𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬

More speed fics since i’m pumping these out 🙏🏽🙏🏽

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A drooling mess. That’s what you were. Knees still on the bed while your face pressed into the carpet. Toes curled as he still suckled at your clit, wet tongue popped off like a suction & he spanked your twitching ass. Nose nudged your asshole when he dipped his tongue into your weeping pussy. You didn’t even notice that you were crying, it felt so good.

He switched from fingering, sucking, kissing & even doing a mix of all, it was too much to keep up with & thats the reason why you were off the bed. He even laughed as you slid downwards since he knew the position made it even easier for him to eat your needy pussy. He pinched & soothed your clit with a kiss, it was torture wrapped in a blanket of love. His lips were so soft & light against your swollen pussy but his fingers & tongue were unforgiving.

If you were too loud, he’d stop. He stopped & asked if you wanted more if you were silent or catching your breath. Overstimulated & fucked-out. Just from his fingers & tongue. He stopped just to look at the mess that he helped create, your thighs were twitching as he licked around your pussy, only to stop again. He gripped your thighs & made them shake, watching as your ass moved & the slick/sticky sound of your own squirt stick your thighs to your pussy. He started to lick, opening your legs wider, back arching higher as he reached down to hold your hand.

dryhumping with domspeed...................

“SLOW & STEADY”

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After a long day, you two finally make it home & the thoughts of being in bed plagued your mind. He helps to take off your shoes & you kick them into the corner. Dragging yourself, you slump through the apartment, soft carpet beneath your feet. He makes his way behind you, trailing behind like a lingering scent. Finally in bed, he lays right next to you.

“Did you have fun?” a warm hand met your hip, “I hope you did, I enjoyed today with you,” he said & brought you closer to him, face to face. You two start talking about your day, the movies, the arcade, the Korean hotpot. Everything. After it all, you couldn’t help but ask if you could lay on him, being side by side wasn’t enough. You two were now lying chest to chest. His heartbeat was a pace off from yours, his breathing was slow & he laughed at you adjusting.

“Comfortable? You keep moving around,” he smiled up at you, he put his hands on your thighs & moved you directly on his lap, “Better?” It was definitely better. You were getting warmer, forgetting that you had on your sweater so you took it off. Your black bra was like a shadow across your chest, the only light in the room came from the outside street lamps & headlights from the cars. You sat up, hands on his chest, his heartbeat fluttered when he saw you, outside light spilled down your chest & shoulders.

The tension between you two were high, after the day you had, full of hugs, glances, accidental bumps & catching eachother staring. It all came crashing down in this one moment. Straddled across his lap, a little grind started. Slow & steady. He followed your rhythm, hips coming up slowly & going down even slower. He was semi-hard, his sweatpants paired well with the fabric of your leggings. Grinding came easily like a breath. Chest to chest, his hands explored your body, biceps twitched against your ribcage, he cupped your ass & guided you up & then down his dick.

Your pussy needed to be fucked, the tension from today was too much & you needed it now. He could read your mind by the way you tangled your fingers into the sheets but he didn’t go through with it. His hips popped as he adjusted, you felt how hard he was through his sweats & he started to take off his shirt. The cool & sudden warmth of the room rested on your spine.

Chest to chest again, the grinding became more intense & needy, an arm across your back & one cupped your ass, he fucked upwards as if he was deep in your needy pussy, grunts & whimpers were everywhere, you two bumped & rubbed as if it was a fight to the death. You felt tingly, knowing you were about to cum so you sat up, hands on his chest.

You were winning the fight until he stopped your hips right when you were about to cum, lifting you. Your knees came together as your orgasm quickly went away. A whine escaped from you, looking down at him with eyes full of need while your legs shook & knees bucked. “Take those off,” he was talking about your leggings. A quick thought of being fucked flashed through your fuzzy mind. Finally. Leggings came off & he sat you down on his lap again.

Your thong was soaked, marking up his sweats over his dick print, he pulled them aside as a tease, he circled a finger to see how wet you were, pussy clenching around nothing. Grinding on him in the cowgirl position, he smiled at you & pulled you down to his chest once again, he kissed your collarbone, all across your tits & nipped at your throat. Breathing increased as the both of you couldn’t control the rhythm anymore, grinding to cum, you didn’t care.

No words were said, the both of you were lost in the moment & looked for an escape but more-so, looking for a release. The bed creaked as you two clashed against one another, he was strong & stable beneath you. The high of being able to finally cum washed over you, breaking free from his arms to fuck yourself on him. Your orgasm neared & you gripped the sheets & increased speed. He rested his hands on your hips, helping you guide & applying more pressure on his print.

“WIND OF LUST”

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A rough beard scratched your forehead, his pulse beat against the tip of your nose, groans seemed like thunder, so close & so personal. You were held tightly to the man, your arms tied above your head, pillow under your lower back, rough & hairy arms wrapped around your back. It was all too much. “I know, baby, I… know” he held his breath & stopped, he was edging himself with your weeping pussy.

His full balls twitched against your asshole & his grip tightened as if to hold himself back from coming too early. Taking him in full made your body jolt since the last thrust was a slam. “Princess, look at me,” his command was low & soft, your eyes fluttered open & he looked right into them. He pulled out, closing your legs & flipping you, “W-What position is this?” But you didn’t get a response. Flat on your stomach. He kissed down your spine, “I just want to please you.”

His big hands were so warm on your hips, cold lips finally made their way to your thighs, like moths fluttering on a hot lamp. He stood up from the bed & pulled you halfway to where your stomach still on the mattress. Rough hands were on your hips & you waited for the stretch of his cock but it never came. “Tell me what you want,” he spoke, his words stayed in the air & rang against your skin. “Hmm?” He pressed against you, the weight of him was subtle.

“Please..” you couldn’t even think of anything else but him. A sting came, he spanked you. Again & again. “Answer me.” He cupped your ass, thick & calloused fingers against the stinging pink area. Your head fell down into the sheets, “Since you can’t think of anything, I will.” Your pussy clenched at the thought of whatever he’d do, as long as he fucked you.

He yanked you upwards by the wrists, nipples were peaked, he was angry, you could tell by his breathing that he was annoyed. “Sit,” he commanded while holding you by your face, your knees met the rug below. He left the room & came back shortly after with a blindfold & candle. It confused you, “What is this for?” You struggled with the ropes on your wrists.

“Don’t worry, I will tell you,” he soothed as he wrapped the blindfold tight. “I think you’ll enjoy it once we start.” The darkness enveloped you once more & losing your senses, it heightened everything other one. The smell of wax came first, then hearing him light it. Your skin prickled with excitement as you heard him take steps around you. They stopped & you couldn’t pinpoint where. “Come find me,” he said while closing the door. Slowly, you crawled around.

While on your knees, he dripped the wax on your back, the sudden sensation was immediately gone & soothed then a finger made its way through your sex, not entering, just testing. Immediately, you turned & tried to feel around for him but he lifted his leg just in time to get away. He stepped to the right of you & stayed, no movement so you made your way to him.

He was on the desk. You felt his legs & he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You caught me,” he chuckled & lifted you. You switched places, he trickled the wax down your spine & dripped it on your shoulders. The stinging heat went away as soon as it came, it was too much. As he dripped the wax, “I would love to see the look on your face,” a hand made its way around your throat, “If only I could.”

Finally, the press & stretch of his dick finally came & his hand squeezed tighter as you moaned & buckled from the curve passing your spongy g-spot. His unforgiving hand held your head up by your throat as he slowly pulled out & slammed back in, “You loved our little game, hm?” You couldn’t speak. He dripped wax down your hip, it burned & cooled down your thighs. “You don’t have to answer that. You can’t see but you can hear me,” he increased his speed, pelvis popped against ass, heavy balls sticking slightly to your clit.

“You just need my voice,” he said, directly in your ear as he increased the pressure & speed. You let out an exasperated sigh as he let go of your throat & pulled you by the ropes binding your wrists, his speed never changing. Your knees buckled & eyes rolled as he slammed one more time & came right into your pussy. His dick twitched, he breathed heavily against your shoulder, groaning & thrusting slightly, being sure to not let any drop go to waste. As you twitched, he let you fall forward.

how speed would facefuck reader 🤤

No title, straight into it

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Even while he was streaming, you wanted every drop of cum down your throat, kissing his shaft & rubbing his calves & thighs. He tried to keep his composure while playing a game & mainly, streaming. He ended stream early, “Sorry guys, extra upload sometime soon?” He slammed his fists against the desk while sucking his teeth as you gripped his pulsing cock & kissed his tip.

He gripped the base of your skull & made you take the entirety of him. As his dick throbbed deep in your throat, his thighs twitched & he fucked himself using your mouth. Spit & saliva covered his shorts, his chair squeaked & the sounds of need slipped out of him as he continued facefucking you. He stopped & stood up, leaning over his desk, elbows planted. This made him go deeper, his shorts slipped down & his balls pat against your chin.

You choked & your spit trickled down your throat. He fucked deep, like your mouth was a pussy, he groaned & became even needier, opening his legs wider while his thrusts became smaller, dick sitting in your throat as he stopped once more. “You can’t keep doing this to me,” he huffed out, the sweat from his chest dripped down onto his keyboard.

He was covered in sweat, taking off his shirt, he tied it to your throat & continued. You felt your own orgasm building just from having your throat fucked & you played with your pussy with one hand on his abs. The sounds of his need became louder as he was closer & closer to coming, thighs twitched in preparation, abs tightening as he finally came down your throat, balls finally having a release, finally.

“TASTE OF REBELLION”

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The rings on his fingers added to the sensation that made your back arch up from the pool table. His tongue was wet & warm against your sex. Your hips jerked in anticipation at the friction of his teeth against your clit as he pulled away to suck on your nipple.

He worked greedily, his teeth flashed after a hungry smile, his chest rose & fell like a dehydrated dog. His chin & lips dripped with your arousal, he wanted more. He sucked your sternum, kissing lower until he made it down to your clit.

It pulsed under his tongue, you were so close to climax that it hurt. You were going to come, but you needed him inside you first. You couldn't wait any longer. “Oh god,” you whimpered. “Please…” You didn't want to beg for anything. You didn't want his dick inside of you, not if you weren't about to cum. You didn't want him to stop. You wanted this to go on forever. You wanted it more than ever before. He laughed at your neediness as he cupped your face, “Do you think you deserve it?” a glint of his teeth showed, it punctuated his sentence.

He looked into your face, his rings cold against hot skin, his body hot against yours. His hands were rough against your neck & shoulders, your breasts felt heavy & tender with his hands holding them up as he fucked you with his mouth. You moaned, the sound caught in your throat.

He moved down your throat, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of desire & lust, the same look he had given you when you told him to fuck you. He licked your neck, his lips grazed you ear, “You’re a whore, my beautiful fucking whore. You don’t know how much of me you own. So, do me, make me yours.”

You didn’t know what to do. “My, look at you. You are so beautiful,” You knew that you deserved it & that if he didn't fuck you soon then it will never happen. An idea came to mind, “Lay down,” you demanded him, his eyes brightened up at your command. He put his hands up & laid down on the pool table.

You unbuttoned his pants, keeping them that way, grinding on top of him, never letting his dick feel the wetness of your soaked panties. It’s lace tugged in his zipper, “Take them off,” you commanded once more but you put his hands over his head when he tried to pull them off.

“No, your teeth.” He slides down the table, hands still above his head & he kissed your inner thighs, you sat down quickly, his chest sank in excitement as he realized what happened. You grind against his face, his nose nudging your clit. You reach under to pull your panties aside as his tongue immediately dipped in.

You rode his face, the sound of a wet tongue sliding into a needy pussy filled the air, still holding his hands, you plant your feet & rode his tongue like it was a dick, the force of you coming down could have broken his nose. You stopped & grinded but his tongue still lapped, it reached a little deeper, the sensation snapped through you, you were close.

“FACELESS IMPRINT”

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The forest is a maze of fog & silence. Trees lean in like they’re listening. Your flashlight died an hour ago, but you kept walking, drawn by the tall figure that kept appearing just out of sight. No face, just smooth white skin stretched over an impossible height. Suit immaculate, tie straight, as if the woods couldn’t touch him.

Now he’s right in front of you. Close enough that the air feels thick, charged. Black tendrils unfurl slowly from his back, moving like smoke given weight. They brush your arms, your waist, cool & slick. One coils loosely around your throat, not squeezing, just holding. Another slips under your shirt, tracing your ribs with quiet slowness.

You should run. Instead you sink to your knees in the damp leaves.

The static in your head swells, not words, just pressure. A command you feel in your bones: stay.

Your clothes loosen & slide away under careful tendrils until you’re bare under the moonlight. More tendrils appear, gliding over your skin, teasing your nipples into hard peaks, rubbing slow circles around your clit, dipping between your folds without ever pushing inside. They leave cool trails that heat instantly, making you shiver & ache.

A thicker tendril presses against the side of your neck. Your skin ripples under it, stretching as his blank, faceless shape begins to imprint, smooth oval rising beneath the surface like a living brand. It pulses gently, matching the throb between your legs.

From the front of his suit, two pale shafts emerge—long, thick, featureless white with subtle ridges. They curve toward you, tips already glistening. One nudges your entrance while the other slides along your slit, rubbing in sequence with the tendrils. The pressure builds slow & relentless, both heads easing inside your cunt together, stretching you wide, filling you full.

Your belly extends visibly, two smooth bulges shifting under skin as they sink deeper. Tendrils wrap your thighs, holding you open while others tease your clit & nipples in endless circles. The neck imprint throbs harder, sending waves of static pleasure straight to your core.

You come hard, body shaking, slick coating the shafts & tendrils. They pulse in response, flooding you with thick, warm cum that overflows & drips down your thighs. The imprints on your neck & belly glow faintly before fading, leaving faint raised marks that tingle long after.

“Otherworldly Ecstasy”

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The grass field is the same one, tall, wild & sun-baked, where you first found him years ago, silver hair tangled in clover, claiming he was a spaceship. Now, Mikitaka sits cross-legged in the center, shirt unbuttoned, skin shimmering faint iridescent under the noon glare. He’s poking a ladybug, head tilted like it’s the strangest thing in the universe.

You wander up, shorts & tank, sweaty from walking Morioh’s backroads. “Mikitaka? Again with bothering the animals?” You joke, smiling a little.

He blinks, huge hazel eyes innocent, curious. “Oh! Earthling friend! This field has the best electromagnetic resonance. Very… tingly.” He pats the ground beside him. “Sit! I am observing mating rituals of insects. Fascinating!”

You drop down, laughing. “You’re always observing something weird.”

He tilts his head. “Weird? On my planet, we simply merge forms. But humans… you use genitals, yes?” His gaze drops to your lap from pure curiosity, no shame. “May I see? For research.”

You choke. “Hm! What?”

“Please,” he says, his eyes are earnest. “I wish to understand pleasure. You taught me ice cream. Teach me this.”

Heat floods your cheeks, Morioh heat mixed with Mikitaka heat. You glance around, no one for miles. “Fine. But… can you, uh, make it interesting? Like… two?”

His eyes light up. “Two? Oh! Like an octopus?” He shifts, skin rippling silver-green, lower body morphing. Pants dissolve into scales, then reform into two cocks rising, thick, ridged, pale teal, both leaking clear fluid. Perfectly identical, curved upward, throbbing in sync.

“Is this correct?” he asks, innocent. “Octopus have many. Two is efficient!”

You straddle him, grass tickling your knees, cicadas deafening. His hands, now faintly suction-cupped, grip your hips, curious. You sink, one cock sliding into your cunt, the other nudging your ass. The stretch is insane, alien ridges pulsing like tentacles.

“Oh!” he gasps, eyes wide. “This feels… electromagnetic! Your orifices are contracting!”

You laugh-moan, grinding. Grass stains your skin green, blades scraping as he thrusts, curious & experimental. The second cock probes deeper, suction cups latching inside, tugging gently.

“Is this mating?” he asks, tilting head. “On my planet, we share memories. Here, you share fluids?”

You nod, riding harder, both holes were stuffed, ridges vibrating. He morphs again, cocks lengthening, tentacle-coiling inside, brushing every nerve. Suction cups pulse, milking your walls, G-spot & prostate equivalent at once.

“Fascinating! Your temperature rises! Fluids increase!” His voice glitches, innocent awe cracking into moans. Grass crushes beneath you, staining your thighs, his scales shimmering with sweat.

You come hard, squirting around both cocks, soaking the field. He follows, dual loads, thick alien cum glowing faint blue, overflowing, staining grass silver.

He blinks, still inside. “Again? Humans mate multiple times? Octopus lay eggs once. Inefficient!”

You laugh, collapsing into the grass, spent, stained & full, Mikitaka nuzzles your neck, curious tongue tasting sweat.

“ON AIR”

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“Max.. oh m- I.. please..” your pussy was a throbbing mess, overstimulated & puffy as he slaps his sticky cock against your ass. “Look at the mess you made on me already,” he said, a smirk in his voice.

“Also, you’ve still got half an hour until your shift starts so I guess that’s fine too,” You groan, trying to get away but he held you in place, opening your legs wider, the warm air enveloping your swollen pussy. “Look at her, I wish you could see how beautiful she is,” he pats your clit with his dick.

He holds your head up with a forearm around your throat, his nose was nuzzled against your ear, “If it weren’t for my job…” your breath caught as you felt a stretch, all the way. “I would have fucked her before I streamed.” He kisses your jawline & you whimper.

You feel him pull out of you, it makes you exhale & then suddenly there’s a weight on your back. His hands guided you down onto your stomach, his knees at your hips. “Oh my… look at this pretty ass,” his face pressed into your back & you felt yourself flush. “You’re such a good girl... so obedient & compliant. It drives me crazy knowing you’re only mine,” he kissed your shoulder.

The same stretch but only deeper came back, the sweat dripped from him as his cock pulsed, hot & commanding. Your hands gripped his arm to help hold yourself up, your ass was shaking as he slid slowly into you once more. Your moans were muffled by his skin as he thrust in & out again, faster, harder, making you arch your back, your nails biting into his biceps.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the slick of your arousal covered his dick & painted his nuts. “You hear that? Mmm...” he kisses you softly on the neck as you gasp. “That’s the sound of your sweet pussy giving me all those orgasms.” He grips your hair & slam fucks you, having no time to react.

The speed was too much, his cock knocked on your bellybutton as you take him in full, his hips popped against your ass & he bit into your shoulder as he pumped hard into your pussy. “Fuck… Fuck!!” His grip tightened, one hand tangled in your hair, forearm around your throat.

He was animalistic. Your pussy sang for his cock, he forced your legs open & her song was loud & clear, your fingers were digging into his arms, your head thrown back, screaming with pure ecstasy. “Yea? is this you.. fuck.. begging? I can’t hear you,” he growls, slamming hard into your tight pussy. “Yes… yes… yes… fuck!”

What were you even saying. Your head fell down, not having any strength left in you, your body went numb & limp. He rested his head against your shoulder as he slowed his pace, panting hard & heavy. “I know you want to come. I told you, you’re only mine,” his voice deepened, rumbling through you like thunder.

“Mine, all mine,” he repeated. His grip loosened & he pulled himself out to flip you on your back, he rests your legs on his shoulders but a sound came from his computer & instinctively, “Thanks for the donati-“ his eyes widened.

no title, straight into it since I do this for the love of the game

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His body tensed, his breathing was heavy & jagged as you ruined his orgasm once again. He bit back a scream of frustration in his throat & tried to push the images out of his mind, but that only left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Come on, I know I can get it this time,” you teased as he writhed beneath you, desperately trying to hold onto his orgasm. “Oh god.. I know you feel so good,” You whispered against his lips with a smile on your face. His breathing hitched. A small moan escaped him as his climax began to build up inside of him. “You always want me,” you said softly, stroking his jawline gently with your index finger as you slowly rolled off of him.

The heat from his dick still lingered on your hand, his eyes were glossy, full of want & his abs flexed as his balls twitched. “Please..” he had no energy to lift his head “Come back here..” he begged & pulled at your hips roughly, making you stumble backwards until he caught you by your waist. “Please…please don’t go.”

Your breath hitched as you felt yourself begin to tremble involuntarily, sitting directly on his lap, panties soaked with his precum which seemed sticky enough to hold you two together. Taking the opportunity, you slide your panties to the side & tease him.

You felt his dick twitch against your ass while his hands shook with excitement at your hips. You could tell he wanted more from you when you turned your head to look at his flushed face. You had other plans for him, smiling down at him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

His eyes left your back dimples as soon as you turned, his expression was filled with lust & passion. “I love you. Please… don’t leave. I need you…” his fingers curled tightly around your hipbone as he adjusted underneath you. You could smell his scent, the strong aroma of arousal & desire mixed into one sweet, masculine scent.

Your heart hammered against your rib cage, with his words, you took ahold of his dick & started to stroke him slowly, your thumb pressing against the tip gently. You moved faster & faster, your chest rising with each pump, your ass bounced slightly as you continued.

You felt his grip tighten on you & knew he was near. When you felt the first rope shoot out on your pussy, you lined up & pressed his dick inside. He gasped & clenched his fists. You rode him, forcing him deeper by leaning down & holding onto his legs.

His teeth gritted as he spat out, “Fuck... huhhh...yes!” a ring of cum formed, it made a slick & sticky sound as it slid down his shaft. You felt him grow even harder inside & you groaned, holding tight to his thighs. He bucked forward, making you arch your back, pushing your breasts upwards. You could tell he needed more. With every move you made, his cock pulsed harder.

The sound of your ass slamming down against his pelvis became louder, you felt his cock growing hotter as you fucked yourself down on his dick. Your body began to shake violently, sweat dripped from both your armpits & down the sides of your neck. His eyes widened at your sudden orgasm. Your eyes closed, you let him fill you to the brim.

“WRAPPED IN PURPLE”

PAIRING: Joseph Joestar x F!Reader (you’re the Speedwagon Foundation agent who lost a bet in the Cairo safehouse)

KINKS: Fisting • Deep fingering • Hermit Purple vine restraints • Teasing overload

WC: ~850 | MOOD: Cairo safehouse, midnight, ceiling fan creaking, Nile breeze slipping through cracked shutters

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The safehouse bedroom is a mess of maps, empty beer cans & one very smug Joseph Joestar. He’s sprawled on the bed in nothing but his striped scarf & that shit-eating grin, Hermit Purple lazily coiled around the headboard like purple party streamers. You’re already naked, wrists bound above your head by those glowing vines, tight enough to bite, loose enough to squirm.

“Lost the bet, sweetheart,” he chuckles, voice all Brooklyn bravado. “Now you gotta let old Joseph show you what these hands can really do.”

He crawls between your thighs, big palms spreading you wide. Two fingers slide in first, easy, curling just to watch you arch. “Still so wet from earlier. Good girl.”

Hermit Purple tightens playfully around your wrists when you tug, making you gasp. Joseph grins wider. “Easy, easy. We’re just getting started.”

He adds a third finger, then a fourth, slow, scissoring wide. His knuckles stretch you deliciously, thumb circling your clit in lazy figure-eights. You’re dripping down his wrist already, hips rolling to meet every twist.

“Goddamn, listen to that,” he groans, pumping deeper. “Your pussy’s singing for me.”

You whine his name; the vines pulse in response, sending little sparks of Ripple energy tingling through your arms. He laughs, low & filthy. “You like that? Hermit Purple says you’re ready for the main event.”

He tucks his thumb in, folds his hand tight & pushes. Slow, relentless, eyes locked on yours the whole time. The stretch burns so good, your walls fluttering, trying to take him. His knuckles pop past the ring, wrist sliding in smooth. You’re full as his fist curls inside, pressing every sensitive spot at once.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, voice cracking with awe. “Look at you. Taking my whole damn hand like a champ.”

He starts to move, tiny twists at first then gentle thrusts, forearm flexing. Every shift nudges your G-spot, his knuckles grinding in slow circles. Hermit Purple loosens just enough to let your hips buck, then tightens again, pinning you for the ride.

“Feel that, baby?” He leans down, scarf brushing your breasts, lips at your ear. “That’s me all the way inside. Your cunt’s gripping me tighter than my stand.”

You’re babbling “Please, more, Joseph, fuck...” tears pricking your eyes from the intensity. He speeds up, fist pumping steady, free hand rubbing your clit in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds are obscene, echoing off the walls.

“Come on,” he coos, grinning like a bastard. “Come all over my fist. Let me feel it.” His laugh was taunting, his eyes lowered as it came to an end, he wanted you to cum & he wanted you to do it now.

You shatter, walls clamping down, squirting around his wrist in messy pulses. He keeps moving through it, drawing out every aftershock until you’re shaking, gasping, completely undone.

Only then does he ease out, slowly, kissing your thighs, your belly, your tear-streaked cheeks. Hermit Purple unwinds, gently lowering your arms. He pulls you into his chest, scarf draping over both of you like a blanket.

“Best damn bet I ever won,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “Next time, we film it. For research, obviously.”

You laugh, boneless against him, the fan still creaking overhead & the Nile whispering outside. Totally, utterly wrecked & already looking forward to losing again.

“MIDNIGHT DEVOTION”

PAIRING: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark x F!Reader (you’re the late-night groupie who followed her backstage)

KINKS: Sloppy lesbian sex • Cunnilingus • Nail scratches • Lipstick stains • Chain restraint • Rough raw dirty talk

WC: ~850 | MOOD: Backstage dressing room after the show, black velvet curtains, candle wax dripping, mirror fogged with breath

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The dressing room door slams shut. Elvira turns the lock with a slow click, her black nails glinting under the vanity bulbs. She’s still in full stage makeup, her pale skin, blood-red lips, that signature black dress clinging like a second skin. You’re already on your knees in front of her, heart hammering, the crowd’s cheers still echoing faintly through the walls.

She tilts your chin up with one long nail, dragging it lightly down your throat. “Look at you,” she purrs, voice low & smoky. “All wet & desperate just from watching me on stage. Delicious.”

Her other hand tangles in your hair & yanks your head back. “Open,” she orders. You do. She leans down & spits straight into your waiting mouth. “Swallow it like a good little groupie.”

You do. She smiles sharply then shoves you backward onto the velvet chaise. Chains rattle from the wall & she loops them around your wrists quick & tight, securing you spread-eagle. The metal is cool against your skin, but her body heat is immediate when she climbs over you.

“Spread your legs wider,” she growls. “Show Mistress what she owns tonight.”

You obey. She drops between your thighs, dress riding up, stockings whispering. Her red lips hover just above your clit, her breath was teasing, smiling up at you, then she dives in. No warm-up. Tongue flat & greedy, lapping from entrance to clit in one long, sloppy stroke. She moans into you, vibration ripping through your core.

“Fuck, you taste like trouble,” she rasps against your folds, voice muffled & filthy. “Sweet little cunt dripping for me already. How many times did you touch yourself thinking about this?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. She sucks your clit hard, lips, teeth & tongue working in messy, relentless rhythm. Her long black nails dig into your inner thighs, scratching deep, red lines blooming across your skin. The sting makes you buck, she pins your hips down with one forearm, growling.

“Stay still or I’ll chain your ankles too,” she warns, then dives back in. Her tongue fucks into you, sloppy, wet, curling, while her thumb rubs harsh circles over your clit. Lipstick smears everywhere, crimson streaks on your thighs, your mound, your swollen lips. She pulls back just to spit on your cunt, watching it drip before licking it up again.

“Beg for it,” she demands, nails raking down your stomach, leaving welts that burn so good. “Beg Mistress to let you come on her tongue.”

“Please—Elvira—pl…please let me come—fuck, I need it—”

She laughs, dark, throaty & then clamps her mouth over you again. Sucks hard. Tongue flicks fast. Nails dig into your ass, pulling you tighter against her face. You’re grinding against her now, desperate & shameless, chains rattling with every thrust of your hips.

“Come,” she growls into your pussy. “Come like the needy little slut you are.”

You shatter, back arching off the chaise, screaming her name, squirting messily across her chin & lips. She doesn’t stop, lapping every drop, smearing more lipstick stains as she works you through it, tongue relentless until you’re trembling & overstimulated.

Finally she pulls back, face glistening, red lipstick smeared from nose to chin. She licks her lips slow, eyes locked on yours.

“Such a good girl,” she purrs, crawling up to kiss you deep, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. “But we’re not done. Mistress still hasn’t had her fill.”

She reaches for the chains again, wrapping one loosely around your throat like a collar.

“Round two, baby. This time you’re eating me until I stain your face too.”

The candles flicker lower. The night is far from over.

“HIDDEN BREATH”

PAIRING: The Blind Man aka Norman Nordstrom x F!Reader (you’re the girl who broke in thinking the house was empty)

KINKS: Body worship • Slow kissing • Deep fingering • Licking & tasting • Sensory overload from sound & touch • Blindfold tease (his advantage) • Orgasm control

WC: ~920ish | MOOD: Pitch-black house at 2:47 a.m., floorboards creaking under bare feet, rain tapping the windows like fingertips, his steady breathing is the only clock

——————————————————————————

Rain drummed on the roof. You slipped the lock. The house smelled of old wood, gun oil & something faintly metallic. You made it three steps past the foyer before the floor creaked under your sneaker.

He was already there.

Not rushing. Not angry. Just waiting at the top of the stairs in his black long-sleeve & cargo pants, head tilted slightly like he was listening to music only he could hear. No eyes visible behind the dark lenses he sometimes wore indoors. Just that calm, unreadable face.

“You’re louder than you think,” he said, voice low & even. “Your heartbeat gave you away before your shoe did.”

You froze. He started down the stairs, slowly with one hand trailing the banister. You backed up until your shoulders hit a wall. He stopped two feet away. Close enough you could smell the clean cotton of his shirt & the faint leather of his belt.

“I want to know why you came here,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “Why?” Your mouth was dry. “I—I don’t know.”

He stepped closer. One hand lifted, fingers brushing your cheek, then sliding back to cradle the base of your skull. He tilted your head like he was reading braille.

“Liar,” he murmured. “I can hear it. Your pulse jumped when I got close. You’re scared… there’s something else.” His thumb pressed lightly over your lips. “Reach in my pocket. You know what to do with it.”

You hadn’t planned to but your hands moved anyway, pulling the black silk from his pocket, tying it over your own eyes. Darkness swallowed everything. Now you were the one blind. Now you understood why he liked it.

“Good girl,” he said. The words landed soft & heavy.

He didn’t grab. Didn’t shove. Just guided you with a big hand on your lower back until you were walking backward down the hall. Your shoulders hit a doorway. He nudged you inside. A bedroom. You smelled clean sheets & cedar.

He pressed you against the wall, gentle but unyielding. His body caged yours without crushing. You felt the heat of him through his shirt. Felt the steady rise & fall of his chest.

“I’m going to feel you,” he said. “Everywhere. Slowly. You’re going to stay quiet until I tell you otherwise. Nod if you understand.”

You gulped, it caught in your throat as you looked in the eyes of the blind man, he stared right through you as you nodded.

His fingers started at your throat, his rough finger tracing the flutter of your pulse. Down over your collarbone. He hooked the neckline of your shirt & tugged it aside. Lips followed, they were soft at first, then firmer. Kissing the hollow of your throat. The slope of your shoulder. Slow open-mouthed kisses that left faint wet marks.

He peeled your shirt up & off, like unwrapping something fragile. Your bra came next, clasps undone with practiced ease. Breasts warm to the cool air. His palms covered them, warm & rough thumbs circling your nipples until they ached.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “So responsive.”

He kissed lower & lower, sternum, ribs, stomach—slow, worshipping every inch. Tongue dipping into your navel, making you shiver. He dropped to his knees, his hands sliding down your sides, mapping hips, thighs.

He pulled your pants & panties down together, lifting one foot, then the other. You were bare. His hands slid up the backs of your thighs, his thumbs brushing the crease where leg met ass. He spread you gently.

Then his mouth.

He started with kisses, open-mouthed & along the crease of your thigh. Up one side. Down the other. Avoiding your center until you were trembling. When he finally licked, it was a long, flat stroke from entrance to clit that made you jolt but he held your hips steady.

“Stay,” he said against your abdomen, planting a kiss. “Let me taste you.”

He licked again but deeper. Tongue parting you, exploring every fold. He moaned low & it vibrated down your thighs. He sucked your clit gently then harder—then gentle again. He was teasing & building but never letting you crest.

You were shaking. Hips rolling. Begging without words.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your swollen clit.

“Beg me properly.”

“Please—” your voice cracked. “Please let me come—please—”

“Not yet.”

He stood up & kissed you deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. One hand slid between your legs & two fingers pushed inside slowly. Thumb on your clit, building you right back to the edge.

You sobbed into his mouth. “Please—sir—I can’t—”

“You can,” he said. “You will. Until I say.”

He added a third finger, stroking that spot that made your knees buckle. His other hand cupped your breast, thumb flicking your nipple. Kissing you through every whimper & every plea.

When you were right there, right on the edge, he stopped. Fingers still inside & big thumb still on your clit. Just… holding.

You cried out, frustrated & desperate.

“Shh,” he soothed. Kissed your tears. “You’re beautiful when you’re desperate.”

He started again, bringing you to the brink five more times. Each time pulling back at the last second. Your legs were jelly. Voice hoarse. Body trembling.

Finally, when you were babbling nonsense, he pressed his forehead to yours. “Come,” he whispered. “Now.”

His fingers curled hard. Thumb pressed firm. You shattered, walls clamping, gushing around his hand. He worked you through it, slow & steady, drawing out every pulse until you were limp against him.

He withdrew gently & kissed your temple. “Good girl,” he murmured. “So good for me.”

He carried you to the bed, the sheets were cool against your overheated skin. He pulled the blanket over you, your body relaxed while he kissed your forehead one last time.

“Stay,” he said. “Rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nodded because you were too wrecked to speak.

The door clicked shut.

⚠️ 18+ / MDNI / DEAD DOVE / William & Jackson are the Southern hunters & you’re the prey they chose

——————————————————————————

“WILLING MEAT”

PAIRING: William & Jackson x F!Reader (you’re the one who wandered into their trap on purpose)

KINKS: Knife kink • Degradation • Double penetration • Filthy raw Southern dialogue • Impact spanking • Blood licking • Bondage & tying up • Old camcorder recording • Solo turns (warehouse → dragged to truck → Cottonwood farmhouse laundry room → upstairs rec room with pool table → garden)

WC: ~2200+ | MOOD: Abandoned warehouse outside Baton Rouge at midnight → truck ride through backroads -> Cottonwood farmhouse laundry room at 1 a.m. → upstairs rec room with pool table & TV across from their bedroom → garden under porch light, humid air thick with cicadas & motor oil

——————————————————

You shouldn’t have come back.

You knew better after last time. Knew the second you saw Jackson’s truck parked crooked in the driveway & William’s silhouette moving behind the screen door that you were walking into trouble. But your feet still carried you through the side gate, past the rusted swing set, straight to the warehouse door they always leave cracked when they know you’re coming.

The warehouse smells like old motor oil & rust. Moonlight bleeds through cracked windows. Chains hang from the rafters like forgotten decorations. William’s already leaning against a stack of crates, arms crossed, knife flipping slow between his fingers. Older. Taller. Broader. The kind of thick that makes your thighs clench just looking at him. Jackson’s perched on an overturned barrel, legs swinging lazy, camcorder in his lap, old silver thing with the red record light blinking like a heartbeat.

William’s voice rolls out first, low & syrup-slow. “Well look who came crawlin’ back, darlin’.”

Jackson laughs, boyish & mean. “Told ya she’d show. Little slut can’t stay away.” You swallow. Voice comes out small. “I—I just wanted to—”

“Wanted to what?” William cuts in, stepping forward. Knife stops twirling. Blade flat against your cheek now—cold, “Wanted to get fucked stupid again? Wanted us to tie ya up & make ya cry for us, pretty? Say it, sugar.”

Your knees shake. “Yes—please.”

Jackson hops off the barrel. “Louder, darlin’. We like hearin’ ya beg real sweet.”

“Please, fuck me stupid again!” Your words came out in a yell, voice cracking & slipping. William’s free hand grips your jaw. “That’s our good girl.”

Jackson grabs a length of chain from the wall. “Hands behind ya, sugar. Let’s get ya trussed up real nice.”

You turn. Chain loops your wrists, cold links biting skin, not so tight it cuts but tight enough you feel every tug. Jackson yanks once, you stumble back against his chest. He laughs low in your ear.

“Gonna record every second this time. Wanna see that pretty face when ya break.”

William’s knife drags down your sternum, light, no blood yet—just enough sting to make your nipples pebble under your tank top. “Strip her slow, little brother. I wanna watch.”

Jackson’s hands are rougher than William’s. Grabbing the hem of your tank, yanking it up & over your head. Bra next. Clasped in front, easy to rip open. Breasts spill out. He palms them hard, thumbs flicking nipples. “Goddamn look at these tits. Bouncin’ already & we ain’t even started.”

William steps in—knife tracing one areola, slow circle. “Perfect.” Blade flat now, he presses just enough to leave a thin white line that blooms pink. You gasp. He leans down & followed his tongue along the line, licking slow. Faint copper blooms on his tongue. “Sweet little bleedin’ thing,” he purrs. “Tastes like pure fuckin’ surrender.”

Jackson’s behind you—hands on your shorts, shoving them down with your panties in one rough pull. You step out. Naked now except the chain. Jackson kicks your legs wider. “Spread for us, darlin’. Show big brother that drippin’ little cunt.”

William drops to one knee—knife set aside for now. His hands grip your thighs & spread you further. Breathing hot against your sex. “Look at this pretty pussy. Already swollen & wet for us.” His tongue drags once—long, flat & tasting. You moan. He pulls back. “Not yet. You don’t come til’ we say.”

Jackson’s laugh is dark. “She’s gonna be beggin’ in just a few minutes.” They don’t let you come in the warehouse. William grabs the chain leash—yanks you forward. “Upstairs, darlin’. We ain’t done playin’ yet.”

Jackson’s hand fists your hair, half guiding, half dragging. You stumble, half-walk, half-crawl across the gritty floor, out the side door, into the humid night. Jackson’s truck is parked close, his tailgate down. William shoves you into the back seat—chain still binding your wrists. Jackson climbs in behind, camcorder rolling.

“Smile for the road trip, sugar,” he says, slapping your ass as you crawl across the bench seat.

The drive is short in the backroads, no lights, cicadas screaming through the open windows. Louisiana heat beaming through the night. William’s driving was slow & deliberate. Jackson’s fingers were tracing welts on your thighs, teasing without mercy.

“Ya like ridin’ in chains, darlin’?” Jackson asks, voice thick. “Makes ya wetter, don’t it?” You whimper. “Please, I want it now..” William glances in the rearview. “Save it, sugar. We got all night.”

They pull up to the Cottonwood farmhouse, the old, sagging porch, it’s light buzzing yellow. Jackson drags you out, chain leash in hand. Across the gravel, up the steps, through the screen door. Inside smells like pine & gun oil. Laundry room first, washer & dryer humming, same as the warehouse but warmer, lived-in.

Jackson shoves you against the washer, chest to metal, still warm from a load. William’s behind you with his knife back out, tracing your spine. “Spread your legs, darlin’.”

You do. Jackson ties the chain to the washer handle, short enough you can’t straighten up. William’s hand cracks across your ass hard. “Count.”

“One.. thank you.”

They take turns spanking & soothing, licking faint welts. William’s tongue drags over one red line slowly, tasting the tiny bead of blood that wells. “Sweet little bleedin’ darlin’,” he purrs. “Tastes like heaven.”

Jackson’s fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles while William spanks. “She’s soakin’ the floor already,” Jackson laughs. “Greedy little thing.” They don’t let you come.

William yanks the chain. “Upstairs. Pool table’s waitin’.” They drag you. Half-walk, half-crawl, across the living room, up the creaky stairs, past their bedroom door, straight into the rec room. Old pool table under a single hanging bulb, TV in the corner flickering static. The camcorder’s already set up, it’s red light blinking.

Jackson shoves you face-down across the green felt. Ass up. Wrists still chained. William ties your ankles to the table legs, spreading you wide. “Perfect,” William says. “Stay right there, darlin’.” Jackson adjusts the camcorder, angled to catch everything. “Smile for the home video, sugar.”

William’s hand cracks across your ass once again, this time it was harder. “Count.”

“One.. thank you.”

By fifteen, your ass is glowing red, thighs trembling. Jackson kneels behind you—tongue tracing one welt, then biting. You yelp. He licks the faint copper taste. “Sweet little bleedin’ peach.”

William unties your ankles & then flips you onto your back. Legs spread wide again, tied to the corners. He climbs onto the table, kneels between your thighs. Knife back in hand, blade flat against your mound. “Gonna carve my initials right here one day,” he says, tapping the knife just right above your pussy. “But tonight I just wanna taste.”

He leans down, his tongue plunging deep, fucking you with it while Jackson records. Your moaning was loud & broken. “Please!” You buck, head shooting up & chest heaving, locking eyes with Jackson as he records.

“Not yet,” William growls against your clit. Sucks hard. Stops. “Beg prettier, darlin’.”

“Oh my god!” His tongue lapped hungrily at your tired pussy. “William.. Jackson.. I’m your good girl, I’ll be s-so good!” Jackson laughs. “Hear that? She’s our good girl now.”

William pulls back & climbs higher. His cock’s out—thicker than your wrist, longer than you remember, heavy & veined. “You want this, sugar? I want you to tell me.”

The sudden fade of pleasure made your eyes focus on the big man in front of you, 6’3, well over 220 pounds. His thick forearms, his arm hair, the hair on his chest, scarred skin. The big country man huffed at you, “My pretty girl, you love being treated like this. ‘Cuz you deserve it.”

He slams in deep, stretching you wide. You scream but his calloused, rough hand clamps around your mouth. He doesn’t move yet, he just lets you feel the girth splitting you. Jackson’s behind your head, cock out, it’s longer than William’s, tip wider than the base, flared like it’s made to lock inside. He slaps it against your cheek. “Open up, darlin’.”

You do. He slides in, tip stretching your lips wide. “That’s it. Take little brother down your throat.”

They find rhythm. William thrusting deep & slow, Jackson fucking your mouth, both groaning. William leans down to lick a fresh welt on your hip, tasting the tiny bead of blood. “Sweet little bleedin’ darlin’,” he purrs. “Tastes like pure fuckin’ surrender.”

Jackson pulls out & slaps your face with his cock, strings of saliva stretch & snap on your cheek. “Beg for both of us, sugar.”

“Both of you!! I need it… Please!—”

William pulls out, flipping you again. Jackson lies back on the table & pulls you on top. His cock slides into your cunt, his long tip flaring wide, stretching you differently. William’s thicker head nudging your ass. “Relax, darlin’. Gonna fill ya up real good.”

He pushes in, slowly, inch by burning inch. You’re sobbing, full beyond reason. They start moving at opposite rhythms first, William’s thicker cock pulsed & twitched in your tight ass, Jackson’s is longer, his tip was a bit wider than the base & your pussy made a flicking, wet sound every time your ass slammed down on his pelvis.

It reached deeper than William’s, you could feel his tip knocking just above your bellybutton. They began syncing deep & brutal. Jackson’s big hands on your hips, William’s on your throat, squeezing just enough.

“Come for us,” William growls. “Come like the filthy little slut ya are.” You shatter but their hands hold you in place while you scream & go limp, squirting around them, walls clamping hard. They follow, still thrusting through their own orgasms, flooding you from both ends, seed overflowing in hot ropes. Cocks twitching & still stretching you

They pull out slowly, leaving you gaping & dripping. William licks a fresh scratch on your back. Jackson unties you. “Clean up, sweet thing,” William says, voice calm. “Don’t be late tomorrow night. We got big plans for ya, darlin’.”

The house echoes empty. You’re left trembling on the pool table. Something seemed to shift in their demeanor.

They’re not done.

William grabs the chain leash again, yanking you off the table. “Outside, darlin’. Garden’s waitin’.”

Jackson’s hand fists your hair, dragging you down the hall, past their closet, down the stairs, out the back door. The garden is overgrown, moonlight on tomato vines, old swing creaking in the breeze. Porch light buzzes yellow.

They push you onto the grass thats soft from recent rain. Jackson ties the chain to the porch railing short enough you’re on all fours. William’s knife traces your spine again, stinging lines that bead tiny drops of blood. He licks one & you felt his teeth on your spine. “Sweet little bleedin’ darlin’,” he purrs. “Tastes like home.”

Jackson’s behind you, his cock teasing your swollen entrance. “Beg for it, sugar.”

“Please.. I can’t take it any—”

Jackson spanks you & you lost your train of thought after the pain whispered. Jackson pulled your hair back & spoke directly into your ear, “Don’t say that,” William’s thicker length nudges your ass. “Take us like a good girl. You got it, baby.”

They push in, slow at first, then deep, brutal. Double penetration in the open air, crickets & cicadas are your only witnesses. They fuck you raw, spanking, licking welts, whispering filthy praise until you’re sobbing, begging, coming undone under the porch light.

When they finish flooding you again, they untie you. William kisses your forehead, gentle now. “Go home, darlin’,” he says. “But you come on back tomorrow. We ain’t done claimin’ ya.”

You stumble away. The night swallows you whole.

——————————————————————————

⚠️ 18+ / MDNI / DEAD DOVE / Hol Horse is a loaded gun (🤭)

——————————————————————————

“EMPEROR’S BARREL”

PAIRING: Hol Horse x F!Reader

KINKS: Gun fucking • Public stable heat • Sweat & leather • Forced spread • Bullet-tease • Degradation & praise

WC: ~850ish | MOOD: Egyptian noon, 110°F, hay dust & dry weather

——————————————————————————

The stable is a furnace. Sun hammers tin roof; horses stamp & snort, flanks slick. You’re mucking stalls in nothing but a soaked cotton shift, sweat plastering it to your tits, when a shadow falls across the doorway.

Hol Horse leans there, Stetson low, Emperor glinting at his hip. Shirt unbuttoned to the navel, gold chain stuck to his chest hair. He fans himself with his hat, smirking like he owns the desert.

“Hot enough to fry a man’s brains, darlin’,” he drawls, voice slow & syrupy. “But you—damn. Look at you drippin’.”

You roll your eyes. “Stable’s closed, cowboy.”

He steps in anyway. Heat rolls off him—gun oil, tobacco, man. The other hands, three local men froze mid-pitchfork. Hol tips his hat. “Y’all keep workin’. Just givin’ the lady here a lesson.”

Before you blink, Emperor’s barrel kisses your throat, cold steel, hot sun. “On your knees, sweetheart. Now.”

You drop into straw. It scratches. He spins the cylinder—click-click-click—then presses the muzzle under your chin, tilting your face up. Sweat drips from his jaw onto your lips.

“Open that pretty mouth of yours.”

You do. He slides the barrel in, slow, metal tasting of gunpowder & salt. Your tongue flattens against it; he groans.

“Good girl. Mhm, Suck it like ya’ mean it.”

The stable men gape. One drops his shovel. Hol doesn’t look away from you. “Eyes front, boys. Watch how a real man handles a filly.”

He pulls the gun out, slick with spit &hooks your shift with the barrel, ripping cotton to your waist. Tits spill free, nipples peaked from the sudden air. He circles one with the muzzle, cold & teasing, then pinches with his free hand.

“These tits,” he murmurs, voice rough, “made for a man’s mouth.”

He spins you, bends you over a hay bale. Ass up, shift rucked to your hips. Straw sticks to sweat-slick skin. The horses whinny; the boys breathe hard. Hol spreads your thighs with his boot.

“Look at this cunt, already beggin’ in this damned heat.”

Emperor’s barrel traces your slit, cold metal dragging through wet folds. You gasp; he laughs.

“Already soaked, just f’me, sugar?”

He presses, just the tip, gun fucking you slow, shallow. The ridge of the muzzle stretches your entrance, clicking against your walls with every twist. You clench; he growls.

“Take it deeper, darlin’. Or I’ll load you for real.”

You push back onto the gun, whimpering & he slides in another inch. The stable spins. Heat, straw, gun oil. He angles the barrel, rubbing your front wall & spins the cylinder again. Click-click. The vibration hums through steel into your nerves.

“Feel that? That’s power. You’re just the hole.”

The men are hard now & one palming himself through rough pants. Hol notices, smirks. “Go on, watch her break.”

He fucks you with the gun, slow, then faster, the barrel glistening with you. Your legs shake; sweat drips from your tits onto the bale. He leans over you, breath hot at your ear.

Twisting the gun in & out, he teases you. “Gonna make you come on my Emperor. Then I’ll shoot my load where it belongs, hun.”

You sob, the stretch, the cold, the humiliation. He twists, the muzzle kissing every corner & you shatter. Cunt clenching around steel, squirting down the barrel, soaking his glove. The stable erupts, men groaning, one cumming in his pants.

Hol pulls the gun out—pop—slick & dripping. He spins you again, shoves the barrel between your lips.

“Clean it good, baby. Go ahead & taste yourself.”

You suck, salty, metallic, filthy. Hol lifts his hot, thick, flushed cock from his sandy-colored pants. it's veins pulsing. Then, he strokes once, twice. Ropes paint your face, your tits, dripping into the straw.

He holsters Emperor, still wet with you & tips his hat.

“Stable’s open now, boys. But remember, she’s my mount.”

He saunters out. Heat shimmers.

——————————————————

⚠️ 18+ / MDNI / Diego Brando doesn’t fuck, he tastes & teases

——————————————————————————

“FOSSIL PULSE”

PAIRING: Diego Brando x GN!Reader (rival scout caught in his tent)

KINKS: Overstimulation via Stand • Twisted body worship • Degradation & praise • Humiliation • Biting/marking

WC: ~450ish | MOOD: Dust, lantern-smoke, & the low growl of Scary Monsters

——————————————————————————

Diego’s tent is a cage of shadows & heat. You’re on your knees in the dirt, wrists bound behind you with his own reins, leather biting skin. He circles slow, boots silent, scar twitching like it’s alive. Scary Monsters hums in the air, a low reptilian thrum that makes your teeth ache.

“Pathetic little scavenger,” he sneers, voice silk & venom. “Thought you could steal from me?” His gloved hand snags your chin, tilting your face to the cracked mirror propped against a saddlebag. “Look. See the mess you already are.”

In the glass: your lips swollen, eyes glassy, chest heaving. He doesn’t strip you, just rips fabric aside, exposing skin in jagged patches. His Stand manifests, skeletal claws, dino teeth glinting gold. They don’t touch. They hover, vibrating, a breath from your throat.

“Flawed,” he murmurs, almost reverent. “Every inch. Mine to perfect.” A claw traces your collarbone then bites shallow, blood beading like rubies. You whimper; the vibration intensifies, teeth grazing nerves without breaking skin. Pleasure spikes, sharp. Your hips jerk, he laughs.

“Already leaking? Useless.” But his tongue follows the blood trail, licking slow, savoring. “Perfect taste, though. Like fear wrapped in sugar.”

The Stand presses, claws circling nipples, teeth teasing inner thighs. No penetration. Just pressure, endless, vibrating. You sob, thighs clenching, but he hooks your knees apart with a tail-coil, forcing you open to the mirror. “Watch yourself break, prey.”

Orgasm coils, vicious & dry. He snaps it away, claws retracting. “Not yet.” Again. Again. Again. Each edge sharper, your body a live wire. Blood smears where teeth mark, throat, tits, hips, permanent fossils of his claim.

“Beg,” he growls, scar splitting in a grin. “Tell the mirror what a worthless trophy you are.”

You do, voice cracked, filthy. He rewards: one final strike, Stand teeth vibrating against your clit/cock, claws pinching nerves. You shatter, convulsing, no release, just ruin. Tears streak blood; he licks them clean.

“Mine,” he whispers, pressing a final bite to your pulse. “Run fast next race, fossil. Or I’ll finish carving you.”

——————————————————————————

⚠️ 18+ / MDNI / DEAD DOVE / Jack Hanma is 8ft of roid-rage & I need it all, gonna suck out the roids

——————————————————————————

“BIGGER THAN FEAR”

PAIRING: Jack Hanma x F!Reader (you’re the underground medic)

KINKS: Size kink • Painal • Breeding • Blood, sweat & piss • Choking until blackout • Cum inflation • Womb fucking • Fisting • Knife-edge degradation • Daddy issues • Spit as lube • Cervix bruising • Forced orgasms • Biting until you bleed

WC: ~1,100 ??? I forgot | MOOD: Whatever song that feels like it’s thrumming in your ribs

——————————————————————————

The gym is quiet at 3 a.m. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, one tube buzzing like a trapped insect. You’re crouched over the medi-kit, rolling fresh gauze between your fingers, when the steel door creaks open.

Jack fills the doorway. Eight-foot-two of scarred muscle & chemical fury. His shirt is gone, just shredded threads clinging to his shoulders. Knuckles split, blood dripping slow onto cracked concrete. His pupils are blown wide, gold rings thin as wire.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just breathes. The air shifts when he steps inside, like the room itself shrinks around him. You stay on your knees, gaze steady. You’ve stitched him a hundred times. You know the drill.

“Fix me,” he rasps, voice like gravel dragged over rebar. “Or I’ll fix you.”

Your heart kicks, but you don’t look away. He crosses the floor in three slow strides. One massive hand closes around your ribcage, fingers overlapping, then he lifts. You leave the ground. The medi-kit clatters. The cold metal exam table meets your back.

He looms. Sweat beads on his chest & rolls down the valleys between abs. You smell iron, salt, adrenaline. His cock strains against torn sweats, thick as your forearm & twitching with every heartbeat.

He doesn’t rip anything yet. Just watches you, then leans down slow until his mouth hovers at your ear. “Open.”

You do. He slides two thick, calloused fingers past your lips, tasting of blood & copper. You suck. He presses deeper till you gag softly. His thumb strokes your cheek, almost gentle.

Then he bites.

Not a nip, a claim. Teeth sink into the soft spot where neck meets shoulder. Skin splits. Warm blood trickles. You whimper; he growls low & satisfied, then licks the wound clean.

His other hand moves lower. Skirt pushed up, panties dragged down to your knees. He doesn’t rush. Spreads you with two fingers & studies the slick already gathering. Spits once, thick, into his palm & smears it over your cunt.

No warning. Three fingers push in, then four, then his whole fist, slow, stretching you open. You feel every knuckle, every vein. Your breath hitches; your back arches off the table.

He twists his wrist & grinds against your cervix, watching your face like he’s memorizing pain. “Tight & pathetic,” he mutters. “Gonna ruin this.”

He pulls out, lines up. The head of his cock is swollen, angry & leaking, he presses against your entrance. You feel the burn before he even moves.

One slow thrust, then another, deeper. Your walls stretched. Your stomach bulges, his shape visible under skin. He pauses, lets you feel it, lets you ache.

Then he moves.

Slow at first. Long, dragging strokes that scrape every nerve. His hand wraps around your throat, not squeezing yet, just holding, thumb over your pulse.

He leans in again & bites your collarbone, harder this time. Blood beads. He laps it up, groaning. “You’re pathetic, just letting this happen,” he says against your skin. “Gonna breed you til’ you leak for days.”

His pace builds. Hips snapping, table screeching. Sweat drips from his jaw onto your chest. You claw at his back, nails raking scars. He likes it, growls & bites your breast, teeth clamping around your nipple till you cry out.

You come hard, shaking, squirting, piss mixing with slick down your thighs. He doesn’t stop. Flips you face-down, ass up. Spanks once, sharp & stinging, then spreads you.

He spits & presses in. No mercy. The stretch is worse & burns like fire, like breaking. You scream into the vinyl. He chokes you silent, full hand around your throat, lifting your head back.

“Say it.”

You can’t speak. He squeezes till stars bloom & darkness clouds at the corner of your eyes.

“Say you’re my breeding bitch.”

You choke it out, voice raw. He slams home.

He fucks your ass like he’s trying to merge with you. Every thrust punches air from your lungs. Your belly bloats again, cum, piss, his sheer size. He pulls out only to fist your cunt, knuckles grinding & forcing his spend deeper.

He picks up your scalpel & drags the flat side up your thigh, then the edge, just a whisper. A thin red line blooms. He licks it, tastes you, bites the cut & sucks the blood like wine.

“Mine,” he says. “Every drop of you.”

Final round. He lifts you into full nelson, arms locked behind your neck, legs spread wide. Impaled. Your feet dangle. He walks you around the gym like a trophy, cock buried to the root.

You black out. Come to with hot piss flooding your womb. He’s marking you inside. It leaks down your legs in rivers.

He drops you. You collapse, trembling. He crouches, bites your lower lip til’ it splits, then kisses you, blood & cum & sweat.

“Clean up,” he says, tossing his ruined shirt over your bare, broken body.

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⚠️ 18+ / MDNI / Sephiroth is a weapon & you’re the sheath I guesssss (REWRITTEN)

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“SILVER TEMPTATION”

PAIRING: Sephiroth x F!Reader

KINKS: Body worship • Slow-burn sensuality • Leather & silk • Gloved hands • Hair-pulling • Thigh-riding • Mirror play • Praise & possession • Cervix kisses

WC: ~1,200 | MOOD: idk girl

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The night air hangs thick with the promise of rain & melted wax. Moonlight pours silver through tall arched windows, pooling across marble floors like liquid mercury while candles gutter in glass sconces, painting the chamber in gold & shadow. Sephiroth stands at the foot of the massive bed, coat unclasped & hanging open, black leather framing the sculpted plane of his torso. Long silver hair slides over one shoulder, strands catching candle-glow like spun starlight & his mako eyes burn low & steady, fixed on you.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he murmurs, voice velvet dragged across steel, he traces the line of your jaw. Cool leather meets fevered skin & your breath catches then the room tilts. You step closer, fingers finding the silver buckles of his coat, unfastening one, two, three until the heavy fabric sighs to the floor. Beneath lies miles of pale, battle-carved muscle, every line cut with surgical perfection, a faint scar curving beneath his left pec, it was a few months old.

He watches, unblinking, then catches your wrist & pulls you flush against him. The pulse from his veins floods your senses. “Tell me,” he says against your ear, lips barely grazing the shell, “is this what you came for?” Your answer is a whisper & a tug, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him down. “Yes.” His control fractures like thin ice.

The kiss is slow at first, tasting, testing, his tongue sliding against yours, deliberate & savoring. Gloved hands map your body with the same precision he wields Masamune, down the curve of your spine, over the swell of your hips, cupping your ass & lifting until your toes barely skim the rug. He walks you backward until your thighs hit the ornate vanity, the mirror behind you stands tall & he turns you to face it. “Look,” he commands, voice low. One arm bands across your chest, gloved palms splayed between your breasts, while the other slides down, parting your thighs, fingers slipping beneath silk to find you already soaked.

In the mirror his silver hair spills over your shoulder like a waterfall, your flushed face beside his perfect one, his hand moving beneath your panties in slow circles, leather slick with you. “Watch me worship what’s mine.” He sinks to his knees slowly, his coat pooling around him like spilled ink, lips pressing open-mouthed & greedy kisses planted to the inside of your thigh. Tongue traces higher, tasting salt & warm skin & when he reaches your center, he doesn’t rush, one long, languid stripe, then another, until your knees buckle.

You grip the vanity edge. He rises, turns you again, lifting you onto the marble top. Silk tears under gloved fingers, your shirt, his restraint. He mouths down your sternum, tongue swirling around each nipple, teeth grazing just enough to spark. Every inch of you is kissed, licked, memorized. “Perfect,” he breathes against your stomach. “Every curve. Every shiver.”

He stands, pushes your thighs wide with his hips. The bulge in his pants is obscene, straining leather & he frees himself slowly, letting you watch in the mirror: pale, flushed & a bead of precome glistening at the tip. He drags the head through your sex, once… twice, then presses in. Slow. Relentless. You feel every inch. Your head falls back against his shoulder; his hair curtains you both.

“Look at us,” he growls, hand fisting your hair & tilting your face to the mirror. Silver & shadow. His hips rolling in deep, measured thrusts, your stomach bulging faintly with each stroke. He worships with his body: one hand cupping your breast, thumb rolling your nipple & the other sliding between you to circle your clit, applying perfect pressure; his mouth at your throat, sucking marks that bloom like bruises under moonlight. He whispers, “Every inch of you was made for this.”

You come undone slowly, waves & not crashes. He follows with a low, broken groan, spilling deep, hips stuttering, but he doesn’t pull out. Stays buried, arms wrapped around you, lips brushing your temple. “Stay,” he says, not a command, almost a plea. You turn in his arms, press your forehead to his.

Moonlight catches the sweat on his collarbone, the faint tremble in his breath. Outside, rain finally begins to fall softly, like applause.

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