
A low growl rumbled in his chest, all gravely, and dark, and way more effective than it had any right to be. Every hair on your body stood on end.
“Drink it,” he said, quieter this time, but no less daunting.
You swallowed, took the little bottle from his hand, and twisted the cap off. It snapped open with a tiny clicks. You brought it to your lips and downed it in one go.
It burned.
God, it burned—like liquid fire sliding down your throat, sharp and sweet and way too strong. You winced, your eyes watering as the intense wave of alcohol hit your system. You hissed sharply as it went down, immediately tossing the empty shooter to the floor. “Jesus Christ, Jack—that tastes like rubbing alcohol.”
Jack laughed, then reached down and plucked a coconut-flavored one from his waistband, twisted the cap off, and downed it in one smooth motion. His pointed ears pressed back against his head as he swallowed, and then—to your viewing pleasure—three slick, dark tongues slipped out from between his sharp teeth. They curled around his lips, cleaning what he missed before disappearing again.
You stared, a little dazed.
The words left your mouth before your brain could convince yourself that you shouldn’t say anything.
“…Do things taste better with three tongues?”
Jack paused, considering the question like it was a serious inquiry. Then he shrugged one broad shoulder.
“It feels more intense,” he said plainly. “Like the taste is tripled. Overwhelms your senses more.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest.
Jack’s head tilted, his ears twitching a couple times. He must have heard it, because his gaze stayed fixed on you for a long second.
“…Can I taste yours?” he asked, just barely grumbling.
You blinked. “I already drank it all.”
Jack’s mouth curved into a wonky, toothy grin. The realization hit you just as the alcohol did.
Oh.
The buzz finally crashed over you in a warm, dizzy wave. Your heartbeat suddenly felt loud in your own ears, muffled like the music outside. You wondered if this was what Jack always heard when he was around people—that constant, frantic drumming. It made you wonder what else he could hear.
He shifted his weight onto the leg closest to you, leaning in until the space between you felt almost nonexistent. His shadow fell over you immediately like a stormcloud.
“You can taste mine too,” he purred.
You opened your mouth to say something—“Um—”—but your foot caught the edge of a box next to you. You stumbled, your balance completely gone.
Jack moved faster than you could see.
One strong arm hooked under your side and hauled you upright before you could even gasp, pulling you flush against his chest. Your hands instinctively grabbed onto his arms, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.
“Sorry—” you started, breathless.
Jack just grumbled. His hands settled heavy on your hips, holding you steady as he leaned down over you, his face hovering just above yours. The closeness made your heart stutter all over again.
You looked up at him, still gripping his arms. “I’m not a good kisser,” you whispered, pulling uselessly at straws to not make this seem awkward.
Jack’s response was immediate and blunt.
“Shut up,” he muttered. “Open your mouth.”
The command sent a shiver down your spine. You tilted your face up obediently, lips parting.
Jack leaned in closer. His own lips parted, and three slick, warm tongues slid out from between his sharp teeth. They brushed your lips first—tasting the area—before one of them pressed forward and licked into your lips and across your tongue.
Then he kissed you.
It was overwhelming.
The three tongues moved with a mind of their own, sliding against yours, curling around it, exploring every inch of your mouth like they were starving for the taste of you. One licked along the roof of your mouth while another tangled with your tongue, the third teasing the space inbetween. The sensation was too much and not enough all at once, your hands moving up his arms to his shoulders to pull him closer.
A soft, surprised sound escaped you, muffled against his mouth. Jack answered with a low rumble in his chest, one hand sliding up your back to keep you pressed close while the other stayed firm on your hip.
He kissed like he did everything else—completely consuming.
You tasted coconut.
Jack pressed you back until your shoulder blades met the wall, one large hand planting beside your head while the other gripped your hip and pulled your lower body forward. The angle made your back arch slightly toward him. Then his hips rolled forward, and you felt the unmistakable, heavy shape of him pressing against your hip through his sweatpants.
You gasped sharply into his mouth and pushed weakly at his chest. “Sorry—” he slurred through a mouthful of you.
But Jack only tightened his grip on your hip and tugged you closer, grinding you against him with all the lack of resistance he had. His three tongues never stopped moving, overwhelming as they curled around yours and licked along the roof of your mouth, teasing the inside of your cheeks. You tried to kiss him back the best you could, but it was hard to keep up. Your breathing quickly turned shallow, little gasps and whimpers slipping out between the messy slide of tongues.
You’d never seen Jack like this.
He was usually so quiet, so reserved and mysterious. But right now he was surprisingly blunt, almost greedy with the things he was saying. This was probably the most you’d ever heard him talk, and you couldn’t get enough of it. The low growls, the occasional muttered curse, the way his voice dropped when he felt you react to him… it was doing dangerous things to your buzzed head.
You found yourself getting lost in those endless black voids where his eyes should be. The anxiety and embarrassment that had been clawing at your chest slowly melted away, like he was draining it out of you with every pass of his tongues and every roll of his hips.
Jack pulled back just enough to speak against your lips.
“Slow your breathing down,” he murmured, almost teasing you. One of his tongues slid across your bottom lip. “Still nervous?”
You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling tighter into his shirt.
“A little,” you admitted. Then, quieter, “Don’t stop.”
Jack made a deep, pleased sound in the back of his throat. His hand on your hip squeezed harder as he leaned back in, tongues sliding back into your mouth with renewed hunger. His hips pressed forward again, letting you feel just how hard he was against you. His lips eventually left yours, trailing slowly across your cheek, then down to your jaw. When they reached your neck, he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there before dragging one of his tongues along your skin. The sensation made you shiver.
His hand left the wall and came up to the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he firmly tilted your head to the side, giving himself more room. He licked wet, warm stripes up the side of your neck, then sucked just below your ear.
You gasped, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders. A nervous flutter shot through your chest as the reality of who he was hit you again.
“…Jack,” you breathed, half-joking but not entirely, “are you gonna eat me?”
He paused, his lips still pressed against your neck, before he begins chuckling against you.
“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath causing goosebumps to rise across your shoulders. Your knees went weak instantly. A rush of heat flooded through you so fast it made you dizzy.
Jack must have felt it, because he straightened up, pulling back just enough to look down at you. One of his hands stayed on your hip, steadying you.
“You have no idea how brilliant your anatomy is,” he said plainly, as if he was just stating a fact. “I don’t mean to be crude… but your structure is perfect. I could map every inch of you with my eyes closed.”
You let out a startled laugh, your cheeks burning. The words were grotesque and strangely flattering at the same time.
“You can’t even see anyway,” you pointed out, still laughing a little. “Doesn’t that already mean you’re doing it with your eyes closed?”
“Kinda. It’s more like I’m looking through layers of thick film. Everything’s… foggy. I don’t understand it any better than you do. I stopped questioning how my body works a long time ago.”
You grinned, feeling bolder. “I don’t think you could actually do it without seeing. So what if you went to Yale, I’m still not that impressed with you.”
Jack’s hand lifted from the wall and reached above his head, his fingers finding the dangling pull chain of the overhead bulb.
You glanced up. “What are you doing?”
“So you know I’m not cheating,” he said simply.
He gave the chain a tug.
Click.
The light went out.
The closet plunged into near-total darkness, save for the thin sliver of hallway light bleeding in from under the door. For a second, your eyes struggled to adjust. And then you saw him.
In the dark, Jack was… horrifying.
The little light from beneath the door only barely outlined his silhouette, but it was enough. He looked like something that had crawled out of the woods at night—like something that you’d see in a horror movie. You understood his reputation, the stories you’ve heard from others about the things they witnessed the demon do, but you’d never faced the reality of it until now—never gotten a full picture of what he really was. His gray skin seemed to drink in what little light there was. The sharp points of his ears angled and swiveled to bumps and creaks all around. His claws curled at his sides, clenching the air as his shoulders slumped to account for the little space, his frame hanging over you. And those empty black sockets… they looked like holes punched straight through the sky. Bottomless. Ancient. You think they’d drop off like a cliff if you leaned any closer.
If you were anyone else, anywhere else—especially in the woods at night—you would’ve screamed and ran.
But you weren’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning closer.
Jack stepped in, pulling you against him with one arm around your waist. His mouth found your neck again, hot and wet as he kissed and licked along the flushed skin.
Then he began to map you. His fingers and lips moved carefully along your skin, until he pressed a kiss just beneath your ear.
“This is your Sternocleidomastoid,” he murmured against your skin, His clawed fingers traced the muscle on the other side of your neck, following the muscles shape. “Runs from here… to here.”
He dragged his mouth lower, his lips peppering your collarbone as his fingers followed.
“Clavicle,” he said, pressing lightly on the bone. “Deltoid…” His hand slid over your shoulder, squeezing the thick muscle there. “You hold so much tension right here.”
You shivered, little gasps and sighs as he massaged and traced areas. He had to maneuver you a bit, tugging you closer to his chest as he leaned down further. His fingers trailed down your side, his digits finding their way under your shirt until you felt them along your goosebumped skin. “External oblique…” His hand slid behind your back. “Latissimus dorsi…” Another kiss, lower this time, his teeth nipping as he moved. “You’re so well-built. Everything fits together so nicely.”
Jack’s hand slid down your arm until he caught your wrist. He lifted it and pressed a kiss to the thin skin on the inside, right where your pulse beat frantically.
“Right here,” he kissed it once more. “This vein runs straight to your heart.”
You thought it embarrassing how much you were shivering.
Then he moved his head lower, trailing his mouth down to your chest. He kissed you through your shirt, before slipping his hand from your back to your abdomen under your shirt. You felt shaky and exposed and way too vulnerable.
Jack’s claws curled and pressed in just a fraction at one specific point on your side, the sharp tips teetering on the idea of pressing further.
“This is your spleen,” he said with a little smile in his voice. “If I pressed any harder… I could puncture it. You’d bleed out quickly internally. It’d be so messy.”
He let the words settle in your head.
“Isn’t that interesting?” he whispered. “One little slip… and it could all be over.”
Anxiety twisted sharply in your stomach. But underneath it, something much darker and hotter stirred. Excitement. A sick, dizzy kind of thrill that made your thighs press together.
Jack noticed, because why-fucking-wouldn’t he? His claws dragged down your skin as his hand dipped lower, slipping toward the waistband of your pants. You grabbed his shoulders tightly.
“Wait—Jack, we don’t have much time,” you warned, looking to the door. “It’s gotta be almost seven minutes.”
He stopped for a second, only to chuckle to himself and lean back in, pushing a kiss against your jaw. Then, “I don’t think you really care,” he smiled. “Your body sure doesn’t.”
You whined as Jack’s hands roamed down your hips and around to your lower back, pulling you closer with a coaxing tug that said ‘I wasn’t really asking’. The heat of his palms bled through your clothes, making your skin prickle and scorch in spots.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, your nerves spiking to an all time high. “We can’t do this here—”
Jack just grinned at you. “It’s not me you’re gonna have to worry about getting us caught.”
You didn’t have time to ask what he meant.
His hands slid down and grabbed your ass, squeezing firmly. You squeaked, your hips jerking forward as you gripped the front of his shirt like a vice. Jack let out a satisfied noise and moved you exactly how he wanted—strong enough that you couldn’t have resisted even if you tried.
He spun you slightly, pressing your back more firmly against the wall as his fingers worked open the button and zipper of your jeans. The fabric gave way easily under his hands, the hem of your underwear peaking through the now-open folds. With one smooth tug, he shoved your jeans down your hips, letting them bunch around your thighs. The cool air hit your exposed skin and you shivered, trying to catch the breath that was so suddenly knocked out of you. Jack stood as straight as he could and examined his meal.
“Ah… fuck—just be fast, please,” you hissed.
Jack stood as tall as the low ceiling would allow, looking down at you by the bridge of his nose. And as if you couldn’t feel any smaller, he chuckled at you.
“You sure did give in quickly,” he hummed with satisfaction.
Embarrassment flooded your face. You squirmed against the wall, refusing to meet the place where his eyes should be. “Shut up and get on with it,” you grumbled, heat crawling up your neck.
Jack leaned in closer, planting one large hand on the wall beside your head. His other hand trailed down your side, then to your hip, before his fingertips drug over your stomach until they pressed firmly just above your pelvis. You tensed. Your hips tilted forward instinctively, fighting against the awkward bunch of your jeans still caught around your thighs.
His hand continued lower, stopping just above your clit, his palm hovering over the damp fabric of your panties. He leaned down until his mouth brushed your ear. “You’re in no place to get bossy right now,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.
Then he pressed one thick finger between your folds, right over your soaked panties. The fabric clung to you, and the moment his finger slid along your slit, it came away slick with your arousal. Jack kissed the edge of your jaw, peppering your skin, before pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies. A pleased sound escaped him.
“Well… this is a nice surprise,” and you could practically hear how pleased he was with himself.
You groaned in embarrassment and wrapped your arms tightly around his broad shoulders, burying your burning face into the side of his neck instead of letting him see you. His shirt smelled so strongly of his warm, crisp scent that it made you dizzy, but you’d rather hide from his taunting than pretend like it wasn’t turning you on something terrible. He could at least whisper it in your ear seductively, like a gentleman.
Jack’s finger continued rubbing exploratory circles over your clit, testing different pressures and angles to see how your body reacted. Every time he found a spot that made your hips roll or your breath punch out of you, he lingered there.
“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured, trying to sound plain, but the thrill in his voice gave away how much he was enjoying this. “Look at you… getting even wetter every time I touch you.”
“Shut up,” you whined, the words muffled against his shoulder.
“But I like it,” he hummed softly. “I like how your body tells me what you won’t.”
“Because you’d tease me,” you tried not to sound as pathetic as you felt.
Jack’s voice felt like somebody dragging a hot brand across your skin. “But you’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words got stuck somewhere between your pride and the heat scorching low in your belly.
Jack made a hum of acknowledgement, like he’d expected exactly that. His finger slipped beneath the edge of your panties, tugging the damp fabric to the side and exposing you to the air. You gripped him tighter, fearing if you’d let go you’d fall off the earth somehow.
He teased you—because why-fucking-wouldn’t he—dragging the pad of his finger along your folds, then higher up your inner thigh, then back again. But all so slow. He was enjoying how you tried (and failed) to stay still and not look desperate, your hips following wherever you felt his warm digits.
You pinched his shoulder in frustration.
Jack pinched you back, right on your upper thigh, “Impatient.”
“We don’t have time,” you nearly growled.
“Alright, alright,” he cooed.
Just as Jack’s fingers started honing toward your entrance, right when you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, you heard it. Heavy footsteps thumping down the hallway toward the two of you.
Your eyes flew open. Panic shot through you like ice water being poured over your head. You shoved at his chest, stumbling frantically, “Jack— I told you—”
But he didn’t stop.
Jack straightened up slightly, looking down at you like he always fucking did. His face was unreadable, but the corner of his mouth pulled up like he was amused. You tried to push his hand away, but he simply pressed forward, two thick fingers now sliding through your soaked folds and teasing at your entrance again.
“Jack—” you whisper-yelled, thinking maybe he thought you were still playing around, “we’re going to get caught—”
The footsteps grew louder, right outside the door now. Voices and laughter followed. But Jack brought his free hand up to his mouth in a little “shhh” motion, his pointer finger pressing to his lips. Then, without missing a beat, he reached beside him with that same hand and cracked the closet door open just an inch, enough for his face and upper torso to be visible while the rest of you stayed hidden against the wall and him.
Natalie and Toby’s voices burst through immediately.
“J!” Natalie called, clearly still drunk and delighted if the swimminess of her voice was any idea. “Time’s uuuup.”
Toby was laughing so hard he could barely speak, although nothing was really happening at the moment to warrant all the hysterics. “Is the poor thing still—HA—alive?”
But even still, Jack didn’t stop.
The tip of one thick finger pushed against your entrance, and before you could make a move to stop him, it pushed slowly into your aching cunt, stretching you open as you stood there, trapped between the wall and his body. You slapped a hand over your mouth instantly, eyes wide with panic and overwhelming pleasure as he sank the finger deeper, curling it lazily against your walls.
“Yeah,” Jack answered them, his voice back to its monotonous tone. “Alive. Barely.”
You clapped your hand over your mouth as his finger pumped in and out slowly, slick sounds barely masked by the loud music still blasting from the living room and their talking. Your knees trembled. Jack shifted his weight, pressing you harder against the wall to keep you upright while he casually chatted with his friends. You could see him trying to hold back a smile.
You couldn’t see Nat and Toby, but you assumed they were cheesing and standing on their tip-toes to try and get a view over Jack’s shoulder. “You didn’t actually bite ‘em, did you?”
Jack’s thumb found your clit just as a second finger tried to push in to join the first, the large digits catching on your entrance. It took shifting your hips, but they both pushed in. You could feel yourself clenching around him, having to bite down on your own hand to stay quiet.
“Not yet,” Jack finally grinned, his sharp teeth peeking out just as he curled his knuckles and massaged the inner wall of your cunt. “You shouldn’t eat big meals all at once.”
Toby wheezed with laughter. “You’re so w-weird, man. Hurry up and come out, we’re gonna d-do another round soon.”
Jack shifted his arm closer to your pelvis, the palm of his hand finding a home snug against your clit as he rubbed, curling his fingers just enough inside you to make small noises fight to escape.
“We’ll be out in a second,” Jack grinned. “We’re chatting.” The word alone sounded weird coming from his mouth, and Natalie sure didn’t miss it.
Natalie let out a loud, obnoxious laugh and slapped the wall on the other side of your head, making you jump. Jack acted like it was him adjusting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His fingers kept moving between your legs, massaging your soaked cunt as your slick dripped down over his knuckles. Your panties were absolutely ruined and you knew it.
He ignored her hysterics, turning his attention to Toby instead. “Hey. Remember those cases of beer you two stole? They’re still upstairs. Don’t forget them.”
It was like a starter pistol. Toby and Natalie immediately perked up.
Natalie cackled. “Jack, you’re a fucking genius. We’ll start another game! Take your time in there, you twoooo.”
Jack gave a small nod. “Start without us. We’ll be there soon.”
You heard their footsteps retreating down the hall, loud and clumsy with excitement, and maybe the sound of them shoving each other against the walls as they left. The second they were far enough away, Jack pulled the closet door shut, plunging you both back into near-darkness.
You immediately yanked your hand off your mouth.
“You asshole,” you hissed, smacking his chest. “I told you—I fucking told you—”
Jack just laughed, punctuating it as he curled his fingers deeper inside you. He bumped them, circling that perfect spot that made the words fizzle from your mouth.
“Did you hear that?” he leaned down next to your ear again. “They said we could take all the time we need.”
You gawked up at him, jaw dropping open in disbelief, but any protest died the moment he thrust his fingers harder, curling them just right until you felt a deep pressure in your gut. Your knees buckled. You tried to cover your mouth again, but the demon pulled your hand away.
“Jack—” you whimpered, pressing your head back against the wall to try and get some air.
He hummed in satisfaction, watching as he pumped his knuckles in and out, and in and out. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe.
Just when you were about to give in, when your nerves finally melted under the heat of his touch, Jack easily pulled his fingers out of you.
You gawked at him, all breathless and frustrated. “You’re such an asshole.”
He just kept grinning. “For somebody who keeps saying we shouldn’t be doing this… you sure do get upset when I stop giving you what you want.”
Your face burned with embarrassment. Before you could snap back at him, his hands moved to your jeans, still bunched around your thighs. He tugged them down with ease, and you helped him by shimmying and kicking them off when they caught around your sneakers. They landed in a heap somewhere beside you. Then his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties. He snapped the thin fabric against your hip, making you hiss, before dragging them down your legs. You started babbling nervously, words tumbling out without thought.
“Jack—wait, this is—this is bad—we’re gonna get caught, someone’s gonna come back and—oh my god—”
Either he didn’t hear you or he didn’t care. Your panties slid down your thighs and pooled at your ankles. You managed to kick one foot free, but the other stayed tangled as Jack placed one large hand on the inside of your thigh and pushed your legs further apart. You tried not to shiver—out of nervousness or excitement, you weren’t sure—but you gripped the bottom of your shirt like it could somehow hide you. You felt so unbearably exposed, just standing there half-naked like there weren’t people just feet away outside.
“You smell so fucking good,” he murmured. “So sweet.”
“Jack…”
“I’ve wanted to taste you for a long time,” he admitted. “Now I finally get to.”
Jack dropped to his knees in front of you.
The floorboards creaked under his weight, and you felt it in your bones—that heavy, solid presence suddenly lower, looking up at you from the most beautiful angle you think you’d ever seen. It was a terrifyingly beautiful sight. He was so tall that even on his knees he took up most of the space, his broad shoulders sitting at your waist-height. His large hands came up to grip your thighs, thumbs rubbing from your hips down toward your knees, coaxing your legs further apart. You felt like you could crawl up the wall from pure nervousness as he leaned in closer.
He started soft.
Warm lips pressed to your hip, then lower to your pelvis, peppering slow, open-mouthed kisses across every inch of soft skin he could reach. His breath was hot against you. When he finally settled fully between your thighs, his face hovered right in front of your cunt. You could feel him grinning—you could feel it.
You reached down with shaky hands, grabbing fistfuls of his messy hair to steady yourself. “Jack… please be easy,” you whispered.
He tilted his head up. “What are you so afraid of?” His lips brushed your inner thigh as he spoke, and you had to swallow your nerves.
“Your teeth…”
Jack pulled back just enough to show them off—the sharp, gleaming points smiling up at you. Then, just to be funny, he snapped his teeth together right in front of your cunt, the clack making you jump.
He chuckled. “You’re alright. I won’t hurt you.”
Before you could say anything else, Jack leaned in fully. He pressed a soft kiss just above your clit, his nose brushing against your skin. Then his mouth disappeared between your legs.
“I won’t hurt you a bit.”
The first touch of his tongue made you melt.
One thick, warm, wet tongue pushed slowly between your folds, dragging up through your slick heat and soaking in the taste. The feeling was overwhelming—hotter and more intense than you expected. He groaned at the first taste, the vibration rolling straight through your core as he licked again, like he was tasting something he’d been starving for.
Your grip tightened in his hair, a broken whimper slipping from your lips as your head fell back against the wall.
Jack’s hands slid around the backs of your thighs, gripping firmly as he angled your hips forward, opening you up even more for him. He pressed his face deeper between your legs and licked a broad stripe through your folds, dragging the flat of his warm tongue right over your clit.
It felt like a thick, wet tentacle sliding against you, like it had a mind of its own. His spit coated your cunt in a ridiculous amount, dripping down your thighs and making everything messy and obscene. For someone so stoic and quiet in his everyday, Jack was suddenly a mouthful of grunts and hungry groans against your skin. His pointed ears fluttered against the sides of his head with every lick, and his claws tugged and gripped against your thighs like he couldn’t pull you close enough.
You felt your resolve completely dissolve.
Your bones went soft, your legs relaxing as you started grinding against his tongue, chasing the pleasure with desperate rolls of your hips. Jack groaned deeply in response like he was approving the movements.
“Mhhm…” you whimpered, trying to curb your embarrassment to let him hear you. “Feels so good, Jack… feels really good—”
He made an appreciative sound and nudged the tip of his tongue against your entrance. It took some effort, but his fingers had done most of the hard work of stretching you, so your eyes rolled deliciously as his tongue breached your entrance and nudged its way inside your cunt. His tongue was longer and thicker than his fingers had been. It slid into your soaked heat with ease, warm and gummy from how wet you already were, reaching deeper than anything had before. You whined loudly, your hips jerking as he began to fuck you with it with thrusts that curled and stroked inside you.
Jack groaned as your hands gripped his messy hair, his eyelids slowly closing over those dark abysses you keep getting lost in.
But Jack was completely lost in you—eating you like a starving man, grunting and growling against your cunt while his claws dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open for his mouth. Every time you clenched around his tongue he made a pleased noise and pushed even deeper than before.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue the moment you felt it. A second tongue nudged insistently against your full entrance, probing and pushing alongside the first. It tried to slip in, but the angle was tight. You shifted your hips, trying to help, but Jack made an impatient growl and moved.
One of his large hands slid down the back of your thigh, hooked under your knee, and lifted it smoothly. He pushed your leg up and outward, spreading you open even wider before resting your knee over his shoulder. The new position left you imbalanced, and you had to halfway hold onto the wall and him for support.
But that was all the room he needed.
The second tongue nestled in alongside the first with a lewd plunge. You groaned loudly, your head falling to your shoulder as you felt too dazed to stand up straight. Two thick, warm tongues filled your cunt, pushing and pulling, curling and stroking against your walls in a messy, uncoordinated rhythm that somehow felt even better because of it.
“Fuck—Jack—” you whimpered, your voice breaking on every word.
He groaned in response, letting you know it felt good for him too. His claws dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as he held your leg in place beside his head. The sensation was insane. You felt so impossibly full, every inch of your cunt being claimed by him. Spit and your own wetness dripped down your thighs and his chin as his tongues worked deeper, twisting and exploring like they were trying to map every part of you from the inside.
You felt it before you could even process it—before you’d even had time to process the second one—a third tongue slipped from between his lips, sliding wetly between the other two. It nudged right up against your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing torturously well.
A violent shiver ripped through you. Your hands flew from his hair to his ears, your fingers curling around the pointed tips to get some semblance of stability.
Jack shuddered. His whole body jolted like he’d been shocked. His ears pinned flat against his head for a second before flicking wildly under your touch. The reaction was so sudden and strong that you both froze for half a heartbeat.
Then, cautiously, you started rubbing them.
Your thumbs stroked over the sensitive tips and along the soft lobes, gently feeling his cat-like ears. He tried his best to keep licking you, but kept getting caught on stiff moans.
“Jack…” you gasped. “Umm… Does that feel good?”
He nodded against you, jaw and chin bumping messily into your soaked folds. He was taking deep, loud breaths through his nose, exhaling against you. Then the most unexpected sound rumbled out of his chest.
A low, rumbling purr.
At first you thought it was just your own nerves buzzing in your head, but no—you could feel it. The vibration rolled through his chest and straight into your bones, all warm and constant, making your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut.
“Oh my god—” you moaned, your mouth falling open as the sensations intensified. It felt obscene, like his entire body was vibrating against your most sensitive places and melting your mind.
Jack was losing himself, too. His purring grew louder, deeper, as you kept stroking and rubbing his ears. His tongues moved with renewed hunger—two thrusting and curling inside you while the third flicked and sucked messily at your clit. It seemed as if he was wholly content on drowning himself in you.
You were babbling now, open-mouthed and shameless. “Fuck—Jack, that feels—hah—oh god—I can’t—please—”
The pressure built fast—too fast. A sudden, overwhelming wave of bliss crashed over you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat.
“Jack—Jack, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, scrambling to hold him tighter.
His eyelids fluttered open halfway, empty eyesockets staring up at you while you trembled. You got lost staring into them, your head spinning to a heap of mush as you felt pleasure running your veins. That look alone pushed you over the edge.
You came so miserably hard.
Your whole body seized up, thighs shaking violently around his head as pleasure ripped through you in crashing waves. You clenched desperately around his tongues, moaning loud and shamelessly as your orgasm flooded his mouth. Jack groaned at the beginning of the taste, your slick flooding his senses so quickly it made him just as delirious as you.
His tongues stiffened inside you, pressing and nudging firmly against your rapidly clenching walls, milking every last pulse of pleasure as he sucked greedily on your clit. His nose stayed crammed tight against you, his lips sealing around you as he swallowed again and again, drinking everything you so graciously were giving him.
You were loud at first—broken moans and desperate praises spilling from your lips without filter. But as the peak began to fade, it melted into soft, mewled whines and shaky groans. Your orgasm turned into a rippling, lingering current deep in your gut, sending aftershocks through your body that made your legs twitch and your hips jerk weakly against his face.
With some effort, Jack began to tug his tongues from your body one at a time, the thick muscles sliding out of you, and a mess of slick followed. Jack made sure to lick it all up, his tongues running through your folds once more, savoring every twitch and flutter like he couldn’t bear to pull away.
You gasped sharply, everything suddenly feeling way too oversensitive.
“Jack—wait, it’s too much,” your voice was hoarse. “Too sensitive—”
He made a reluctant sound but slowly retreated, his tongues slipping back into his mouth like it pained him to do so. He sat back on his knees, looking up at you. His chin and mouth were glistening with a messy mix of his spit and your slick, and those black voids stared at you with unmistakable longing.
The moment he pulled away, the leg you still had planted on the floor buckled. You slid down the wall with a surprised yelp, landing in a boneless heap in front of him. Your ankle was still hooked over his shoulder, leaving you sprawled and openly exposed across his lap.
Jack caught you instantly though, his strong hands bracing your waist so you didn’t hit the floor too hard. You panted quickly, your chest billowing up and down as you tried to catch your breath. It felt like your whole body was buzzing.
Before you could even try to sit up, Jack gripped the ankle resting on his shoulder and tugged upward. You were pulled further down until your ass rested on top of his knees, your shoulders braced against the baseboards behind you. You felt like you were folded in half. You tried to scramble upright, feeling awkward, but Jack was already catching your other leg—the one with your panties still dangling uselessly from the ankle—and lifted it smoothly onto his opposite shoulder.
“More,” he grumbled.
Your stomach flipped with panic.
“No, no, no—wait, I need a minute,” you babbled through deep breaths of air, throwing your hands up. “I can’t—you’re too much, I need to breathe—just for a second—”
But he wasn’t listening. His focus had narrowed completely. Those endless black sockets were fixed between your legs with single-minded hunger.
“I’m sorry,” was all the response you got.
“Jack—”
He handled you like you weighed nothing.
His hands gripped your hips firmly and pulled your lower half upward in one smooth motion. Your knees hooked over his broad shoulders as your head and shoulder blades slid and landed against the floor. Your body folded almost in half, completely upside down, your shirt riding up to expose your stomach and chest. His large arms wrapped around your torso, strong hands gripping the soft flesh of your sides, holding you securely in place so you couldn’t even squirm out of it if you wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, but there was no real remorse in it. If anything, he just sounded excited. “You just taste so fucking good… I need you to cum again. Just a little more. Then I’ll be done.”
Your head was already spinning from the rush of blood, so you had no fight in your body or your words. You gripped his arms tightly, trying to brace yourself.
“Let’s just go to my room,” you fussed, trying to get him to just take a second. “It’s way too cramped in here, we can’t—”
But every protest died on your tongue the instant you felt it.
A familiar sensation dragged up through your soaked folds in a broad, wet lick. Your legs fell open limply over his shoulders as a broken moan wailed from your throat. The new angle gave him the perfect access, angling you however he wanted.
“Oh god…”
Jack moaned as he licked again, savoring every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough. His arms tightened around your torso, pulling your hips up and against his hungry mouth.
“Fuck…” he rasped against your cunt. “Do you even know… mhnnn… how good you taste?”
Jack’s eyelids fluttered shut again, the black voids disappearing as he focused entirely on you.
Then you saw it—the absolute horror and fascination of his other two tongues slipping out from between his lips to join the one. They were sickly blue-black, glistening and drooling with spit, long and monstrously thick. They dangled for a moment before curling forward, licking up the insides of your thighs until they finally converged, forking together right at your entrance.
Through a mouthful of his own tongues, Jack mumbled against your cunt, “Jus’ hang on to me.”
You dug your nails into his forearms, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps as the three tips pressed against your pulsing entrance at once. Your hips jerked, thighs instinctively trying to clamp shut around his head, but Jack held you firmly in place. It took a little work—a slight shift of your hips, a change of the angle—but eventually, the three tongues wiggled their way inside you together.
The stretch was impossible.
You let out a keening moan as your walls were forced open wider than they’d ever been, the bulbous, wet muscles filling you as completely as they could reach. No inch of room was left untouched. The sensation of burning was so intensely good that your mind went fuzzy at the edges. Your body went limp and mushy in his hold, your legs shaking helplessly over his shoulders as he sank all three tongues as deep as they could go.
Jack groaned loudly into you, the sound vibrating through your core as he began to move them, greedy thrusts and curls that rubbed against every sensitive spot inside you at once. Spit and your own arousal dripped messily down your ass and stomach as he practically fucked you with them.
You could barely think. All you could do was cling to his arms, your mouth open in a silent cry as he devoured you from the inside out, purring and growling enough to cause concern that he might actually be eating you.
And as if it couldn’t get any worse—or wonderfully better—Jack shifted one of his arms from your torso up to between your legs. His thumb found your throbbing clit and began rubbing slow circles over it, smearing your own wetness across the sensitive bud.
The shock of pleasure was devastating.
Your back arched hard off his lap, spine curving sharply as a silent cry tore through you. Your hands flew up above your head, palms slapping against the wall behind you for any kind of leverage. You tried to speak—tried to moan his name, to beg, to curse—but nothing came out. All the air had been punched out of your lungs. The only sounds your body could produce were the wet, filthy squelches of your cunt accommodating its intruder. You bucked your hips desperately, riding his face as much as your weak, trembling legs would allow. Every thrust of his tongues and stroke of his thumb sent white-hot sparks shooting up your spine. Your thighs shook violently over his shoulders, muscles twitching uncontrollably as you ground yourself against his mouth and tongue like you’d lost all semblance of control.
Jack’s purring grew louder, deeper, the constant rumble vibrating straight into your cunt and making your eyes roll back. He was completely lost in you, this newfound, insatiable hunger dampening his mind until all he could do was eat. You couldn’t even form words anymore. Couldn’t even think anymore.
You felt it building again—that familiar coil tightening deep in your core, winding tighter and tighter with every thrust of his tongues and stroke of his thumb.
“Ja… Ja—ck… Jaahh—” you tried to warn him, but your voice was just as useless as the rest of your body. Your hand slapped weakly at his arm, your fingers grappling desperately as panic rose.
But Jack didn’t stop. Of course he didn’t. If anything, he doubled down. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, spilling over and running down your flushed cheeks as the pleasure became almost too much. You managed one shaky, broken whimper of his name right before you felt it.
Little sharp pinpricks.
Your eyes flew open through the tears. Jack had pulled back just enough for you to see his face. His lips were pulled back in a growl, sharp teeth fully exposed and pressed right against your slick, sensitive folds. Not breaking skin, not hurting you, but just resting there, a deadly reminder of exactly what he was.
You almost found it shameful how quickly that ruined you.
Your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering uselessly as your vision blurred. You saw his face, then the ceiling, then the back of your eyelids—and then white.
“I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming—” you blabbed, trying ridiculously hard to say nearly nothing. “Jack—I’m—oh god—”
This one slammed into you harder than the last.
Your whole body seized up, back arching violently as you came with a silent, open-mouthed cry. Your cunt clenched hard around his invading tongues, pulsing and gushing around them as wave after wave crashed through you. Tears streamed down your face pathetically.
Jack growled louder against you, the sound feral and satisfied as he drank down every drop you gave him. His tongues kept working you through it, thrusting and curling relentlessly gathering everything they could.
“Jaaaaack—” you mewled.
He finally pulled his tongues out of you with a wet pop sound, leaving you clenching around nothing. He was panting hard against your cunt, his breath hot and ragged as he licked slowly through your folds, then across your trembling thighs, cleaning every trace of your release like he couldn’t help himself.
Your legs slipped weakly from his shoulders, falling limply around his hips. For a long moment, the only sounds in the tiny closet were your shared heavy breathing and the distant thump of music as you tried to calm yourselves. Jack looked down at you, his face glistening with your slick. He stayed quiet, just watching you with those endless black sockets while you tried to remember how to breathe.
When your breathing finally evened out a little, he asked softly, “Are you alright?”
You managed a small, shaky nod.
Jack carefully helped you sit up, guiding your back against the wall. “Can you stand?”
You tried shifting your weight, but your legs felt like jelly. You shook your head, embarrassed.
He let out a low chuckle. “It’s alright.”
Jack moved your legs gently off his lap so he could stand. He turned and rummaged through the hanging coats until he found one that looked soft and long enough. Without an explanation, he draped it over your mostly naked body, wrapping it around you like a blanket. Before you could even thank him, he leaned down and scooped you up into his arms. One arm hooked under your knees, the other supporting your back as he held you securely against his chest. He bent down just enough to snag your discarded jeans off the floor.
You clutched the coat tighter around yourself. “Jack, I can’t go out there like this…”
He chuckled again, the sound warm in his chest. “Toby and Nat have everyone occupied by now. No one’s gonna notice.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Besides… I think a nice bath in my room could do you some good.”
You hesitated for half a second, then nodded, too tired and floaty in the head to argue.
Jack cracked the closet door open, listening for a moment, his ears swiveling around. When the coast seemed clear, he slipped out with you cradled against him, your arms grabbing around his neck. You both moved quickly down the opposite end of the hall, away from the noise of the party. Laughter and shouting echoed from the living room as you snuck up the stairs like two stowaways.
He never let his grip loosen on you for a second.
Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!
It's a dark and stormy night, and a human is with her two monsters. The Reader and Pierrot are ready to finally turn things more physical, but too bad they really have no idea what they're doing. Good thing (or not) that they have a way too smug partner eager to show them the ropes.
Warnings: AFAB! Reader, smut, poly relationship, oral (fem receiving), frottage, slight restraint kink, virgin reader and Pierrot, slight virginity kink if you squint, aftercare
AN: First time writing smut! Or at least the first time publishing it. Falling down a rabbit hole of my new hyperfixation with this game that's not even finished yet.
Cross posted on AO3 at TheGhostInTheKitchen
Rain was beating gently against the window paired with the soft roll of thunder somewhere in the distance. Not that the two of them paid any of it any mind, of course. Pierrot and his darling (Y/N) were much too preoccupied with each other to give the oncoming storm a second thought.
Sequestered in the bedroom of her apartment, the sound of rain was quickly drowned out by the small gasps, moans, and sounds of their kisses. Gently, like handling an antique porcelain doll, Pierrot lowered (Y/N) down to rest on the plush pillows of her bed. He hovered over her, resting on his forearms, caging her in from either side. His back bowed as he leaned down to kiss her again and again and again. Not that he minded their difference in stature at all. In fact, there was something even more tantalizing in the idea that he towered over her.
(Y/N) sighed again into his kiss. His tongue, long and so in-humanly different from her own, pressed into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his glowing canary-colored ones, staring straight through her. Closing her eyes again, she pressed her upper body into his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Pierrot made a sound somewhere deep in his chest and all but collapsed on her. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe in enough oxygen, her head going fuzzy. “Pierrot,” She gasped between kisses. “I can’t-” Kiss. “Hold my-” Kiss. “Breath-” Kiss. “As long-” Kiss. “As you.” Kiss. “Just-just a second, okay?”
His dazed, blissed-out look snapped back to attention as he almost threw himself off of her. His arms jutted out straight, hands planted next to her head. “My lady, I-I’m sorry. I lost myself and I… I…” He quickly lost his train of thought as he gazed down at her. Hair spread around her head like a halo, eyes glassy, lips swollen, hands clutching desperately at her duvet. Pierrot groaned, catching himself at the last second from descending upon her again.
“It’s okay,” She said. “I think I kind of like that, actually. Umm, do you, I mean, would you want to, I don’t know, do more?” She could feel her face burning in a mixture of embarrassment, anticipation, and leftover buzzing adrenaline from making out seconds ago.
Pierrot made that sound again, somewhere between an animistic growl and a rumble of release. “You would… Let me?” He said quietly. His claws brushed against her hip, sliding ever so slightly underneath her shirt, pulling it up. The exposed skin felt sacred, like he was seeing something he was far too unworthy for.
“Let you?” (Y/N) repeated with a small giggle. “Yeah, I’d let you. I want you to.”
“I-I’ll be gentle,” Pierrot promised her, promised himself.
Pierrot leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the column of her throat. She sighed, running her fingers through his long, silver hair. His sharp teeth nipped at her pulse point, enjoying the way the beat of her heart thrummed against his tongue.
His hands slid up underneath her shirt until it was finally over her head and tossed somewhere. His large hand gripped her thigh, achingly close to the juncture between her hip and leg. His other hand fumbled along her back until it finally came into contact with the strap of her bra. Not wanting to untangle himself from her, to spend a second away from the warmth of her body, he fiddled with the hooks blindly. (Y/N) yelped as Pierrot accidentally snapped the strap in an inelegant attempt to unhook it.
“You’re doing it wrong,” A singsong voice teased from the doorway.
Pierrot immediately tensed, scowling. (Y/N) laughed lightly as she pushed herself up on her elbows, looking over at the door.
“Hi, Harlequin,” She said. “You’re dripping.”
Harlequin grinned wickedly. “So are you, dear one.”
One of the consequences for (Y/N) having given both of her lovers a key to her apartment, in a fruitless effort to get them to stop from breaking in using her balcony door, was that the two monsters would let themselves in whenever they wanted. Harlequin shook his head, a spray of water flicking from his curls after getting caught in the weather outside. Not paying any mind to his wet clothes, or, perhaps, very aware of them, he strode over to the bed. Unceremoniously, he fell beside the tangled couple. Lying on his side, he posed with one hand on his hip and propping up on his elbow, resting his head in his upturned palm. His grin widened as Pierrot pulled (Y/N) closer to him as if to shield her body from his lecherous gaze.
While the three of them had wholeheartedly agreed to being in a relationship, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel Pierrot and Harlequin were one wrong move away from turning this cold war hot, and not in a fun way.
“You know, I’m kind of hurt,” Harlequin said, reaching out and curling a finger around a lock of her hair. “You both going along and having fun without me.”
“You have great timing,” (Y/N) said. “I figured you’d show up eventually.”
“He certainly has timing,” Pierrot said. “I wouldn’t exactly call it great, though.”
Harlequin hummed, eyes narrowing. “You know, this is really your fault,” He teased. “Our poor, innocent Pierrot has become sort of a pervert ever since he met you.”
“Don’t listen to him, my dear!” Pierrot yelped. “I’m not-! I would never-!”
“Oh? You’re the one who started breaking into her place in the middle of the night first, remember? Tell me, (Y/N), did you ever happen to wake up with a strange taste in your mouth?”
Harlequin snickered at Pierrot’s flustered stuttering as the latter tried to defend himself from a crime they all knew he was guilty of. (Y/N) had come to terms with that particular detail a long time ago.
“So what’s your excuse, then?” (Y/N) said, playfully shoving Harlequin.
He mock gasped and held a hand to his chest. “Excuse you! I’m not a pervert, I’m a savant!” As if to prove himself, he reached behind (Y/N)’s back and undid the clasp on her bra with one definitive flick of his wrist.
The cups fell from her chest, exposing her to them. Suddenly very aware of her own body and the two hungry pairs of eyes observing her every minuscule movement, she lifted her arm up to cover herself.
Pierrot caught her hand. “Please, don’t. You’re so beautiful, my lady. I want to see every part of you.” He leaned forward, forehead gently touching hers.
Harlequin neatly slid behind her, resting her back against his chest. His hands came around her, one pressed against her stomach and the other just below her breast, twitching to reach up and squeeze. “I want to see everything, too. I bet you make the cutest faces.” He nipped at her neck.
“Pierrot, Harlequin,” She gasped out, eyes closing as she leaned back into the latter's embrace, the former following to press into her.
“Of course,” Harlequin said, not satisfied to just let the moment play out without additional ribbing. “I don’t know how much help our dear Pierrot will be. I said he was a pervert, but I didn’t say he was a very good one. Poor little virginal Pierrot, no idea what to do with his love even when she’s all open and waiting in front of him, huh?”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Pierrot growled.
“I just want to give our darling a heads up, is all,” Harlequin said with fake innocence. “At least one of us needs to make sure she isn’t disappointed with some fumble in the dark.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” (Y/N) interrupted the argument before it could really start. “I mean, I’ve kissed a few people,” she ignored the flash of bloodlust in their eyes. “But I haven’t really, you know, done anything. So if you’re going to give Pierrot a hard time you have to give me one, too.”
The two paused at her confession. Suddenly, the air in the room felt heavier, the rain beating against the windows much louder. Their eyes met briefly as a moment of understanding passed between them. This, this was much more serious than they thought. Their naturally possessive nature seemed to double. The idea of keeping their human so close, having such intimate knowledge before anyone else, being the first, last, and only ones to ever bring her pleasure, and that she would readily let them have access to it, stirred a deep hunger in their gut.
Harlequin, wanting to break the tension, smirked and (Y/N) immediately regretted her choice of phrasing. “Oh,” He said. “I can give you something hard alright-”
Pierrot tackled him.
As they wrestled on the ground, (Y/N) rolled over on her belly, watching them from the edge of the bed, feet kicking up and chin in the palm of her hand. “I have downstairs neighbors, guys,” She said.
They either ignored or simply didn’t hear her. Harlequin’s cackle of victory suddenly turned into a squawk as Pierrot wrestled himself on top of him, hands secure and squeezing around his neck.
(Y/N) signed, watching them duke it out. She wondered if this was how they showed affection, like cats play-fighting. It was a good thing their species, whatever it really was, was so sturdy. Despite all their time together, she still didn’t really know much about their biological differences besides the fact that her two lovers weren’t human. Even with simple make-out sessions like the one before, they insisted that their circus costumes stay on to keep up the illusion of humanity. The farthest she had ever stripped them of was their hats revealing their horns or their gloves to show sharp claws. She remembered the way even Harlequin had gone silent when she had brushed her fingers along the keratin ridges. The tips of Pierrot’s fingers were black, as if stained with ink, fading into the milky white of his skin as it traveled down his hands to his forearms.
“Guys,” She said. At least Pierrot hadn’t brought out his knives yet. “Guys?” Harlequin’s teeth snapped as he managed to get on Pierrot’s back and put him in a choke hold. “Okay then. Drastic measures.”
(Y/N) swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Lifting her hips up, she undid her shorts, shimming out of them and her underwear. She threw them off to the side, to the same non-important space wherever her shirt and bra and ended up. Taking a breath to steady her nerves, heart loudly beating in anticipation, she leaned back on her hands and opened her legs in what she really hoped was a sexy pose.
“Hey! Am I going to have to take care of myself tonight or are you guys going to help me out?” She internally cringed at how cheesy that line sounded, but hoped it didn’t show on her face.
To be fair, the two clowns weren’t really paying much attention to her face. They froze, still as statues, only their eyes moving to rake over her form. She swore she could feel their gaze like a physical weight. Suddenly more self-conscious than she would want to admit, she rolled her shoulders in to shrink back, knees coming together.
Before she could totally redirect course, Pierrot threw off Harlequin and lurched for her. His large hands gripped her knees, pulling them back apart. “Please,” He said, looking up at her with all the reverence of a supplicant praying to a goddess. “Don’t.”
(Y/N) gulped, pinned down my his stare. “Okay.”
“Being on your knees suits you, Pierrot,” Harlequin said as he slithered back on the bed behind (Y/N). When Pierrot glared at him, and (Y/N) was momentarily worried they’d start fighting again, Harlequin held up his hands in surrender. “I just want to make sure you’re treating our darling with the care she deserves. You don’t want to leave her unsatisfied, do you?”
“No…”
Harlequin smirked and wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s middle, trapping her against him. “Good. So just listen to the expert and we’ll all have a good time, yeah?” Still pretty annoyed that he would have to take advice from Harlequin for anything, Pierrot nodded once. Harlequin’s grin widened. “Good boy~. Now, start by kissing her inner thighs.” Pierrot pushed her knees further apart. He leaned in, eyes half-closed, gently kissing the soft skin of her thighs. She gasped at each one. “Good,” Harlequin purred. “Now higher.” (Y/N)’s chest started to heave from each breath as Pierrot’s mouth moved higher and higher up her legs, so achingly close to the sweet spot between them. “Aww, look at you two, so well behaved. Do you want a reward? Go ahead, lick her pussy.”
“Don’t be vulgar,” Pierrot said, half distracted. His tongue almost seemed to unspool from his mouth, inch after inch. Long and a dull lemon-yellow, it tapered at the end to a dull point. He slid his hands to the apex of her thighs. Using his thumbs, he pulled apart the lips of her labia. Before either of them could lose their nerve, Pierrot leaned forward and licked a thick trail from the bottom of her twitching hole all the way to the top above her clit.
“Ah!” With a cry, (Y/N) jolted back, slamming into Harlequin’s chest. He chuckled lowly, wrapping his arms around her tighter.
Pierrot looked up with wide, desperate eyes. “Are you alright, my lady? Did I hurt you?”
“No, it was good. R-really good. Keep going. Please.” Pierrot beamed at the praise and ducked back down. Eyes hooded as he focused on his task, he began to lick at her heat with renewed vigor. She let out small gasps and moans, hands clenching the bedspread and legs twitching. She reached one of her hands down touching the back of Pierrot’s. He let go of her leg and clasped hers, their fingers intertwining.
“Try writing the alphabet with your tongue,” Harlequin instructed. “Write your name. Or mine, if you want to do it the right way.” Thankfully, Pierrot ignored the last barb, tracing his tongue in vague letter shapes.
Harlequin ghosted a hand up her stomach, up across her breast, to hold her chin. He pulled her face up to look up him. “Knew you’d make pretty sounds,” He mumbled against her lips. He kissed her, forcing his own long, deep green forked tongue into her mouth. He swallowed her moans greedily. One hand still pressing against her stomach, his other came up to cup and squeeze her breast. She yelped into his mouth, her free hand coming up to grip his cape. “Tell me, dear one, which one do you like more? Like this?” He pinched her nipple between two fingers, slightly twisting and pulling. “Or this?” He flicked it between his long, taloned fingers.
“The – the first one,” She stuttered out. Her eyes were glazing over, face heated and flushed.
Harlequin grinned wickedly, as if he could grin any other way. He switched from groping and squeezing at her breasts to pinching her nipples, enjoying the way she jolted from the stimulation. He began rocking his hips, grinding against her bare ass. She pushed back, trying not to let herself get distracted by the large, hard length she felt.
With his chin hooked on her shoulder, Harlequin looked down at Pierrot between her legs. “Press on her clit with your thumb,” He instructed.
Pierrot looked up, a disappointed and confused look on his porcelain face. “Her what?”
Harlequin snickered as (Y/N) playfully whacked him with the back of her hand. Reaching down, she slid her fingers through her folds, opening them up for him. She twitched at her own touch, combined with Pierrot’s open-mouthed staring in wonder as if he hadn’t been devouring her a second before.
“Right here,” She said, and her voice sounded oddly breathless even to her own ears. She tapped with her middle finger, flinching again from accidental over stimulation. “It-It feels really good.”
Pierrot nodded once, hand sliding up to follow where she had instructed. He pressed his thumb solidly against her clit. (Y/N) cried out, eyes closing and head thrown back against Harlequin’s shoulder. Pierrot rubbed his thumb in small, tight circles around her clit and he dipped his head back down. Harlequin reached one massive hand down to hold her hips in place as she bucked against Pierrot’s face.
The combined sounds of her wetness dripping out of her and Pierrot’s movements with his tongue made an embarrassing squelching noise in the small room. She instinctively tried to bring her knees together again, closing around Pierrot’s head. Instead, he took this as encouragement. Not content with simply tracing shapes anymore, he pressed his tongue into her twitching entrance. His tongue flexed and wriggled, reaching farther that (Y/N) ever had on her own.
“Our dear Pierrot,” Harlequin purred. “Doing so well. Such a fast learner, isn’t he? Maybe you should thank him, huh?”
“Pierrot!” (Y/N) gasped out between moans. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! It feels so good, thank you!”
Pierrot let out that monstrous groan again from deep in his chest. Settled on his knees in front of her, his own hips started to buck in time with the thrusting undulations of his tongue.
One hand still firmly on her hip, Harlequin abandoned fondling her breast with the other. He trailed the edges of his claws down her body, stopping to press down firmly just above her pelvis.
“You feel him in here?” He whispered in her ear. “Feel how deep it goes? Stretching you out all nice? Just wait till it’s our cock. You want that, huh? Want to give us your virginity? Want us to ruin your cute little human body with our monster cocks? Kinky little thing. Come on, Pierrot’s been working so hard for you. Cum on his tongue. I want to see what your face looks like when you do it.”
Head thrown back on Harlequin’s shoulder, she locked eyes with his glowing green ones. Breathless from her gasps and moans and yelps, she leaned forward to put one final kiss pecked against his lips before her eyes squeezed shut and her orgasm washed over her. Her back went ridged and her legs seized, trying to kick out despite Pierrot’s solid grip. Pierrot continued tongue fucking her trembling hole through her release. When she finally came back to herself, twitching from over stimulation, she squeezed his hat where she knew his ivory horns were hidden. He finally pulled back, eyes clouded, tongue lolling from his mouth, dripping with a mix of his own saliva and her cum.
Their eyes met, matched blissed out expressions. For a moment, the sound of the rain outside amplified, matched only by their heavy breathing. It was a moment wrapped in euphoria and anticipation for what was to come next.
Until, of course, Harlequin started to cackle. “Aww, that was perfect!” He said between laughs. “Who knew you had it in you, Pierrot? Come on, tell me, does she taste like you imagined she would? When you were tugging your cock with her panties that you stole, did reality match your imagination? I got to admit, that was pretty good for a first timer. Of course, I could have gotten her there in half the time, but I’ll give you some slack just this once. Aww, look at your face! Hey, hey, tell me, did you cum in your pants? Was it that good? God, your so pathetic it’s adorable.”
Still fuzzy from the high of her orgasm, (Y/N) noticed Pierrot’s look too late. He surged forward, clawed hand snatching up and tangling in the back of Harlequin’s dark, curly hair, and pulling him forward over her shoulder.
“Shut. Up.” He hissed. His mouth crashed into Harlequin’s. Pierrot’s eyes were closed while Harlequin’s were wide open in surprise. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and he leaned further into the kiss. (Y/N) watched in fascination with a spark renewing in her belly as their tongues flashed between them in the kiss. She could feel the vibrations of deep purrs coming from both of them. When they finally pulled apart, both panting, a string of shiny silver saliva connected them.
(Y/N) couldn’t help it. She laughed. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to try and cover it, but it was hard to hide anything when the two of them were pressed so tightly against her. Harlequin frowned and looked off to the side, trying to act unbothered. Pierrot honestly looked a little hurt.
(Y/N) cupped each of the faces, bringing them closer and kissing their cheek. “You guys are cute,” She said.
Harlequin gave a sharped toothed smile. “Cute?” He echoed. “I’ll show you cute.” Shoving Pierrot off, he hooked his arms under (Y/N)’s so her armpits were slotted against the inner crook of his elbows. His dark green tendrils slid from his back, wrapping around her thighs from hip to knee, and prying her legs as far apart as they could manage. Harlequin stood in one fluid motion. (Y/N) yelped, half-suspended in the air, the fear of falling momentarily flashing through her mind.
“What are you waiting for, Pierrot?” Harlequin said. “You’re reward for doing so well, I’ll let you go first.”
(Y/N) felt her face burn and she looked away, embarrassed about being put on full display with no choice but to accept her position. It made her heart speed up and lower belly clench in a way she loved. Pierrot’s shadow fell over her as he stood back up. She whimper as his fingers trailed along her, settling on her hips. Harlequin’s tentacles squeezed and undulated, as if in anticipation themselves.
“My lady,” Pierrot said softly. “My (Y/N).”
“Pierrot,” (Y/N) answered back. “Please, go ahead. I want this. I want you.”
Pierrot groaned, one hand coming off her hip to fumble at the belt of his costume. Finally, finally, he pulled himself out. (Y/N) gulped hard. She wasn’t really sure what she had expected him to look like, but the sight of his dick still took her by surprise. It was big, of course it was big, look at the rest of him, long and thick. It didn’t have the same anatomy as a human penis with a shaft and head. Instead, the whole thing was one continuous organ. It was almost tear-drop shaped, bulging at the bottom and tapering to a no less intimidating head at the top, with a second knot-like bump in the middle. Her empty pussy clenched around nothing imagining that knot catching inside her. It flushed, twitching and jumping untouched, dark gray at the tip as if dipped in ink, morphing into alabaster white white like his hands. A gob of pearlescent pre-cum clung to the tip.
(Y/N) whimpered at the first contact of his dick against her folds, still tender from her previous orgasm. He ran the tip up and down, collecting the remnants of her release, bumping the head against her clit. The tip caught on her entrance and they both gasped.
“Enough waiting,” Harlequin growled. With a flash, one of his tentacles unwrapped from (Y/N)’s leg and whipped out, wrapping around Pierrot’s cock. Pierrot gave a strangled gasp at the sudden contact. A second tentacle wrapped around his waist, yanking him closer. Working in tandem and not giving either of them any chance to protest, the tentacles guided Pierrot’s cock to plunge inside (Y/N). It unraveled from its hold on him as he sunk into her waiting heat, instead traveling to wrap around his wrist.
Pierrot groaned as (Y/N)’s pussy pulled him in. In a single thrust, he was half way in, the edge of his knot papping against her entrance. (Y/N) let out a sound between a shriek and a moan, body jolting at the intrusion. Even after Pierrot’s attention to help prepare her to take him, there was still a pleasant burn as she stretched to accommodate all of him. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she would even be able to. But she should have expected that her monsters were going to try anyway.
“(Y/N),” Pierrot choked out. “So tight, so warm, so soft!” His hips pulled back a fraction on an inch, unwilling to be away from heat for even a second, before pushing back forward to stuff more of his cock inside her.
(Y/N) clutched at Harlequin’s shoulders, crying out again.She swore she could feel every inch of him in perfect detail. She clenched down around him. Starting with a stutter then moving to a steady, deep pace, Pierrot began fucking into her. Her feet bounced helplessly suspended in the air. The burn she had felt before melted away, replaced with an almost electric jolt of pleasure each time his hips crashed into hers. The knot rubbed perfectly against her g-spot. She could swear the head was kissing her cervix. She let out an “Ah! Ah! Ah!” with every thrust, matching the plap, plap, plap noise coming from where their bodies were joined.
Pierrot’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted. He didn’t know where to look, from her beautiful face slack from pleasure, to her breasts bouncing with each thrust, to her pussy where his dick was pistoning in and out, in and out, in and out. His claws dug firmer into her hips, indenting the skin and threatening to break. There was something he was supposed to do, right? Wasn’t he meant to be gentle? This was his darling, after all. He couldn’t risk breaking her with their first time, not after she had entrusted her body to him. But, oh, it was too much, it all felt too good. And she was enjoying it, wasn’t she? Didn’t she say she had wanted this? His hips sped up, willing to go deeper, faster, rougher, more, more, more.
“Is he being too rough with you?” Harlequin asked with fake sympathy. “That’s what happens when you lock up a beast for too long. But I think you like the beast, don’t you? Look at how your tits bounce every time he thrusts inside you. You look like such a whore.”
“N-No,” Pierrot said, torn between being lost in pleasure and defending his lady love. “She-she’s not. She’s good – she’s a good girl. So sweet, so perfect, so tight, so, so, so good.”
Harlequin hummed. “A good whore, then. The best whore. Our whore.”
“Harlequin.” (Y/N) whined. They couldn’t tell if it was in protest to his bullying or a plea for him to come closer. Deciding on the second one, Harlequin leaned down and (Y/N) craned her neck up and backward. The upside down kiss was sloppy, but neither of them minded. (Y/N) didn’t think she had enough composure left in her for a smooth, elegant kiss, anyway.
Pierrot was pressing bruises into her hips by this point. Harlequin’s tendrils had to shift to accommodate Pierrot’s increasingly more desperate pace. (Y/N) could swear she could feel the knot pulsing within her.
She pulled slightly back from Harlequin, still sharing the same breath. “Close,” She tried to warn. “So close. Please, want to cum. Let me cum again.”
“You heard the lady, Pierrot,” Harlequin said, breathless himself. “Don’t keep her waiting.”
Pierrot probably couldn’t have given a comprehensive retort even is he wanted to. His mind was foggy, too lost in (Y/N)’s body, the heat that spread through his entire body. Harlequin probably could have said anything to him at that point, hell, a tornado could start raging outside and Pierrot wouldn’t pay it any mind. All that mattered, his entire world, had shrunk down to the warm, soft body in front of him and the pretty sounds he could draw out of her.
One of the tendrils stretched from its hold on her thigh. It reached out, pressing against her clit. That was enough to send her over the edge. Her back arched in the air. Her toes and fingers curled. Her mouth dropped open, releasing one more desperate cry.
Pierrot moaned lowly, his hips stuttering to a stop pressed as far inside her as he could as he came. His cum shot deep within her, quickly filling her up to come out and seep around the base of his cock. It felt like liquid fire within her.
Pierrot’s hair fell in his face, half obscuring it as he leaned over her still suspended body. His tongue dropped out as he panted like a dog in the afterglow. (Y/N) wasn’t much better, eyes closed and head dropped back, pulling in deep lungfuls of air. She could feel his cock twitch inside her, still heavy and hard.
“Think you have one more left in you, dear one?” Harlequin asked. She looked up at him, his glowing green eyes, his sharp smile, his own breathing coming quick from watching the scene that had played out in front of him.
“Uh-huh,” She managed to say, her voice starting to feel rough.
The smile on his porcelain face seemed to somehow grow sharper. He tugged her from Pierrot’s weakened grasp, one arm under her knees and one on her back like a princess in an old fairy tale. Oh, he liked that idea. He was defiantly going to have to play with it later. Should he take the role of the brave knight? The handsome prince come to her rescue? To kiss her awake from a 100 year sleep? Or would it be more fun to be the wicked wizard who placed the curse? The dark ruler from another land, kidnapping the king’s only daughter? The possibilities were endless, but something to consider for another time.
“Pierrot, lay down on the bed, on your back,” Harlequin demanded. His tendrils still wrapped around the red and black clown’s waist, he pulled him over, maneuvering Pierrot how he liked.
Pierrot lay back on the bed, head propped up by soft pillows, legs too long and hanging off the end. His cock still stood at attention, his and (Y/N)’s cum dripping down the long shaft. Harlequin spun around dramatically, his cape whipping around him. (Y/N) laughed at the unexpected movement. Harlequin smiled, something with genuine happiness and contentment, something he hadn’t felt fully in a long time. Stepping back into his role, he took a step forward, guiding (Y/N) to lay atop Pierrot so that she faced him, straddling his middle.
“Hi,” She said.
“Hello,” Pierrot said, bashful. His hands settled on her hips again, in the same spot where bruises were starting to bloom. Harlequin knew Pierrot was going to feel awful once he noticed they were there, sentimental fool.
“Hold her steady for me,” Harlequin said. He slid Pierrot’s hand farther up to her waist, settling his own so he could pull her hips up. One hand settled on her back between her shoulder blades, pushing her chest down so it was flush with Pierrot’s.
(Y/N) turned her head, laying it down on Pierrot’s chest so she could look back at Harlequin. She watched as he reached down, releasing himself from the confines of his pants.
He reveled in the soft sound she made when her eyes darted down. “You have two,” She said, as if saying it out loud would make it make sense.
The were more human-looking than Pierrot’s, but not by much. Besides the fact there were two cocks, stacked atop each other, for one. While not as big at Pierrot’s, they were no less substantial. There had prominent veins, almost glowing with a poison-green hue. A thick line of ridges on the bottom of each. Both heads beaded with pre-cum. A large drop from the top fell to the one below it, sliding down the shaft. And then, (Y/N) noticed, they started to writhe independent of each other. They almost acted as different variations of Harlequin’s tendrils that she was already so familiar with.
He grinned and replied in a sing-song tease, “I do~. Scared?”
She looked back up at his face with something that made his heart stutter. “Of you? Never.”
The corner of Harlequin’s smile twitched, his green, glowing pupils growing larger. He splayed his hand out flat at the small of her back and thrust in. The top cock speared into her, splitting her open, while the bottom rutted from the outside.
“Fuuuuck~” Harlequin let out a low, drawn out moan. His forehead thunked against the bare skin of her back at her shoulder blade. He muttered something in Portuguese. (Y/N) had been trying to teach herself their first language, but she suspected whatever it was he had said wouldn’t have been covered in her Duolingo courses. “I can feel Pierrot’s cum in you. Want me to fuck it in deeper? I’ll give you mine, too, yeah? Riiiight in here.” He tapped his claws on her stomach, right above her navel.
She closed her eyes, mouth falling open as Harlequin started moving. He’d pull out half way before slamming back in. He set a steady, hard pace, just on the fast side, but less desperate than Pierrot’s. His bottom dick pushed her labia open, the thick length of it pressing continuously against her clit. The head bumped against her stomach, leaving a smear of pre-cum at each pass. Her head swam picturing its twin at the same spot within her.
Pierrot drug his fingers through her hair, planting solidly against her scalp in a possessive grip. He pulled her head up, her eyes fluttering open, lost in the over-stimulating feelings coming from her pussy which took over her mind into a perfect almost drunk feeling. They kissed, the whole thing sloppy and uncoordinated in the best way possible.
“You guys are so cute,” Harlequin said from behind (Y/N). “You just have to have her attention even when I’m the one fucking her, don’t you, Pierrot?”
Pierrot glared, still kissing (Y/N). She felt his other hand slide up, brushing her side momentarily before slipping between their bodies. Harlequin’s back arched and he gave an undignified squawk and Pierrot pushed his own cock against Harlequin’s second, holding them both together and starting to move his hand up and down, jerking them off together. Both of them, inside and out, undulated in a spiral rhythm.
Going back to his thrusting pace, Harlequin gave his own half-hearted glare. “You’re a quick learner, huh?” He grumbled. Pierrot smirked.
(Y/N) closed her eyes again, head resting sideways on Pierrot’s chest, listening to his accelerated heart beat. Wait, why did it sound weird? Were there two heartbeats? Whatever, that was something to focus on another time. Right now, all she could concentrate on was how the air was punched from her lungs with every harsh push on Harlequin’s hips against her ass. She couldn’t tell if it was louder or if her heightened awareness created an auditory illusion, but the wet pap-ing sound between them became even more lewd to her ears. She could feel herself dripping onto Harlequin and Pierrot’s still frotting cocks just below her. The fap-fap-fap noise from Pierrot’s hand there added to the clench in her lower belly, the coil of her third orgasm growing tighter and tighter with each second.
Harlequin gripped her chin, roughly pulling her head up into an upside down kiss. Their tongues tangled together, unfocused and desperate for connection. Her eyes were teary, starting to spill over and stain her cheeks when he finally pulled his forked tongue from down her throat and let her breathe again.
“I-” She stuttered out, each word breathless. “I don’t know if I can again!”
“Yeah, you can, pretty girl,” He praised lowly. “One more, give us one more. Come on, we’ll take care of each other, yeah? All together this time. You, me, and Pierrot.”
She whined as he dropped her, face burying her face in Pierrot’s doublet, hands clenched so tight she might have worried about tearing into the fabric if she could form a coherent thought.
“(Y/N),” Pierrot gasped. “Harlequin.” His hand worked faster on their cocks, thumb swiping the heads.
(Y/N) mumbled something into Pierrot’s chest. She repeated the same thing again and again, the vibrations of her words coursing through him like an earthquake. Finally, she turned her head and said it one more time. “Love you. Love you so much!”
Harlequin bit down hard on his lip to prevent what would have been an embarrassingly needy sound escape as he came. Pierrot’s eyes rolled back, not bothering to hide his sounds as he joined Harlequin. (Y/N), trapped between their two impossibly hot bodies, cried out with a noise that sounded terribly pornographic in a way she didn’t think she was capable of.
Harlequin came from both his cocks. The one inside flicked as much as it could while in the tight grip of her pussy, pressing solidly against her cervix to spew out everything he had been holding back, staking a claim on her insides. The cock outside came at the same time as Pierrot, their combined cum splattering on her belly and Pierrot’s hand as he continued moving it rapidly through the orgasm. (Y/N) felt her knees go out as her vision became speckled with black dots.
Her whole body went limp like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. She could feel Harlequin fall against her back, the huffs on his breath hot and heavy, as he tried to keep himself propped up with one arm that was shaking from the strain. Pierrot, with the advantage of already being reclined, lifted his hand up, admiring the way his and Harlequin’s combined cum dripped through his fingers. He scratched lightly on (Y/N) back with the other in senseless patterns.
After a minute, or an hour, who could tell, Harlequin pushed himself up. He wrapped and arm around (Y/N)’s waist, letting them both fall to the side. He nuzzled his face in the back of her neck, gently nipping at the soft skin. Pierrot also turned on his side to face them. He used this thumb to brush away the tear tracks on her face, kissing in the remnants of each one.
“My lady,” He said softly. “My love. You were so perfect. So wonderful. I can never thank you enough for giving me such a gift. Rest easy. I’ll be here for you when you wake.”
“Hang on,” Harlequin cut in. “We’re not done yet.”
(Y/N) blinked at him from over her shoulder. “I don’t think I can go again, Harlequin. Everything feels fuzzy. I don’t think I can even move.”
Harlequin smiled, pushing a lock of hair away from her sweaty brow. “Not that, sweetheart, but I’ll keep that in mind. Come on, Pierrot.”
“But-But-!” Pierrot started to protest, but allowed himself to be pulled out of the room by Harlequin. He gave a desperate look over his shoulder, hand out and grasping. (Y/N) huffed a laugh and wiggled her fingers at him in a little good-bye.
She laid on her back, hands on her belly, eyes closed. She could hear the two of them fussing around in the kitchen, low voices punctuated by Harlequin’s vicious laughter. She frowned slightly and rubbed her thighs together. She swore she could feel the heat of Harlequin and Pierrot’s cum radiating from her belly. She could start to feel everything seeping out of her. What was that called? She knew she’d heard the term at some point, but between the pleasant exhaustion of being absolutely and thoroughly fucked out and the calming beat of the rain was lulling her almost to sleep.
“Oh, yeah,” She said with a yawn. “A cream pie.”
“A lovely term for something so utterly devious, isn’t it?” Harlequin said, returning. Pierrot stood in the doorway, clutching a glass of water with both hands, eyes wide and almost bashful looking, as if he and his rival/frienamy/lover weren’t just rearranging her insides. Harlequin sat next to her, an arm around her back to help her sit up. “Open your legs up for me, dearest. No funny business this time, promise.” He held up two fingers crossed and winked. She laughed lightly but did what he said. She winced a little at the sight of their semi-shimmering white cum trickled from her abused hole, coating the inside of her tights and staining her sheets. Harlequin brought a warm wet washcloth between her legs, cleaning it up. She flinched a bit from over stimulation at the contact, but leaned into him as he squeezed her to his chest. “Don’t just stand there like a lump, Pierrot. Being a whore is hard work. Give the girl her water.”
Pierrot narrowed his eyes, those golden pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Still, he obeyed, walking over and sitting next to her on the bed. He brought the glass to her lips, a finger under her chin to tilt her head back as he poured the water into her mouth. His eyes focused on her throat as it bobbed when she swallowed.
“I told you not to call her that,” He scolded.
“What, a whore? Maybe a fuck-doll then? A cum-dump? Grade-A fuck-meat?”
(Y/N) could feel Pierrot’s grasp on her chin tighten, and she held his hand gently before the taller clown could retaliate. “Thank you. Both of you,” She said. “That was… It was a lot, but it was good. And I’m glad it was with you guys.”
“Of course,” Harlequin bragged. “I’m an excellent teacher. Maybe next time I’ll teach you to take a cock down your throat, hmm?”
“Harlequin,” Pierrot growled in warning, even if in his mind he was already picturing it.
(Y/N) started to laugh at Harlequin’s rude antics again but was interrupted by another yawn. She blinked blearily. Looping and arm through each of theirs, she pulled them down on the bed in a cuddle pile.
“Next time,” She said with her eyes closed. “Let me wait until I can at least walk on my own again.”
“No promises,” Harlequin said. He pulled her so her back was flush against his front, chin pressed over her shoulder and face pressed into her neck.
“Sleep well, my love,” Pierrot whispered. He wrapped his arm around her waist, one of his long legs slotting between hers, kissing the crown of her head.
And there, in the safest and most dangerous place she could be, trapped between two bloodthirsty monsters who adored her more than the tide loves the moon, she fell asleep.
Happy birthday to my friend @a-writer-with-anxiety ! I hope you enjoy your very special day, and I hope you enjoy this very special request! 💖💖
🌑-nero
Gideon x F!reader (Special Request!)
CW: Power imbalance (doctor!Gideon x intern!Reader), age gap, jacobson's organ, younger reader tempts older Gideon, oral (f!recieving), mating press, breeding kink towards the end.
🐍Snake and Mouse🐁
Victor had long since learned to trust his instincts. After all, why wouldn't he? They'd gotten him this far in life. It was rare his instincts would lead him to trouble, but it did happen every once in a while.
This time, they lead him straight to you.
You're the exact opposite of what he needs. Young, smart, sweet. One of the interns at the Chronic Care Center. You smile at him in the hallways as you pass, turning to watch him over your shoulder. He always returns the favor.
You're somehow the exact opposite and exactly what he needs. It was a slow decline into madness, one he didn't realize until he made the mistake of getting close to you.
Victor could smell you within the halls. It wasn't a scent you were aware of-- It wasn't a matter of any perfume you wore, or scented shampoo. This was something deeper, something...animalistic. The first few times he noticed, it stopped him in his tracks. Victor returned to his office each time, hand cupping his mouth, breathing deeply.
What a curious reaction. Despite his own horror, he's fascinated with the way his body reacts to you. You're like some kind of drug, a substance he somehow has become hooked on without even tasting.
And Lord, do you test him. You seem to have caught on to his lingering gaze. Instead of being fearful of his looming presence, you welcomed it; waiting for him in the hallways when no one else was around, touching his arm when you laugh at something he says. You walk in close to him, so close he has to bend over slightly to hear your soft voice. His fingers ache to run through your hair, to trail your cheek, to press into your skin.
Victor tells himself its nothing. You're twenty years his junior. Smart, beautiful... He simply needs to control himself.
Until one evening.
"Doctor," you say, poking your head through the door of his office, "Can I bother you for a moment?"
He looks up from the report in front of him. You've never asked him for anything before. He didn't even know how you found his office. Victor nods, motioning you inside. He glances at his watch. It's six in the evening. Most of the staff should be gone already.
"Of course, dear," he says, motioning you closer.
You quickly shuffle to his desk. Victor finds himself watching you as you walk-- You're wearing a tight pencil skirt and blouse. Despite himself, his eyes catch the line of your legs that leads up to your hip, the way your skirt stretches across your thighs, the gentle curve of your breast, how your hair falls over your shoulder. Victor pulls his gaze away. You lean over his desk, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I need some help on this report, and my manager has already left for the day," you say sheepishly.
As your hand flicks your hair over your shoulder, a gentle, sweet smell wafts his way. Victor closes his eyes briefly, inhaling slowly. His lips part, taking in more of your scent. You smell...sweet. Soft. Somehow...Somehow he knows that scent. Victor clears his throat, peering at the report you're holding out for him. His eyes dart across the page, but he can't focus.
"Your numbers are all correct it seems," Victor mumbles.
You fingertips brush the collar of his shirt. He stiffens, glancing at you as you lean even closer to him.
"I hope it's okay that I'm here so late," you say, achingly close to his ear.
Your thigh brushes his leg. Heat rushes his skin as that delicious scent floods his senses. He clears his throat, setting the report down on the desk. Victor leans back in his chair and there you are, pressing in close to him, hand trailing his tie. You grip his tie slightly, blush flushing your face as he watches you with a lidded gaze.
"This is highly inappropriate, little mouse," he says gently. His hands tighten around the arms of his chair.
"Just like smelling me any chance you get, hmm?" You murmur, tugging on his tie. "That's not super professional of you."
You rest your knee on the chair between his legs, Your knee brushes against his crotch and he tilts his head back, pleasure darting up his spine as you press into his hardening length. His control slips.
Victor's hands leave his chair. He grips your hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of your skirt. You bite your bottom lip, satisfied with yourself for breaking his cool demeanor.
"You have no idea what you're asking for," Victor warns softly.
You're small in comparison to him. Most other people are, but he knows for a fact you aren't prepared for the sheer size of him.
You tug his tie hard, bringing him forward. "Perhaps I need discipline, then. Doctor."
You lips bush his, your sweet scent flooding every part of him. He breathes you in, goosebumps raising along his skin. Victor presses his lips to yours, letting you guide him further and further into what could be the most professionally inappropriate thing he's ever done. He grips the back of your hair as his tongue slips past your teeth. You sigh against him, hands moving from his tie to wrap around the back of his neck.
You are delicious.
His other hand roams your hips, reaching around to squeeze your ass, your thighs. You're perfectly pliable in every way. His mouth roams down the column of your throat, trailing just below the hem of your shirt. A soft, barely there moan leaves your mouth and his cock twitches at the sound.
Victor's hand explores the skin under your skirt, pushing it up as he brushes the inside of your thighs. You whimper as he brushes your underwear.
"Where's your confidence now?" he murmurs against your mouth. You move your legs apart, giving him ample room to gently push your panties to the side.
Your eyes flutter closed and you breathe out shakily as his fingers work you into a frenzy. The large pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, messaging your juicy, soaking wet cunt. You've wasted no time in getting ready for him, something that makes his cock strain against his pants.
"D--Doctor," you stammer, hips moving in time to the stroke of his fingers.
"Yes, little mouse?" he muses. A smile tugs at his lips. "Words, dear. Speak concisely."
"I--I--Oh fuck," You close your eyes as he slips a thick finger inside of you, slowly pumping in and out of you.
He hums against your skin, unbuttoning your shirt with his other hand. Scarlet flushes your breasts, glowing skin calling to him as he peppers your skin with open mouth kisses.
You back away from him, moving to sit on his desk. Victor's gaze darkens, watching your skirt ride up your thighs as you spread your legs for him. Your cunt glistens in the light of his office, aching for him.
"P--please, Doctor. I need you," you breath, biting your rosy lips in that desperate way that drives him crazy.
He scoots closer to you, burying his face between your legs. A low whine leaves your lips and he closes his eyes, relishing in the sound and taste of you. His tongue travels through your cunt, exploring your wet core with a care you've never experience. His hands fumble with his belt, unzipping his pants with a sigh. Victor pulls his cock from his pants, slowly pumping himself to the sounds of you unraveling.
You bite the back of your hand, eyes crossing slightly as pleasure shoots up your spine.
Dear God, he eats you like a man starved, hypnotized by your scent, your essence. Your climax swiftly approaches, but just as you begin to crest over that hill, he pulls away. You whimper.
"W--wait!" You pout, chest heaving.
Victor stands, gripping his length in his hand. You pipe down as you take in the sight of him.
He is huge.
Perfectly sized for his large stature, but his cock is thick and long. He taps his cock head against your clit, sending electricity up your spine. Victor lightly thrusts, rubbing his shaft up and down your wet pussy.
"I need you inside me," you say, mouth watering at the slippery sensation.
"You are immaculate, dear," he murmurs, lowering his head to kiss you slowly. The tip of his cock presses into you. "Do you think you can take all of me?"
"A--All of you. Every--" you pause, jaw growing slack at the way you swallow him whole, "--Every inch."
He chuckles, eyebrows furrowing as your sweet cunt takes him in. He presses his forehead to yours and you moan quietly. He lightly thrusts and you gasp.
"Oh fuck, Victor," you whimper.
"Yes, darling," he breathes against you.
Fuck, your cunt takes him so fucking well. He bottoms out, pelvis pressed to yours. The two of you remain still for a moment.
Then he moves.
His cock drags against the walls of your cunt, in and out, striking that glorious spot inside you with an uncanny precision. Your moans fill his office, his ears. You kiss him, desperate to touch as much skin as you can. Your fingers dance around your cunt and you clench around him, head falling back as your orgasm crashes over you.
Victor's hips move on their own. His desk rocks and creaks with the force of his thrusts. He straightens his back, gripping your hips tightly as he sinks into you again and again.
What a sight you are before him. Fingers circling your clit even as you squelch around him, breasts bouncing with every thrust, eyes rolled back into your head from the numbing sensation.
He can't last long. A low, deep moan rumbles in his throat as his orgasm quickly catches up to him. Victor grips your thighs and pushes them forward, folding you into some form of a mating press. You throw your head back against the desk at the new angle, mouth open in an endless cry.
"Ah! Ah! Oh fuck!" you sob, shaking your head, "Fuck, just like that!"
Victor doesn't respond. He can't. His mind has been completely taken over by instinct. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of your juicy cunt triggers something in him, spurred on by the sight of your desperate wanton need. When he comes, it's abrupt, slamming into him with no warning. Victor's hips stutter, thrusting as deep as he possibly can.
"Dear god," he moans, slowly thrusting into you as his cum fills your pussy.
He pulls his cock from you and you gasp. His pupils widen. White, creamy cum dribbles out of your cunt. You breath heavily, looking up at him with an innocent smile.
Victor slowly presses his fingers into you, gently scooping his cum back inside of you. His breathing is uneven. Something has changed. He doesn't respond to you when you call his name.
"Victor? Is everything okay?" You say, swallowing down a moan as he pulls you from the desk.
His large hands handle you roughly, turning you and bending you over the desk.
"We're not done, little mouse. Not done yet," Victor murmurs against your ear. "Not until you're full."
His cock, still hard and leaking, presses into your cunt from behind.
You weren't sure how long Habit had you like this.
The minutes blurred together, so much so that they could've passed for hours. Your body pulled onto his lap, back to his chest with his legs shoved between yours, forcing them apart. An arm around your neck, the crease of his elbow laid against your windpipe in the most suffocating, delicious way; his skin against yours, sweat mixing with sweat. Between his chokehold and the overstimulation, you were light-headed, his fingers pumping in and out of you over and over and over.
His palm hit your clit again and again, the flesh tender and swollen and hot under his touch. He found your g-spot what felt like hours ago. You had been sitting on him, just like this when his fingers grazed it, your head falling back against his shoulders as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp. From then, he homed in on it, the pads of his fingers massaging it in tight circles that punched the air from your lungs. He licked the side of your face, tongue dragging up your skin until his lips met your ear, a clicky purr emitting from him.
"Insatiable little bitch, huh? Just can't get enough." He growled into your ear, each word emphasized with his palm meeting your cunt, his fingers rubbing against your sweet spot, webs of your wetness sticking to his hand and snapping with every pull back. "You're greedy, ya' know that? Huh?" You slap at his hand and wrist to no avail, trying to warn him through whimpers and mindless babbling that something felt off.
"What? You gonna fuckin' piss yourself? C'mon--" You squealed as the orgasm snuck up on you. It was like a release of pressure, like something had popped inside you as you squirted up his wrist and down his thigh.
"Fuckin' filthy," He snickered and spat on the connection of skin, his pace still strong as you wriggled in his grasp, clawing at him like it would make a difference. "Ruined yourself, got me all dirty." He licked at the shell of your ear and your eyes rolled as your brows pinched together, your noises coming out as high-pitched whines, whimpers, and pleading as he continued, pulling another from you, cum running down between your legs and onto the floor below.
"You gonna keep soiling yourself until I stop, Hm?" You shook your head, unable to move it much past his hold, letting out a pathetic, drawn out 'nooooo,' making him click his tongue.
"Oh, but you don't want me to stop, do you?" You shook your head again, a mix of 'yes' and 'no' leaving your lips in whispers as your hips pushed up to chase his hand. He just smiled, canines pressing into your neck,
Living out in the Appalachian mountains your entire life, you’d gotten use to the scary nights, whispering voices, it was nothing you hadn’t gone through before.
Yet..the figure in your bed was new, large and intimidating. Curled around you yet not touching. You’d wake up for just a second to see him, just to fall back asleep after.
Yet he was always there..sometimes this scent would linger in your bed, deep strong..musky. It was oddly..comforting. You’d always lived alone, never dating, you just didn’t have time. and you were kinda..interested in weird things, collecting crystals and bones, your mother was a wickan and unwilling past some of her traits to you.
But with this..figure you always felt less alone..despite anyone who would feel terrified, you..felt like maybe he was protecting you.
Until one late evening, you stayed up later then usual, your cat had snuck out and you had just gotten her, setting her down as you snuffed out the fire in the fireplace. A creak echoed from your loft stairs, your head flew up.
There it was, in the flesh—now obviously a him, he was so much bigger now that he was standing up. He paused, looking back at you once he realized you weren’t in bed like you always were,
In those soft shorts he’d brush his hand again, a large sweater that he always wanted to steal, smelling strongly of your soft feminine scent.
He laid back down like he didn’t care you saw him. you kinda just..stared for awhile, before continuing your nightly routine, walking up the stairs to your loft bedroom, seeing him laying there like always..
You watch, before slowly crawling in, watching his face, laying on your back.
You stared shamelessly—i mean he was in YOUR bed..so you kinda had a right. When you started to notice..
His deep grey skin..Thick messy hair, hid long black nails attached to his big fingers, when his eyes slowly opened-..he had none, deep dark leaking pools. You wanted to be scared honestly..
Not..a little turned on, i mean..you could see his muscles under his baggy clothes, he kinda looked like a large terrifying puppy with a surprisingly sweet personality.
I mean he looked like he’d tear people apart with those claws. Yet..they reached over you to flick off your lamp, yanking you like a ragdoll into his side, his skin surprisingly cold despite being so large.
You..let him. Hold you, like you were merely a stuffed bear in the grasps of a young child.
“What..are you..?”
She whispered. His eyes watched her, the little bunny he’d caught sight off collecting the bones of a long dead deer, he watched from far away, she was..normal, she wore high waisted black pants resembling the ones women would wear in 50s. A warm sweater, you were..soft
Like a little bunny, he liked it. So he stalked you ever since then—which was Two years ago..
Now he held onto you, subtly sniffing your scalp, that soft feminine smell he adored like it was meth.
You were his drug, the operator didn’t even know of his night endeavors. He was sly, quietly whisking anyway to hold you through the night.
He felt you drift asleep in his arms, like you were meant to be there, your skin was so soft..
By morning she expected him to be gone..slowly sitting up..only to see him staring at her underwear, he’d been looking through her things since this morning, he measured it with his hand.
Wow..How small was she.. she sat up, looking at the back of his head.
“What are you doing..?” She whispered, slowly standing up, staring at the back of his head.
He kinda jolted in surprise, despite already knowing she was awake. He still held a pair of pink striped panties with a bear on them—a pair her ex boyfriend bought.
He didn’t answer, because he rarely spoke to begin with, just quietly approaching, pressing his large hand against her stomach, tilting his head, as you finally noticed a slim long tail with a little chunk of fur at the end, shifting lightly as it twitched.
He wrapped his hand around her thigh, looking back up at her.
“You’re definitely just big..” She muttered with a small laugh, as if knowing what he was wondering. He grumbled deeply, nodding quietly.
Why did this feel so..normal..he stared down at the fabric before holding it up to her, suddenly sliding off her shorts and her panties, she gasped softly in surprise as he slid on the cuter panties.
He held her hips, staring at the cute fabric on her, leaning his head down, pressing his face into her thighs.
She smelt so good..her skin was so soft..he could just devour her.
she watched with surprise as he stayed on his knees in from of her, breathing her in like she was fresh air.
“Your..Very cuddly aren’t you..?” she murmured with a small nervous laugh, biting her lip as he grumbled again, like he’d fall back asleep while against her.
Two months passed like that, her little demon man-thing? Honestly she wasn’t sure. Would come every night, and leave in the afternoon.
Yet today..he hadn’t shown up, she waited and waited..but he never did..yet the second you closed your eyes he feel through the window. Whimpering and snarling, a few bullet holes in his side, leaking blood onto your carpet.
You gasped, shooting up and almost falling over, crouching beside him as his face pressed into your neck, gripping your arm, his tail trembling as he pulled you closer, opening his eyeless sockets, looking up at you.
“What happened-..? Where were you? I was worried sick!”
You said, angry, like an annoyed wife, looking at his side as he pulled off his hoodie.
His body was sculpted by gods..covered in old deep scars, his hair thick and dark..oh god..You didn’t even notice the wounds—Eyes tracing the veins leading into his sweats..Before he let out a sound making you realize he was hurt..
You patched him up with shaky hands, as he sat in your bathtub.
“What did you do..?” You murmur as you gently pressed the gauze over all the work you’ve done. He reached down, sliding off his jeans—now just in his boxers.
Oh my god he was purposely torturing you!
His legs were thick and strong..his boxers bunched up, oh my god his dick was the size of your fucking arm.
“Oh my..” you whispered breathlessly, as he reached out to you.
“Naked..” he whispered deep and scratchy, pulling off your shirt—of course you weren’t wearing a bra..Already in your panties hr pulled you onto his lap.
“Jack-..” His sockets traced your body, so pretty and cute..He ran his tongue up your stomach, holding you up high on his chest as he began to lick you all over..
Your breath trembled, hands gripping his shoulder as you arched your back, one of his hands shamelessly grabbing the bugle in his pants, sucking and licking your skin..
Until he found your breasts, small and cute, baby pink nipples he bit onto. Sucking deeply .
Massaging himself as he growled like a wild animal.
You didn’t fuck though..all he wanted to do was taste you, learn you taste like he had your scent, like everything else.
Yet you did sit on his face as he devoured you like a starved animal, thighs covered in deep bite marks, nor little playful nips. No. He was marking you permanently.
He let his tongue slid in and out of you. You hands gripped his hair as his tail slapped and thudded against the porcelain, enjoying this more then you were obviously..
You came on his tongue like it was nothing, his tongue too long, too thick to resist. He’d came in his boxers, once, probably twice.
He’d never imagined love after what happened to him, the betrayal, yet this wasn’t just a simple love, he wanted to protect you, to provide maul anyone who hurt your feelings.
EATIN' SEASON Eyeless jack eating you out during his rut and what he's like during his rut in general
TW!! - NSFW and SFW, fem! Genitalia reader for smut, GN! Reader for the sfw headcannons, oral sex, monster fucking, inhumane body parts, rut mindset, scent kink, munch behavior, overstimulation, multiple tongues, slight bdsm if u squint, overall messy sex
A/n: had a semi different idea for what EJ is like during his rut, also sorry in advance for the cliffhanger for the drabble I didn't wanna make it long😭
SFW HEADCANNONS
Food - definitely bulks up. I feel like his rut would be deep into the winter, thick snow, no leaves, all that jazz. However that proves a problem for food since most people are trying to get away from the cold. So therefore I think he would hunt or kill more people during fall or spring but store a good chunk for the upcoming winter. I also think he'd become more possessive over his food in general? For instance, if someone gets to close while he's eating he'd stiffen up in that 'ready to pounce' fashion, or just growl. I don't think he'll be as picky over what parts of the corpse he'd eat but he'd still prefer kidneys.
attitude and demeanor - EJ is not a very cocky person to begin with, thinks it's stupid and has enough of it (Jeff annoying him on the daily) to not want to boost his ego. But I think he'd be more aware of his potential during his rut, this is where you'll see him probably standing up straighter or having a slightly shorter fuse than usual.
anatomy - obviously gets larger due to bulking, most of it going towards muscle than fat. Might become a few inches taller but that's because he isn't as hunched over as before. Doesn't have terrible posture but you can tell when he's not in rut. Also I think his knot gets bigger but that's for later. Smell and sound senses are practically doubled so he tries to avoid them along with bright lights.
NSFW BLURB + WITH A PARTNER HEADCANNONS
If he has a partner - tells you about it a few weeks before his first rut accompanied by you. Gives you a choice on whether you want to be around for it or not, gives you a full rundown of what might happen. Like his food, he gets very territorial over anything relating to you. You may notice him become more handsy? Not pda directly but his hand usually rests on your hair or your shoulder. Especially if you're talking to another proxy. Dislikes when (if) you wear perfume or cologne, messes with his nose. Since he sniffs you often the fragrance often covers up your natural scent and he gets a tad bit annoyed by it, also it doesn't taste the best when he licks your neck. So, he will most likely cuddle or hover near you when your fresh out of the shower or just finished doing something that made you sweat.
Scenting - only does it when you're having sex, finds it a bit awkward to do it when nothing else is going on. Since he starts to favor your scent, he subconsciously scrunches his nose when he smells someone who isn't you. Some of your shirts go missing because he's stuffed them inside his pillow case, practically drowning them in his scene before returning them back to you when you start looking for them.
Sexual - knot swells, increase of semen production. I think if he did end up getting you pregnant, you'd probably have a liter instead of a singular child, around 4-6 depending on how close you are to his species. Closer in DNA, the more pups you'd have. Also starts to crave you (obviously) but more so in a sense that he really wants to bite you, but morally refuses to do so, therefore he eats more.
-----
The room is hot and everything is starting to get fuzzy.
You weakly claw at the pillows supporting your head, your hips bucking into the beasts mouth that he refuses to let off of you. Slurping away while you squeak hoarsely. You've been going for at least 2 hours and you thighs keep trembling every time one of his tongues circles your clit. As if it wasn't enough that two of them were furiously fucking you even with wet, almost pornographic sounds.
It started off mostly normal, fresh out of the shower, already aware of the pale cannibal waiting to invade every part of your personal space. He watched hungrily as you dried off, staring at your body more that your face, expected. It was late into the winter and you knew it was just best to not bother putting on any clothes, or ones you care about anyway.
But now your legs are over his broad shoulders as you beg for an inch of grace. You knew he could be insatiable but it still surprised you just a bit every time. Ruthless as he dragged orgasms out of you until you passed out.
