Latest Posts by squ1shygutszz666 - Page 3

Cold As Ice

Summary: Detective Walter Marshall is a sore loser, but he never lost a match, not up till now. She distracted him and now she’ll have to take the blame, preferably on her knees…   

Pairing: Hockey!Walter Marshall x OFC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 1926

Warnings: Smut. Finger fucking, rough-angry-punishment-sex, I’m going to tag this as consensual-non-consent to be on the safe side. MaleDom, manhandling, creampie, hinted jealousy, slight degradation and hair pulling. 

A/N: You guys enjoyed Coach!Syverson? So how would you feel about the idea of Walter playing Hockey with his police team? This idea came to me while speaking to @wolvesandhoundshowltogether discussing how Walter probably plays Hockey for fun with his size and his stamina and how hot he must be in them uniform. Thanks to @agniavateira for being my muse amy beta!!!

Comment & Reblog if you enjoyed :)

Title: Cold As Ice

Keep reading

Part Two 🥵

Octopus daddy. His hobbies include muscle building and fondling his own pecs and nipples.

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙙𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙘𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙭. note: posted on archive

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝

There’s a gash on her knee, and her panting seems to get heavy every large step she takes. Her knee is tumbling out of exhaustion but she can’t stop. Her nose is bleeding and yet she can’t wipe it off with her dirty clothing. Her screams are running hoarse however she can’t stop to catch her breath. Not when it’s around. Not when he watches. Not in this game of prey and predator

“Please- please! Stop!” The creature falls deaf to her pleas. He continued to tower over the girl. Messing with her mind, and making her deathly sick. She could feel her brain ache, her stomach gurgling out of dizziness. Her eardrums are blanking with a noise so piercing and irritating that tears well up in her eyes. She’s at her limit. She can’t take it anymore, her body is running out every option. It’s impossible to exert with her weak flesh and bones, her weak lung and her loud thumping heart. It’s impossible to keep sprinting and sprinting in this crowded, dark forest. It’s impossible to find a way out of this maze of scratchy pines and damp dirt. It’s impossible to keep on going.

She had admit defeat. This slender figure with a faceless head and deathly white skeletal body, has powered over her. The monster didn’t to seem to feel any fatigue. The monsters clothing recognizable as a humans suit, is flawless and clean. She could feel her dignity ruined and reared up, facing the behemoth. She could feel her humanity slip away from this degrading position, parallel to a lion and a deer. She prepared herself to be met with a strangle from the tentacles attached within his back. Or perhaps her head being severed immediately as he takes a bite. She prepare to see the end of her life. Moments and flashbacks run to her mind as she faces the demise coming forth. The silence and tension of her waiting the monster to get it over with, felt suffocating. It felt hours. Days of anticipation. But it was just responded with silence.

Finally, he rose his tentacle up. She squeezed her eyes shut and hold her breath, saving at least some parts of her to be safe. Clenching the ground earth, and pushing back into the stump of a tree. In seconds she will die soon and be faced with- the tentacle was around her thigh.

“What?” She stuttered. It felt slippery. The tendrils just seem to grope her flesh even harder as she says it.The creature looked at her, she can’t pick up any expression or social cue from the blankness of his face. Pure white, and stoic mess. Although, his body seems to get closer and closer, and closer. The tentacle finally left his grip on her leg, rather, traced to her face. It was wet. Smooth and uncanny feel to it. Out of nowhere, his skeletal skinny fingers now held her chin. Forcing her to face up the tall creature as her cheeks were being squished. She respond by wrapping her hands around his strange arms. And her body slowly losing tension. There was heat around her face. Why? She can’t put it together, but somehow she feels slightly attracted to this being. Mysterious, cunning. All-powerful. She was interested. It was as if all her morals were slipped away when facing such a monster, knowing how much control he has over her.

Accidentally, her tongue opened up. She licked the finger of the tall creature. Even if he didn’t had a face, he was stunned. Although, intrigued. He pushed a finger into her mouth. She choked out of surprise. His hands being already long enough to reach the back of her throat, caused her to spill saliva around her lips. She whimpered. It was too much, it was too intoxicating. His scent was driving her insane, driving her to become so deranged. Driving her to rummage with nasty thoughts. God, she felt so unclean. However it just kept on going against her wishes, and he seems to enjoy this pleading. Playing with her teeth and tongue, as she suckles more and more.

“Mmhm!” She is running out breath, now in a different way. Her legs starts squirming, and she could feel more tendrils coming up on her. They slide upon her skin, and her stomach. So close to her behind, so close to her inner thighs. Her shorts now slobbered with inky goo, and her shirt slowly falling as he kept on going. Suddenly, the creature stopped. His fingers now traced out of the mouth with trails of spit. He stands tall once more.

Good girl.

He uttered. She didn’t know it could speak. And she didn’t knew he was this playful. He opened his mouth, showing rows of sharp teeth and large dark tongue. He towered down and punctured her mouth with his tongue. She responded with her lips collaborating within his. She whimpers even more. Clenching his suit in response, and she could feel him lifting her up. She sat on thigh as he crouched down, and as she goes in more into the creatures mouth, she grinds herself on his sleek pants. Her breath is getting haggard, she can’t barely get oxygen as she make out. The tongue took all the space within her mouth, and she felt so full.

Good, good girl. It said telepathically. His praises just kept on plaguing her mind. She enjoys this even more, and fasten her speed on his thigh. His tentacles kept on going closer to her breasts and ass, tightly boding on her to skin. It ripped up her shorts, leaving with her panties. Then tore her shirt, exposing her top to the cold autumn air. The tentacles fondled and groped on to her tits, so warm compared to her skin. And she could feel his hands slowly rubbing her panties, tracing back and forth between the cloth and her clit. Her body twitches in response, allowing her hand to clench even more on his tie. The man picked her up, putting a stop to their tongues colliding. The tentacles wrapped all around her body, and put up her in the air. He then starts playing with her slit, and his tongue slowly tracing with spit on her panties.. She threw her head in pleasure.

“Mhm! Please.”

Be patient. I usually don’t play with my food.

She knew it was a threat, but it got her even wetter. She started moaning louder and louder. She never felt so good. Never felt so great compared to all her past experiences with men. It made her full, it pushed to the edge never then before, all the while her panties are move to the side of her thighs. She started tearing up from how much stimulation there is. Her naked body slithered with tentacles and her pussy being plunged with a wide thick tongue. Her body spasming out of pure hormones, wanting him to get harder and harder within her pussy. Want him to slide up and down, and grip her harder.

I never knew you humans were this deranged.

He can read thoughts. She gasp in surprise as he even went harder. Starting to hold onto the tendrils as her body gets even more heated up, even more wet and sweaty.

You really do enjoy this. Don’t you? Don’t you darling.

“Yes! Yes I do.”

She came undone onto the monsters tongue. Her head wailed back in response as she let out a high pitch whimper. Her legs kept on shaking and she could feel her arms pathetically grab on the monsters body, for some sort of grip. But as much as her tears fell down on her face, the monster kept on going. The monster kept on flicking his tongue back and forth, sliding down her slit.

“Ha- Wait, wait!”

What little girl?.

As she was about to respond, she choked onto her words. It was cut off as he deepened his mouth into her pussy. Enjoying how weak and frail she was compared to his actions.

“Please please!”

What do you want? Spit your words out.

“Too much! Please- ha- stop!”

The monster chuckled. No please would make the monster drop what he was doing. Although, he did stop, instead, his tentacles put her in a position against the tree bark making the girl face him. Her head was too foggy from what was happening, but she could tell what was next from the heat between them. Tilting to the side and her eyes rolling back to rebound from her orgasm, the monster had to forcefully grab her face to look at him. A grip so harsh she could feel her cheeks bruising, and her arms holding onto the tree.

I’m not done with you yet.

She whimpers, slobber coming out of her mouth. As much as the stimulation hurts her body, she was throbbing. She needed more even as much she couldn’t handle it. She wanted the monster to destroy her. To claim her and use her up. After years of pent up hormones and fantasies, she couldn’t resist.

So needy. You waited so long for this? You humans never fail to amaze me.

She forgot again that he could read her mind. He probably saw all the disgusting perverted dreams that she stored in her mind. From the multiple times she tried to pleasure herself to the times she hope for some being to ram her. He even saw the moment he had chased her and read all the thoughts ridden with a sick wish that he could fulfil it. He even chuckled more to this reveal. He had never saw a human asking to be broken. And throughout all his thousands of years, he wanted to play. Play with his food, something so rare coming out of the entity.

With that, his tentacles slowly withered onto her thighs, shoving them to open up more. While two more nailed onto her hands against the bark. He positioned himself near her crotch. The entity could feel the slick dripping down out of her slit, all while his pants rub onto her pussy. She moaned in return, begging for him to do something about her throbbing pain. As he does it more and more, she became louder, with that he quickly shoved his tentacles into her mouth. Muffling her whines and groans.

Noisy girl.

Soon enough, he finally took it out. She gasped even if his tentacles were choking her mouth. With no warning, he thrusted it in. It was too much, and he was wrecking her more by playing with her clit as well. Fondling her breasts with his large hands, and pounding her back and forth which deepened her skins more into the branches bark, scratching her and staining her with dirt. He finally let her throat to rest, and her loud panting and cries can now be heard and echoed into the forests.

“So much! So much! Ha- mhm!”

Pathetic.

”I’m gonna- mhm- I’m gonna!”

What is it. Say it. All I hear is gibberish.

“I’m gonna cum soon!”

Her pussy tightened around his inhumane dick. Her head bobbing up and down like an animal, and her eyes crossing up in the air. All she could muster out was whimpers and cries for more and more. All she could do was feel his thrust that were ramming her into a speed no human can take. And her breasts were covered in handprints that turned her skin into a different colour. All while her puffy clit sending waves of pleasure within her pussy. So much at once. So much to handle and feel. She was about to come all over the monster, a thousand year old entity that could kill her in a second if he wanted to.

You’re close.

”I am! Please let me!”

Go ahead darling.

She spasmed around his dick. Letting out a loud wail that scratched her throat, as her hands fuddled around every part of the monsters suit. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop thrusting her and playing with her clit. He didn’t stop gripping her tits and biting on them.

“What- no no! Too much! Please no more-“

You will be done with this when I’m done.

All she could do was let her saliva drool down on her neck and breasts. All she could is whimper out pleases and moans. All she could do is let him thrust more and more even with how much stimulation ride out her body. It was painful, but so, so good.

And she could feel his dick throb inside of her, with his guttural groans coming out of the monster. He was close as well. As much as she question whether or not if it was humanely possible, it didn’t matter to her. She wanted to be filled. She wanted his fluids to come out of her pussy when he was done. She wanted to be bred in ways that she fantasize for years.

You want me to fill you up huh?

“Please! Hm- Please!”

Pathetic, pathetic little girl. Begging for a monster to breed you? Don’t you have a little shame?

“No! no! I’m a pathetic bitch!”

That’s what I wanted to hear. Adorable precious little bitch.

The monster thrusts hard and harder as she grips even more onto his suit. She could feel her ears ringing with how much movement was on her. She could feel her tongue panting out to the monster, asking him to kiss her. The entity agreed, and he shoved his inky tongue into her throat making her unable to breathe.

Mine. You’re mine you got that?

“Uh huh- mhm!”

My human slave. You serve me. You’re going to serve me now.

“Yes! Yes sir!”

She cried out into the forests. Unwillingly knowing that she just signed a contract to the demon. Holding up a future for her to be someone to a boss of many, a leader of monsters, and a manipulative entity. But she didn’t care, all she wanted was her pussy to leak out the cum he was about to spill into her hole. She didn’t care, she just wanted his tongue to puncture the back of her throat even more. She didn’t care, she just wanted to be fucked so hard to the point where she was left shaking. She just didn’t care.

My good little girl.

And he finally thrusted into her for a last time. Cum filling up to the brim where it leaked out. Her legs twitched as she moan into a needy whine. Forever captive by this entity. Forever a food to play with and teased at.

“Thank- thank you for sir.”

headcanon:

slenderman is eerily quiet during sex. he is expressionless and does not moan. but he can dirty talk and make static sounds, if you’re into that.

Aesthetic: Hybrid vampire werewolf

Nosferatu (2024)

words cannot express how excited i am for this movie so i made a poster to celebrate the release of the trailer

happy birhday mr. eggers!!! one of the best filmmakers of ALL TIME, i cannot WAIT to see what he does with nosferau!!! 🙏

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

assistant!reader who absolutely loves riling her boss up.

John is not use to pretty little things flirting with him, he usually watches all the girls fawn over his men when they go out for drinks.

Now his pretty assistant takes every chance you can to fluster him, going as far as commenting on his a s s

IN FRONT OF HIS TEAM

John would be leant over his desk, palms pressed firmly onto the surface as his eyes scan over the file Gaz just brought in, the other three standing aside, waiting for his word.

You walk in with his afternoon cup of tea, bright smile in place and John raises his head , his own small grin settling as you slide up beside him, placing his mug down. “Here you are John.”

“Thanks love.” He nods, lowering his eyes back to the pages in front of him when you hum.

“No, thank you sir.” You giggle, and he cocks an eyebrow, glancing up at you, just to find your eyes dragging over his body, most importantly his rear.

“You fill those jeans out quite nicely sir.” You giggle, turning on your heel and exiting his office as you leave him floundering, Soap and Gaz covering their mouths to pathetically try to stifle their laughter

“Looks like she like’s your assets Captain.”

“Simon.”

“Sir.”

ferrari geto

✩ㅤ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, established relationship, vırgin nanami, cowgirl, praise, size kink, premature ejac, mdni.

virgin nanami loses it once you tell him to ditch the condom.

“sweetheart, i—” he’d swallow, choking up on his words once cool air settles against his skin. he swallows, chewing on his bottom lip once he feels a brand new feeling. the rubbery latex wasn’t blocking him anymore, and he groans once his swollen tip smears up against your entrance. soaked, he grows quiet once he looks down to see your dripping pussy hovering over his reddened frenulum that’s tearing up with glossed pre-cum. “god, ‘s warm,” the blond sucks in a single quickened breath as a curling pout twists against his lips. “a- are you sure?”

“ ‘m sure, baby,” you whisper up against the hot shell of his ear. he’s so warm, his entire body arouse with temperature all because of the sweet sound of your voice. the center of your palm rubs against his cheek and he leans into your touch. metaphoric heart eyes form in his eyes as they dilate, his own thumping heart beating out of his chest. “ ‘s okay, inside.”

“f- fuck,” nanami’s head gradually tosses itself back, and with quick alignment, he’s back inside. he kisses his teeth once he feels the real thing, your silvery walls massaging around him. the glossy sweat that pours onto his skin shines against his body glimmers brightly. he groans, letting off a soft whine once he feels the brief tightness grow snug. “you’re gonna make me—”

and within seconds, he’s cumming, hard. nanami barely even last a second after you take off the rubber, and he’s an entire mess. with a firm grasp, he’s reanimating your hips with his hands as you slowly jerk and move. “please,” he gently pierces his teeth into your neck, shivering breath ghosting against your skin. “don’t stop, s- show me how to feel good, please.”

his words were like a broken rough whisper — you pause, staring into his eyes and he’s sincere.

nanami’s heavily panting, beads of sweat racing down each sides of his forehead. fawn kind eyes bore into yours before he glances down at your sprawled out legs. “so pretty,” he hiccups, and even his touch was delicate. he was always gentle, he didn’t want to hurt you. a few thick padded fingers drag and scurry down your hips before his lip quivers. “i- i want you, i want more.”

“so have me then,” you coo against his ear, the tone of your voice more teasing than anything. as your hips start to salaciously rock into him again, you grab onto both of his wrists, trying to guide him. “there we go, ‘ken,” you whisper, and you can hear a bundle of wanton whimpers leave from his lips—never has he had a feeling like this, ever. he was so weak from your touch, your body heat, your taste. as your fingers tenderly brush against his, you make him cling onto your rickety waist. “hold me, like this.”

nanami groans, and he’s still sensitive, very. he just came, ribbons of balmy hot seed shoots deep into you and it’s warm. it makes both of his ears ring and he only wants more, more, more.

“okay,” he replies in a husky voice, and you can see blond shaggy strands of hair glue across his forehead. “o- okay,” he repeats, his tone dropping a bit lower. the bed mercilessly creaks as your rocking accelerates, his bulbous tip jabbing around every part of your cunt. once you show him how to touch you, he just can’t keep his hands off of you. “i dreamt about this for so long, sweetheart,” and he watches your pretty lips contort into an amused simper. “s- sorry, is that too dirty?”

“it’s fine baby,” you plant a kiss near the inside of his neck. a long breath gets caught in his throat. he’s about to say something else but he pauses, pouting deeply. cute, he’s embarrassed. nanami’s cock continues to rummage through your doughy insides, so much pressure that you feel it everywhere. your sappy folds squelch within each solid thrust before your arms wrap around his broad shoulders. “you dream about me?”

“sometimes, yeah,” he huffs, and the irregular unkempt thrusts slowly transform into pure blissful sync. nanami looks so pretty, he’s losing the more you bounce on his cock. so good, his jaw tightens and he’s feeling every vein in his body prod. you were starting to grow dumb as each second past and your moans only grew louder right with him. nanami’s head buries itself into your neck before he lefts off a frustrated whine. “it’s hard not to when you’re so pretty,” and his voice cracks at the end. you feel the tip of his tongue swirl around near your collarbone and you gasp. “god, you’re even prettier inside t- too.”

“yeah?” you whisper, creating a trail of sloppy kisses down the slip of his exposed neck. he’s moaning more at your touch. you feel his beefy thigh start to bounce before his palm squeezes against your bare ass. “you gonna cum for me again, kento? ‘s okay, be a good boy ‘n make a mess for me.”

a sheepish smile stretches against his lips, though instead of sheepish smile—it’s more of a pussy drunk one.

as you stare at him, his dimples poke against both sides of his cheeks and he’s getting lost into the way your hips twirl around him. “your good boy, mhm. all yours, ‘m gonna cum a- again,” and his voice lowers significantly. your clit’s profusely getting thwacked and mashed up against his fattened tip and it’s so appetizing. with nanami’s soft mousy eyes flicking backward until it’s nothing but pure white in his sockets, he gives your ass a soft spank. “k- keep riding me like that ‘n i’m gonna fall in love.”

and it’s right as he said that — he came again.

this time it’s a lot more. it’s thicker and languidly, you feel it spew out in velvety strips. his entire base was flaccid and he’s just idle inside of you. nanami’s whimpering underneath you as his legs finally collapse. you watch him fall back against the cushioned pillows and he’s so flustered. “mhh,” he grouses as multiple jittery pants leave from his lips. nanami wraps strong burly arms around you, holding you close. “stay,” he rasps, still hearing the sloshes of his dribbling cum trickle in and out of you. he’s shivering, his teeth shattering and he’s never felt more sensitive. he’s definitely in love.

“okay,” you nod, feeling him hide his head into the crook of your neck again. he’s so clingy—but you didn’t mind, and his warm breath tickles against your skin. you get a brief scent of his rich cologne scent that drives forevermore drove you weak. sitting up to press a chaste kiss against his twitching ruby lips, you whisper shakily. “good boy.”

and nanami’s eyes were so half lidded, your praises—he couldn’t get enough of them. seconds later and he’s still pouring into you deep, painting your gummy walls with his pristine-white color. with droopy eyes and flapping long lashes taking in your beauty, nanami whines. “more, don’t stop fucking me,” and you let off a gasp once he suddenly lifts you off his lap, lying you flat on your back. you land with a soft ‘oof’ before he spreads your legs, gazing at the satiny masses of cum that race down the crevices of your thighs.

“please,” and you moan once he drags his tongue up your legs, stopping towards your puffy clit. “teach me h- how to eat this,” and his eyes rove towards your slobbering cunt. you feel butterflies build up in your tummy before nanami’s quite literally drooling right before you. not only was he probably in love, he was also hungry.

“please mistress.”

Nosferatu 2024 dir. Robert Eggers

well kept [1] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, bdsm elements, rafe has control issues, some sugar baby vibes, future NONCON/DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 4.8k

In which you interview for a low-level position at Cameron Development, but instead, you unexpectedly find yourself chosen as Rafe Cameron's personal assistant.

rafe cameron masterlist

The sky was dreary. You looked up to see dark and ominous clouds staring down at you. Taking a breath to steady your nerves, you continued walking along the pavement. At least the southern sun wasn’t beating down on you. Maybe you’d appear less sweaty and nervous to your possible employer. 

Charlotte was a big city you hadn’t fully explored, but your walk was familiar. A few blocks down from the Cameron Development headquarters was the Mug & Muffin, where you’d been serving coffee for the past year. You practically only served housewives who had the time to grab coffee at 11 in the morning and suits who were on their way to the giant buildings downtown to make more money than you’d ever see in your whole life. 

Today was your day off; however, it was the only day of the week that you weren’t working for ten straight hours. Somehow, you’d been selected to interview for a Filing Clerk position at Cameron Development. You thought it was some kind of mistake that out of all the places you applied to through online portals, a legitimate company wanted to interview you. Not only was it legit, but they had their building downtown. The building was no skyscraper, but looking up at twenty dark steel floors, huge windows wrapped around each side, and a sparkling gold sign that read CAMERON, you felt incredibly intimidated. 

When you finally pushed through the revolving doors, you reminded yourself that it was a small position. A small position you weren't qualified for, but there was no need to worry. The receptionist on the first floor barely glanced at you when you approached her. You took a deep breath, slowly releasing it before starting your sentence: “Hi, I have an eight-thirty interview with Andy Speer in the Record Management department.”

She spoke curtly, “Twelfth floor,” She pointed to the elevators hidden behind a corner.

“Th-Thank you,” You mumbled, your shoes clicking against beautiful marble floors as you made your way to the elevators. You weren’t expecting to go so high up the building. The ride felt like an eternity, with each floor reminding you of how out-of-place you were. Even the receptionist who worked on the first floor acted like she was above you. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress, grateful you’d chosen a black one. Well, you were thankful that you’d chosen the second out of the only two nice dresses you owned. 

You were now the age you should've graduated college at, you couldn’t work at a coffee shop forever. If you ever wanted to not have to live with three other people then you needed a serious job. You needed to take advantage of this opportunity. If you somehow landed it, this was the type of job where you might be able to grow. Who knows? Maybe you’d eventually be able to afford a car payment. Those thoughts pushed you forward as you walked down the hallway. 

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N,” The male voice came from behind you and you whirled around to see a short, bearded man approaching you. He wore a blue dress shirt and navy tie and was carrying a coffee from no other place than the Mug & Muffin. You spotted a small brown spot near his shirt pocket wear he’d clearly spilled some, “You’re here about the Filing Clerk position?”

You nodded, your heart beginning to race, as you stuck your hand out for him to shake. You weren’t sure if you were overdressed, having worn your outfit at your cousins wedding, but you added a red cardigan and ballet flats to make it more professional, “Yes,” You smiled, “That’s mmm-me.”

He didn’t seem to look you over more than once, and his smile remained despite the bump in your speech, “Great, my name is Andy Speer. I manage the department. Come on into my office.”

Breath, you reminded yourself. Start your sentences slow. Take a pause if you need to. If you get stuck, don’t get too frustrated. Try not to bring attention to it. 

When you settled into his office, relatively small but with a large window that had a lovely view of the city, he began the interview. You folded your hands in your lap, trying to be acutely aware of your facial expressions and your body’s posture. 

“So, tell me a little about your experience,” He started. 

“Well,” Breath in and slowly release, “I’ve actually been working at the Mug & Muffin as a shift lead for the past year but, before that, I worked in retail for several years. I’m v-vvvv-very organized; that’s why I’ve been able to help with-with both managing inventory and scheduling tasks.”

“Organization is key in a position like this. And you also know how to work on your feet. Our clerks travel all throughout the building, retrieving documents and assisting with things like file purging and managing file systems.”

Deep breath in. Start slowly. 

“I’m totally capable of being in service to others. Working in customer service will teach you how to deal with people very quickly and I’m sure there are similar ups and d-downs even within a company. I think it’s important to show a p-p-person that you’re listening, even if you c-c-can’t help them directly.”

He nodded, “People tend to forget that. What else interests you about working in Records Management?”

“I like the idea of keeping things in order. Making ssss-ssss,” Too fast. Slow down, “Sssss-sssss-sure. Uhm. Making sure everything is in place. It ssss-sound sss-small but it’s s-something I’m good at. And I’d like to be a part of a bigger company where I can grow and learn.”

Andy’s lips parted, and he gave you a look that you were no stranger to, “Ms. Y/L/N, if you don’t mind me asking–”

“I have a stutter,” You finished his sentence before taking another breath, slowing down as much as you could, “I have it managed, mostly. When I’m asked direct questions, or I’m especially nervous, it can flare up. But I-I-I am nervous. I’m interested in this job.”

Andy smiled softly, and your heart seemed to rest slightly. The pounding in your chest was about to make you go crazy.

“I appreciate your honesty. I have more questions for you but there’s no need to be confined to this office. I’ll show you around the building.”

You were more than relieved, instantly nodding. He seemed to understand how tense you were and undoubtedly the conversation would feel more casual if the two of you were walking at the same time. The interview continued, and Andy allowed you time to ask him questions about your possible role. 

Still, you felt small, like a child in an adult’s world. Andy touched on your lack of secondary education but didn’t press it. You explained how you’d completed two years of your undergrad degree, majoring in accounting but had to leave for personal reasons. You explained that you eventually wanted to finish your degree, but in reality, you’d only chosen accounting because it was one of the few majors that didn’t require you to take a public speaking class. 

You followed him through corridors with large glass meeting rooms on either side. Again, everyone you came across looked like they belonged. You walked past a room with a long, sleek table, and it seemed like at least twenty people were sitting at the table. At the front of the room was a tall man, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit. His back was slightly turned, but the air of authority permeated through the glass all the way to you. You felt it against your skin. 

His voice was raised but was muffled by the glass barrier, “That’s Mr. Cameron. Our CEO.”

Your lips parted when you caught a real glance at him. He was older but much younger than you expected. Certainly younger than a CEO typically was. His hair was buzzed short, his skin a nice tan color, and blue eyes that locked on you. Briefly but intensely, “Let’s continue our tour.”

The rest of the tour happened in a blur. You felt that you made a good impression on Mr. Speer. He was accepting of your stutter and resonated with all the examples you shared from your past jobs. He informed you that they were interviewing four other applicants but that you’d receive an update in the next week about whether they’d chosen you. 

You felt slightly more confident than when you arrived and you reached for your phone, wanting to text your roommate how it went and that you’d be home soon but you ran into wall of muscle as you stepped onto the elevator, “S-Sorry,” You gasped, reaching down to grab your phone which had slipped from your grasp, “Ssss-so sss-sorry.”

Just shut up, you told yourself, and you found yourself actually speechless when you looked up into Mr. Cameron’s eyes, “Careful,” He said, slightly patronizing, and you wanted to crawl inside your skin. You tucked your phone away into your bag, stepping aside until you were on the other side of the elevator. 

The elevator door closed, and your eyes widened when you realized the elevator was not going down, “Oh,” You breathed, “You’re going up.”

Of course he was going up. The CEO works on the top floor. And now, here you were, stuck in an elevator with the CEO himself, a barista dressed up and pretending to belong in a place you had no right to be.

“Yeah, you can usually tell by looking at the arrows before you get on.”

You pressed your lips together, determined not to say anything more, even though you could feel his eyes on you. He sighed, “You’re new, I’m assuming.”

You shook your head. Breathe, start slowly. “I interviewed today. File Clerk.” Keep it brief, you reminded yourself. There was no need to try to impress the CEO—he was far too important to be involved in hiring someone like you. It was better not to embarrass yourself.

The elevator dinged with each floor that you passed, “Ah, well, I hope you were impressed by all the company has to offer,” he said as the doors opened, revealing a sleek black wall with the Cameron Development logo etched in gold. A waterfall cascaded down the marble surface, exuding elegance, “Enjoy your ride down.” 

“B-Bye-” 

Shut up. 

You reached to press the lobby button, watching as his large figure slowly disappeared down a hallway before the doors shut again. 

 There went that small sliver of confidence.

You went down a rabbit hole googling Cameron Development, of course. Rafe Cameron was just shy of thirty but he inherited the company from his father, Ward, when he was only twenty. It went from a company centered to the Outer Banks to one that served clients across the entire country. According to a website you weren’t sure was actually reputable, his networth was close to 1.3 billion dollars. 

And he thought you were an idiot. Most likely, he wouldn’t remember you all. 

You hoped you wouldn’t run into again when you returned to the Cameron Developent the next week. Andy had called you to let you know that you’d been chosen for the job, but when you approached the receptionist on the first floor, she informed you that you should check in with the receptionist on the twentieth floor. 

Was there another portion of the hiring process that involved meeting someone higher up in the company? You asked her if she’d actually meant that floor twice before the woman rolled her eyes and pretended to answer a phone call. 

The twentieth floor. 

You splurged on a new outfit, hopeful that your new job’s salary would soon replenish your funds. You’d be making ten dollars more per hour, after all. You chose a black, square-neck top and soft cream-colored pants, pairing them with your trusty ballet flats that matched almost everything.

When you arrived on the twentieth floor again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that security might escort you out at any moment. Walking past the elegant waterfall, you found the receptionist desk. The redheaded woman behind it was stunning, and though her smile lacked sincerity, at least she looked you directly in the eyes.

“Hi, I’m supposed to meet with Andy Speer in Record Management?” 

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” You nodded as you let out a breath. At least you weren’t in the wrong place. 

“Follow me,” she said, stepping out from behind the desk. She was dressed in a sleek, navy dress adorned with gold buttons down the front, tied with a bow at the waist. You couldn’t help but admire her style, your gaze trailing down to her elegant heels. “You’ll be meeting with Mr. Cameron today.”

“Wh-” Your lips paused in an uncomfortable, rounded position before the block in your speech passed, “Why?”

She didn’t respond, and there wasn’t time to press her as she led you to the end of a long hallway. You found yourself in front of two imposing, black double doors. With a push of the large, gold handles, she opened them to reveal the most elaborate room you’d ever seen.

The sheer scale of the room was breathtaking. Your eyes immediately went up to ceilings at least two floors tall and a gigantic window covering the farther wall. You thought Andy’s view was nice … you could see all of Charlotte from this window. Long black curtains hung from the ceiling to keep some of the light out. When the curtains were drawn, the room would undoubtedly take on a different character—moodier, more intimate, and even more private.

To the right, a stunning black marble fireplace dominated the wall, flanked by a bookcase that stretched the entire length of the room. A plush seating area featured leather couches that looked as comfortable as they were luxurious, with a low coffee table in front. Nearby, a polished bar cart stood ready, stocked with an array of crystal glasses and top-shelf spirits. No doubt to impress clients.

“Holy…” You spoke, as smooth as ever. 

To the left was Rafe and his expansive mahogany desk, positioned to take advantage of the view of the city’s infrastructure. His desk was organized with files stacked neatly, a computer with multiple desktops, and a mug that held steaming coffee. Expensive art pieces were framed on the wall behind him, carefully selected to aid the overall aesthetic of the space. They were dark and imposing like him. 

His chair was high-backed and leather, and as you met his eyes, you noticed he was just as tailored as the room. Broad shoulders and lean frame … you wondered how much time he spent carefully crafting it. He set aside the folder he had been reviewing as the redhead, Eleanor, announced your presence.

"Mr. Cameron, your ten o’clock meeting," she said.

“Thank you, Eleanor. That’ll be all,” His voice was smooth and commanding, “Come sit, Ms. Y/L/N.”

He emphasized the leather chairs in front of his desk and although your legs felt like weights, you crossed the room. You couldn’t help but continue to stare at how impressive it was and now that you’d learned more about him through your research, it made sense. What didn't make sense to you was why you were sitting in front of it. 

He leaned forward, his hands folding together, and instinctively you moved further back in your chair, “I got a chance to look at your application and resume.”

Your eyes widened, “Really?”

He nodded, “You never finished college. Why’s that?”

“I…I don’t understand,” You couldn’t hide the confusion on your face, “I didn’t think I-I would b-b-be …I thought Mr. Speer would be here.”

“He works for me, doesn’t he?”

“Y-Yes-” “You want to work for my company, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you repeated, your voice smaller this time. His head tilted slightly, his gaze sharpening.

“Did you forget my original question?”

“N-No,” You blurted before you took a breath. Relax, you told yourself, despite being aware of the environment that Mr. Cameron had already created, “I …I-”

He was patient but unyielding. You tried to imagine that you were just telling a story and not answering a pointed question. He was worth a billion dollars, not you. You had to answer his questions truthfully.

“I had a bad flare-up with my speech during my sophomore year. I …all throughout highschool it was very mild, but for some unknown reason, it got really sss-severe. My professors were … not accommodating. It felt immm-mmm-impossible.”

He stared at you for an uncomfortable amount of seconds. His piercing gaze had a way of making feeling like you were naked. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, “I see,” He tapped his finger against his desk, “It took me almost eight years to finish business school. By the end, my professor’s were only passing me because of who I was.”

Your lips parted in shock at his sudden candor. 

An ugly truth for an ugly truth.

 “Oh,” you whispered, not knowing what else to say. 

“I’m saying this because it doesn’t matter how many boxes check or how good of a person you are. It doesn’t matter to me what you think you deserve.”

“Okay,” You nodded, still unsure, “I don’t think think I deserve this job. But I want it.”

“How bad?” His lips pulled into a smirk. 

You searched your mind for all the rehearsed interview answers that you’d practiced, “I think I’m a really g-good fit for the–”

“No, what would you do?” He interrupted you, not in the way that people usually did because you were taking too long to speak. He was just completely uninterested in the words you had to say, “Let’s say six months from now, you’re up for a promotion and Andy corners you in his office. It’s ten-thousand more a year. Would you fuck him?”

There was a version of you, the rationale un-scared version of you, that would’ve stood up and walked out of the room. But you froze in place as you searched his eyes for whether he was asking you a trick question. 

Breathe in, let it out slowly, “No, I wouldn’t. I don’t understand.”

“If he hired you as a File Clerk, it would be a great way to get promoted,” Rafe said, “I looked at the other applicants, they’re all more qualified, but you’re more beautiful. It’s a pattern I’m starting to notice with him.”

You couldn’t comprehend why he’d brought you here just to tear you down—to belittle someone who would be working for his own company. Shaking your head, you stammered, “I-I made a mmm-mistake,” as you reached for your bag. But Rafe held up a hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t worry,” He stood up from his chair. You took a breath and swallowed, trying to keep your heart inside your chest. Hands in his pockets, he walked around the length of his desk until he was in front of you. Even as he leaned back on his desk, his presence seemed to cloud all of your senses, “Mr. Speer does want you to work for him in his department and you’re free to do so. However, I want to hire you as my personal assistant.”

“Uhm,” You blinked, caught off guard. “M-Me?”

“I’m between assistants right now and I think you’d be a perfect fit,” His watched your reaction carefully, his lips in a thin smile. 

Rafe Cameron was a complete asshole. 

“You want me to be your personal assistant?” You asked slowly, trying to prevent a stutter. 

“I want you to be my personal assistant,” he echoed, looking amused, “I think you’re cute.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Because I’m a c-college dropout www-with a stutter?” 

“Not just that,” he shrugged, his nonchalance making you want to scowl. You should’ve walked out already, but something kept you rooted to your seat.  “I think it would be mutually beneficial. The pay starts at eighty-thousand.” 

“A year?” You asked, feeling foolish immediately. 

“That’s almost triple what you make at your barista job.”

You eyed him curiously and wondered how exactly he knew that, “Yeah …”

“So, do you want it or not, Ms. Y/L/N?” The words hung in the air, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say "no." What choice did you really have? Work for a boss who might eventually cross the line—or work for one who’s offering to triple your salary?

“I’d love to give you more time to think it over,” he continued, glancing at his watch, “but I have a meeting in five minutes and will be out of the country for the rest of the week. You’ll need to decide now.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and anxiously picked at the fabric of your pants until you said, “Ninety-thousand.”

“You’re negotiating when you have no experience?” He wasn’t angry, just surprised. 

You nodded, although you were afraid you’d made a mistake. Now, you’d be escorted out by security. But you’d seen something in his eyes—something he wasn’t trying to deny. For reasons you couldn’t quite grasp, he wanted you.

“Eighty-five thousand,” he countered.

You paused, “Okay.”

“Okay?” You nodded again. “Great.”

He clapped his hands together, “W-When would I ssss-start?” 

“A week from now. Monday morning at seven. I get in at seven-thirty, and I expect you to be waiting here. Eleanor will work on getting your new wardrobe delivered to you before then.” 

“Wardrobe?” You echoed, bewildered. 

“I would’ve given you a hundred if you kept pushing,” he said, waving you off as he retreated behind his desk. Your jaw dropped as he added, “That’ll be all.”

The doors to his office opened again, and the redhead waited patiently for you to gather your things and hurry over to her. You glanced behind you to see Rafe intently focused on his computer screen. 

When you finally had enough distance from his office, you asked, “What happened to his last personal assistant?” You thought you might hyperventilate when you were finally alone with your thoughts. 

“Mr. Cameron can be difficult to please,” She smiled down at you, but her eyes were solemn, “Let me take your measurements.”

“Oh, I c-could just t-t-t-tell you,” you stammered, trying to get the words out quickly.

“They’ll need to be exact,” You followed her behind the reception desk. 

You looked at her closer—voluminous hair, a sharp jawline, winged eyeliner that executed perfectly. She was tall, slender, and beautiful, and you felt like you were nothing like her. Again, a child in a place meant for adults. He’d chosen someone like Eleanor, that made sense to you, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around what he saw in you.

Cute, he’d said. You always got cute. Never beautiful. Eleanor probably always got called beautiful. 

You stood still as she took your precise measurements, including around your hips, thighs, and bust. It was another moment where you probably should have run. “About this wardrobe I’ll be receiving…” you began cautiously.

“You’ll only wear what he picks out for you,” She said. 

Breathe. “That’s a little crazy, right?”

“Your job will ensure he has everything he needs—every hour of the day. You want to be nice to look at, don’t you?” 

And you don’t look nice to look at right now.

“Will I have a desk?”

Eleanor gestured to the one across from her, the second of two black desks in a square-shaped pod, “That one is yours, technically.”

“Technically?”

“Did he mention he works from home on Fridays?”

“No-”

“You’ll report to his house at seven a.m. on Fridays rather than here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Eleanor said with a knowing nod. “Don’t worry, I’ll type this all up in an email for you.”

Later, you sat in your apartment's living room, still in your pajamas. Your roommates, Imani and Angel, were at work for the next few hours, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You scrolled through your old laptop, reading the offer letter from Cameron Development three times: eighty-five thousand dollars plus excellent benefits. You hadn’t even been to the doctor in two years because of how expensive and terrible your insurance was.

You could afford your own apartment. You wouldn’t leave your roommates hanging, of course, but maybe you could in a few months. You could get your own cat like you’ve always wanted. That money would change your life. 

Your clothes arrived with a delivery man who was already frustrated with you. He had to make three trips to bring in all the garment bags Rafe had sent. He grew even more frustrated when you begged him to return some of it. They filled your entire living room, and you’d be a horrible roommate to keep all of it. You’d have to throw out all of your clothes to make them fit in your room. 

When the delivery man left, you started to zip the packages open and examine their contents. Your hands shook when you read the first price tag: a twelve-hundred-dollar Giorgio Armani dress. You began to notice a pattern as you looked at thirty different outfits. There were no black dresses or dark colors at all. Many of them were sad excuses for a woman’s professional work clothes. 

You couldn’t deny that the outfits were sophisticated, but they all seemed to follow a particular theme. If one didn’t feature a mini-skirt, it showcased a sleeveless top. Many had a professional air, with neat rows of buttons running down the front or crafted from rich tweed material. Yet, they were also undeniably frilly and elegant, teetering on the edge of overly dainty. You couldn’t shake the feeling that if you wore one, you’d resemble a Barbie doll more than a personal assistant.

Breaking a sweat, you piled all of the garment bags in your room, leaving only a small amount of room for you to walk from your bedroom to the bathroom. That was going to be a problem. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if you returned some of them. How many outfits did you really need for work? 

The man also brought in a trunk—an oversized, luxurious piece you couldn’t dream of fitting into your tiny shoebox of a room. Once you cleared enough space in the living room, you finally managed to open it. Inside, the left side was lined with rows of pristine heels, each pair more exquisite than the last. On the right, several items were wrapped in burlap sacks made from fine material. You carefully unwrapped one that bore the name GUCCI, revealing a small lilac handbag that looked both delicate and expensive.

God, you thought despite the fact you didn’t believe in him. 

Your roommates were going to think you were some kind of sugar baby or escort. Even if you explained what happened, they might still believe that. 

When you checked your laptop again, there was an email from Eleanor. 

Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

Congratulations on your new position at Cameron Development! We are pleased to officially welcome you as Mr. Rafe Cameron's Personal Assistant. 

Below are some key points regarding your new position:

Start Date: Monday, 7:00 AM

Work Location: Cameron Development Headquarters (Mon-Thurs) / Mr. Cameron’s residence (Friday)

Responsibilities: 

You will be expected to manage Mr. Cameron’s daily calendar, remind him of upcoming appointments, and ensure he is well prepared for them. 

You will coordinate all aspects of Mr. Cameron’s travel, including booking flights, accommodations, transportation, and hotels. 

You will complete all of Mr. Cameron's personal errands.

You must maintain strict confidentiality regarding Mr. Cameron’s personal and professional life. 

You will ensure all of Mr. Cameron’s personal needs are met. 

Salary: $85,000

Benefits: Comprehensive health insurance, paid time off, and a company-provided phone and laptop.

Confidentiality: Due to the sensitive nature of your work, a strict non-disclosure agreement (NDA) will be required upon your first day.

A few tips for looking your best: 

Wardrobe: Please adhere to the dress code. Your new wardrobe has been tailored to Mr. Cameron’s preferences. At work, you will not wear dark colors or pants. The items are non-returnable. Always opt for the heels provided. I suggest you practice at home if you’re uncomfortable wearing them. 

Makeup: Your go-to should be a light foundation, a touch of blush, and a subtle lip color. Avoid anything too bold when it comes to eye makeup. 

Hair: A braiding appointment has been arranged for you this upcoming Saturday, fully paid for. Mr. Cameron prefers a more extended length, but you’re free to choose the color as long as it’s natural. 

Remember, the goal is to look effortlessly polished. 

Best regards,

Eleanor Thornton

Executive Assistant to Mr. Cameron

Maybe Rafe Cameron was a sociopath.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :)

Simon Riley who has a Daddy kink 🤧

Tags; Daddy kink/Rough sex/Afab

Imagine being in bed with this man, fucked so hard on the mattress you sleep that you can feel it up your very spine. All you can do is whine and whimper underneath Simon, who molds you into every position he loves you in. Never on your stomach, he needs to see that pretty face, has to hear you babble on about how he's too deep, how you're so close.

"Say my name, princess." Simon grunts, his balls slapping against the soft skin of your ass, his hands wrapped tightly around your knees as his cock buries itself deep inside your cunt.

"Mmmf–fuck, Daddy!" You squeal out when the head of his cock nudges a particular spongy spot that sends you shivering from your head, down to your curled up toes. Tears pricked the side of your eyes, threatening to roll down your flushed cheeks. You closed them only for a second, just a second.

"Good girl, taught ya well." Simon hissed, a dark edge to his voice as he plunged into you with near brutality, showing you no mercy but the mercy of pleasure. The wet sound of bodies clashing filled the air, mingling with your moans and the distant roll of thunder.

Your little whimpers and pleads were like music to his ears, fueling his carnal instincts. His large hands, rough from combat, yet delicate in their craft, maintained an iron grip on your knees as he moved—his eyes locked on the sight where you were joined—a sight that turned his blood into liquid fire.

"You can take it. I know you can." He demanded, his words heavy and hot against your feverish skin. "Open those eyes for me, now." Simon towers of over you, lips curling with dark delight.

oh no you’re sooo much bigger than me it would be soooo awful if you cornered me against a wall and put your fingers inside me

YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit

⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, drugs (alcohol, cigs), yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is a freaky frog (lol tysm @buttercupblu143 for that), toji is delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff. ⟢ episode run time: 𝟒.𝟕𝐤

⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: i've been working on this fic so long so i'm finally happy to share it with you, hope you enjoy it! disclaimer—this is a plot-driven, eventual smut fic and is told mostly in Toji POV through flashbacks until the end of episode 3. so if you stick with me i promise you a freak nasty pay off in episode 4 💕🤭. the build up and decent into Toji's crazy makes it 100x better, trust~

Cracking his stiffened neck with a pop, Toji lazily exhales a plume of smoke. Absent-mindedly watching as it dissipates up into the amber sky. 

Streaks of molten gold laced with crimson flare in the atmosphere as the sun sinks into the horizon, its reflection shimmering like fire off the distant Tokyo skyscrapers. 

Worthy of being his favorite smoking spot, the idyllic viewpoint of his balcony is breathtakingly peaceful—or it would be, if it didn’t also provide a front-row seat to his next-door neighbors' heated domestic disputes.

“No more lies Ryo! I’m taking Yuji and we’re getting the fuck up outta this place!”

Your voice in particular travels outside loud and clear once it reaches a certain octave, eviscerating any serenity the spot may have offered. It’s almost as if the sky was perfectly mirroring the tumultuous end of a relationship in the violent dusky atmosphere.

Heh.

Well, Toji supposed a few things in life could actually be coincidences. 

He would call it poetic—but nah.

Toji knew fuck all about poetry. 

“Bitch? Oh I’M the crazy bitch?! BET! I’ll show you a fuckin’ crazy ass bitch!”

Toji snorts, pushing back his messy bangs as he blows more clouds into the atmosphere.

“Y’er really sumthin’ else mamas....”

To say Toji is impressed by you is an understatement.

You're confident, not taking shit from nobody—not even your high-ranking yakuza baby daddy.

Toji likes that trait about you—just one of many on the ever-growing list of things about you that have caught his attention over the past few months.

93 days to be exact.

That’s how long it had been since you moved into The Nursery and he first laid eyes on you.

The Nursery—as it is dubbed by those in-the-know, stands as a highrise of luxury condominiums owned by the Yakuza. Located in a luxury suburb of Tokyo, Denenchofu, The Nursery serves as an undercover haven to place the girlfriends, favored mistresses and illegitimate children of relatively high-level yakuza—out of the way.

And with the ease of a fond memory, Toji smirks, remembering the very first day you moved in.

⟡

The unfamiliar keys fumbled in your delicate hand as you had struggled to open the door to your new condo—the condo right next to his own.

Neighbors, eh?

Although Toji couldn’t say he was surprised. He’d gotten a tip he’d be getting a new neighbor but he couldn’t have imagined they’d be someone like you. 

A new mom of about a year—and a foreigner. 

That much he could tell from first glance. 

Your son, whom Toji would later learn was named Yuji, balanced on one hip while your purse and several other bags weighed on the other.

All your frustrations were betrayed in the tone of your voice as you cradled your phone between your ear and shoulder. Whoever was on the other end of the line acted as a sympathetic ear to your exasperation concerning the lack of help moving in. 

You were stressed to say the very least and in clear need of help.

Yet even to a stranger, it wouldn’t take more than a glance to see that Toji wasn’t the type to care about being neighborly—let alone considerate enough to help someone he didn’t know. So when he found himself moving toward you, the warm look of expectancy and familiarity you gave him was surprising.

Before he could even say a word, you turned to him with a bright smile, mouthed a weary yet appreciative ‘Thank you’, and unceremoniously plopped Yuji into his arms.

With one arm freed, you were finally able to open the door to your condo. 

Toji watched as you strolled inside, your bags haphazardly abandoned in the entryway, to survey the luxury condo—all the while still immersed in your phone conversation.

The exchange had left Toji at a loss for words. 

That was not how people typically reacted to him. 

While astute enough to blend in whenever needed, once noticed—a broad muscular man of over six feet, dark features and a deep menacing scar on his lip—to say Toji was merely intimidating would be a vast understatement.

Pocketing the unlit cigarette that had been in his mouth, he wordlessly followed you inside. A rare curiosity overtook him, and he would later be grateful that it had drawn him to you.

Toji’s eyes watched you closely as you moved around the space, but he remained silent, allowing you to conduct your inspection.

Instead, he seized the opportunity to inspect you.

Remaining in the foyer with Yuji, squirming but tucked safely under his arm, Toji’s eyes shamelessly roamed your body. Allowing his gaze to linger on the more curvier parts of you that commanded his attention.

The stretchy black leggings you wore fit on your form like second skin, while the waistband sat low on your hips. The tight material so graciously dug into your curves, showing off the exact shape of your plump backside.

Speaking of—Toji didn’t miss the way your ass nor thighs had jiggled when you swayed your hips, surveying the room.

On future occasions, when Toji had the pleasure of trailing behind you in the hall, he’d have to press his lips into a hard line in order to resist whistling at the sight. 

Toji quickly learned from your constant athleisure attire that you preferred to dress more comfortably.

But comfy didn’t mean frumpy.

On the contrary, from the sleek black italian leather of your Gucci bags and your pristine vintage 5411 sneakers, Toji could tell you were used to having nice things wrapped around your thick serpentine curves. 

But what really consumed Toji’s thoughts as he got to know you better was how, no matter how loose-fitting your tops, tees, and dresses were, they still somehow clung enticingly to the buoyancy of your fucking huge milk swollen tits.

Fuck n' hell—how crazy would it feel if he could just slip his dick between them? 

Toji chuckled to himself. 

He was no minute man but the heavy ripened mounds attached to you would even serve as a challenge for him, he was sure of it.

Licking his lips, Toji reluctantly tore his errant eyes away from your body once you ended your call and turned your attention back to him.

He still couldn’t forget the smile you graced him with upon meeting his gaze. Like a vision, your features sparkled brightly as you openly laughed at the way he was carrying Yuji.

“You might be built like a linebacker, big guy, but he’s a baby—not a football.”

Toji’s pants tighten at your words describing his physique even if they weren’t meant for flattery. 

His assessment of you was compeleted at that moment:

Toji concluded—you were the complete dictionary definition of a MILF in his eyes, and he knew from that very moment—with every fiber in his being—he wanted to fuck you. 

But almost annoyingly, more than that, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt true desire spread anywhere else besides his cock. A strange, almost faint-like feeling constricting his chest simply from the audacity of being in your presence.

“And where’s your boss, huh?” 

You looked skeptical of Toji as you took Yuji back.

The cherry-cheeked boy, thrilled to be in his mama's arms again, giggled and clung to you like a little koala. Toji watched intently, his gaze afix on you as you happily cooed back at Yuji while you gently bounced him.

Toji could have sworn you even had the nerve to bat your long lashes innocently upon glancing back at him for an answer.

It was your was entire aura Toji was utterly captivated by and rendered motionless.

Frozen.

The scene had stirred a feeling he’d thought he’d been numb to since his late wife passed. 

No one else had made him feel that way before or since.

Exactly who in the hell were you?

“Yo! Earth to tough guy! Don’t tell me you’re a mute yakuza?”

The scar on Toji’s mouth twitched. His expression pulling into an amused smirk from your either fearlessness, or just plain cluelessness, in addressing someone of Toji's rank in such a way.

Besides, Toji was a lot of things, sure, but snitch wasn’t one of them.

The mute yakuza you referred to—the ones consequently without tongues—were the only ones he knew of in the organizations.

“Nah, ma I aint.”

Toji dramatically lets his tongue roll out of his mouth for emphasis, taking pleasure in your recoil of him.

His thick appendage flicked salaciously at you and your eyes widened slightly, face warming, before feigning some indignation. 

You’d huffed at him, turning your head away at his display before opting to change the subject, sass still lingering.

“And you're here because…why? Sukuna couldn’t even be assed to make sure his son and baby moms’ moved in safely so he sent you? What?—he’s too busy thuggin’ in the streets?”

From the looks of the pink haired brat with the similar birthmarks under his eyes, it didn’t take much for Toji to deduce that you were put here by Sukuna even before you confirmed it to him. 

Toji had heard a hushed rumor from a while back that Sukuna had a kid with someone outside of the organization.

Tch, Ryomen Sukuna—a relative newcomer for how few years he had been in the organization though he had quickly risen in ranks. 

All due to his ruthlessness and cutthroat nature—taking over a rival organization’s business, which simultaneously gave yours a vast money-laundering front and quelled a long standing turf war in one go. 

Sukuna was a force. 

Dangerous and arrogant to a fault, with a generally unlikeable disposition to top it all off. But his impressive track record earned him the respect he had. 

The smug ornery bastard surely didn’t deserve a walking smokeshow like you. 

But Sukuna had at least done right by you to move you into The Nursery. 

You should be safe here at least—Or you usually would be.

But with the recent assassination of an executive overseas—one of the bosses right-hand men, everyone was on high-alert of potential threats or next targets. 

There was currently no information, nor motive on why this had happened. 

The assumption had been it was an internal coup, a power play—yet anyone with the means or motive had been in Japan at the time—including Sukuna.   

Sukuna had made more than his fair share of enemies during his short-time, even within the organization. It would be no gamble to say the people who wanted after Sukuna wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you or your kid.

Especially those who may have thought he had something to do with this recent upset.

Left to your own devices, you would surely end up dead with the mouth you had on you—but that wasn’t his problem.

Toji smirked. 

“That shitty lil’ rookie ain’t my boss mamas. If anything he’d answer t’me.”

Not exactly a lie—but not quite the truth either. 

As the Yakuza’s most deadly assassin, Toji was given the executive title but had always been a lone wolf in the organization. Toji didn’t necessarily have the direct authority to order Sukuna around, yet given Toji’s standing as an executive, Sukuna still had to show him respect.

Being sold into the organization as a young child to cover his former family’s debts, Toji had more than earned his stripes. Toji was someone, for whom for all intents and purposes, you did not ever want to see—as he would likely be the last person you would ever see should you have the misfortune. 

The rank was given to him more out of fear and reverence for his service to the organization than anything else. 

In contrast, Sukuna dealt in operations, a leader with a growing territory of command along with a unit of kyodai under him. 

Two completely different sectors.

However, Toji doesn’t regret he’d told the little lie as he remembers enjoying the way your face dropped, falling into embarrassment as you began apologizing profusely for the mistake. 

At least you knew better than to sass Sukuna’s superiors, besides, Toji couldn’t really blame you for thinking he was one of Sukuna’s lackeys. 

Toji was still fully suited from just finishing a job. It was rare to see anyone in the classic yakuza attire—a sleek black Hugo Boss suit—who wasn't actively on the clock for the organization. 

When members did visit their family here, they typically wore civilian clothing in order to keep up the clandestine appearances of an ordinary luxury condominium. 

Nevertheless, Toji was one of the few men in the organization who visited The Nursery regularly, rather than casual visits. As a result, it was not unusual for him to arrive dressed in this manner.

With narrowed eyes, Toji's gaze raked over your body again, savoring the way you continued to fluster under his stare. 

He thought he wouldn't mind punishing you for the minor transgression if it meant he could put that sharp tongue of yours to some good use.

A sly grin crossed Toji’s features. 

Towering over you, he savored how small you seemed below him and how tempting you looked, face flushed and tilted up to meet his smolder.

“Tsk, you know yakuza don't take disrespect lightly—so how exactly are you going to make it up t'me then, mamas?”

Toji could tell from the slight crack of amusement in your expression that you didn't miss his innuendo. Not as scandalized as you wanted to appear, you clearly found some humor in his forthrightness—even if you did continuously rebuff him. 

And Toji found he liked that too.

You didn’t take yourself too seriously but you still weren’t an easy girl by any means. 

If Toji were a lesser man, he might have started to drool as the small bow of apology you gave him highlighted the swell of your ample bosom nearly spilled out of your damn shirt, prompting a rough exhale through his nose as Toji tried to restrain himself.

He had forgiven you instantly, of course.

The buoyant visual being payment enough for Toji.

Nonetheless, being the perfect doll you were, you told him that although you didn’t have anything set up to offer him tea, you would bake him something once you were settled. 

Lightening the mood again, Toji chuckled, easing your worries of any lingering offense when he told you his name, mentioned he had a son around the same age, and that he owned the condo next door.

Toji made a mental note of your and Yuji's names as you told him. He took care to repeat your name in particular, letting it slowly roll off his tongue with a hint of mischief.

Your last name was not Sukuna—which pleased him to know that prior intel was wrong.

So you weren’t married to him. 

“Don’t tell me they sent you as the welcome wagon?”

You questioned Toji, interrupting his thoughts.

Toji merely chuckled at your naivety, this was still yakuza territory and the residents here could be treacherous if they found it necessary to be. 

“Heh, not quite. But this will be the warmest welcome you’re gonna get. Consider yourself lucky it was me."

Toji grin widened at your hmphs, and he continued.

"I’d watch your back though, ma. The women here can be just as vicious as their counterparts.”

Toji could tell you were intimidated in the least though, you balanced Yuji on one hip and placed your hand on the other in an obvious display of defiance. 

“I’ll have you know I can take care of myself just fine, tough guy.”

The challenging look you shot at him had pleased Toji.

You had some fight in you—but you had no idea just what you were up against.

Yet just as quickly, Toji’s satisfaction dropped when you followed that statement up with the fact that he should probably leave. 

You mentioned to him you didn’t want any bloodshed—your fears compounded given the current climate of everything—if Sukuna or one of his men showed up and found a strange man in his baby mama’s new condo. 

Toji snorted.

It was true, Sukuna has a wild temper. 

That much was known throughout the organization. 

Pfft, figures an asshole like Sukuna would also be incredibly possessive—but looking at you, who could blame him? 

However, it wasn’t something Toji was concerned with though, even now. 

Toji was one of the few yakuza, even among the executive ranks, who didn’t flinch when they heard Sukuna’s name. Hearing it leave your luscious lips Toji considers it more of a challenge than anything else.

“Bloodshed, eh? Don’t worry ma, I can hold my own.” 

Toji recalled the same tingle reviving in the depths of his chest for the second time as he watched you burst into hearty laughter.

“It’s not you I’m worried about Fushiguro! You think I got the kind of bread to afford a place like this on my own if something happens to Sukuna?”

Shaking his head in amusement, Toji would let you have this round.

“Heh, fair enough, ma—ya can just call me Toji by the way.”

With a playful smile, rolled your eyes at his overt attempt at familiarity, bouncing Yuji once more.

“Goodbye, Fushiguro! I’ll see you around!”

Toji finally allowed you to usher him out into the hallway with a wave as the movers arrived to bring in the rest of your belongings.

Stalling before entering his own unit, Toji listened as you unabashedly gave orders to the movers, taking the unlit cigarette from his pocket and placing it back in his mouth.

Heh, you were bossy too. 

Nevertheless, Toji was left trying to pinpoint exactly what it was beyond him wanting to fuck you that had his adrenaline pumping like crazy.

Or why the intrusive thought popped into his mind to say ‘he’d take care of you’ when you referenced something happening to Sukuna.

He didn’t even fucking know you.

Nevertheless, like a moth to flame from your first encounter, Toji found himself curiously drawn to the warmth and familiarity of your presence. 

The gut urge to look after you—to protect you, bubbling up to the surface.

And being attached like you were to Sukuna, you would need it.

From thereon, Toji would try in vain to shake you from his mind’s eye. That very same night, Toji recalls how he left The Nursery to return back to his Shinjuku penthouse.

Staying there and away from you for a few days. 

Although, he soon learned no matter where he went—thoughts of you followed relentlessly. 

Your alluring charms wove its way into his subconsciousness to taunt him even in sleep. It hadn't even been a week before Toji awoke to soiled, sticky sheets.

It was disgraceful. 

He wasn’t the type to get wet dreams—even back when he was a teenager. 

And seeking out the company of others had failed him too. 

Not even his favorite strippers from the top Minato City clubs he frequented—who were always eager to take him to the back for extra service—could scratch his ever-persisting itch for you. 

No matter how many warm holes he buried himself in, he was still left insatiable and frustrated.

Toji wanted you.

And really, who were you to suddenly insert yourself into his life, infecting him with this affliction for you, but not being his?

Something about you unsettled the indifferent disposition he had resigned himself to. He was no longer able to remain apathetic towards you.

Toji wanted—no, needed—to know more.

To know everything about you.

If only to be able to stop thinking of you, right? 

Toji reasons once learns the truth, exposing to him who the ‘real you’ was, the brain-buzzing visions of you would have stopped plaguing him.

Utilizing his skills as one of the most proficient underworld assassins, Toji had begun discreetly monitoring your comings and goings over the next few weeks. 

When you left for errands. When you checked your mail—what kind of mail you received. Not to mention, figured out a schedule for when that bastard Sukuna would visit you.

Toji figured out what country you came from as well as your hobbies and interests—eagerly soaking up every mundane detail of your life. And contrary to his initial thoughts, each piece of information about you he digested only left him with an unquenchable hunger for more.

Perhaps most importantly, Toji also surmised you were a pretty good cook and homemaker evident by the well-balanced grocery selection you’d purchase. 

Toji's stomach would never fail to grumble upon him smelling the foreign, yet delectable, scents that routinely wafted from under your door and into the hallway most evenings. 

Would you cook like that for him? 

From there the fantasies about seeing you as his wife had come surprisingly easy—something he admittedly did often.

Imagining he’d come home to you, after a kill and dinner would be on the table still warm, though he’d arrive at such late hours. Your kids would already be asleep, and you would be wearing a frilly pink pastel apron—and nothing else.

The more Toji thought of it, the more he craved for that to be his reality.

From that point, Toji found himself giving Megumi’s nanny more and more time off as he’d spent more nights at The Nursery in favor of his much larger Shinjuku bachelor pad.

If only for the slightest glimpses of you.

Toji would eventually come to the conclusion he couldn’t pinpoint a rational reason for continuing to keep tabs on you—except that he simply wanted to. 

So, that’s exactly what he continued to do.

Sure, it wasn’t logical. 

And yet, neither was the growing ache he felt in his chest every time he saw or thought of you. 

Toji's heart feeling simultaneously full and hopelessly barren when it came to you even now.

Toji quickly found that the highlight of his day was catching even a brief glimpse of your warm, gentle eyes and the affection you so openly shared with Yuji. Toji enviously watched the joy you found in your walks together and the way you affectionately cared for and doted on him.

The same affection he still struggles to give his own son.

Not that Toji was ever particularly good at expressing his emotions. 

Call it the nature of the job, but for an assassin, feelings and having something to lose often got you and whatever you held dear killed.

Toji had suppressed his emotions for so long out of necessity, that he didn’t think he was capable of feeling them at all until he had met Megumi’s mother.

Maybe he was growing older and softer, but experiencing the warmth of shared intimacy—even if it was only brief period of time with his late wife—had affected him in ways he wished it hadn’t.

Because all of that was now gone.

And perhaps more ironically, it wasn’t Toji’s violent profession that took his wife away, but illness. Thus, there was no one for him to blame.

No one for him to seek vengeance against but fate itself.

In the wake of her passing, it pained Toji to remember her, so he rid himself of every reminder, including Megumi—who, despite inheriting Toji’s features, had his mother’s gentle spirit.

Choosing to put Megumi in The Nursery was less painful for Toji, who hadn’t spent enough time with his wife to truly become a changed man.

He had only just begun to learn—only caught a glimpse of what a life filled with love could be like.

Love. 

A ridiculous thing, really. 

Since her death, even the word itself had felt like a bitter poison on his tongue.

But could you be the one to change that?

Toji saw in you the same vibrancy and love for life that his late wife had possessed.

And while his infatuation with watching you had grown exponentially over the past few weeks, he was practical enough to wonder if he was simply losing his grip. 

Heh, maybe he’d finally gone off the deep end this time. 

Perhaps it had just been too long since he’d interacted with a woman who had even a hint of a nurturing nature, and he was losing perspective.

The yakuza world didn’t typically attract women like that. 

The Nursery was proof enough—full of kept mistresses and fleeting flings. 

Any beauty these women had couldn’t make up for their shallow dispositions. Spoiled and self-centered, most cared more about the status that came from being associated with high-level Yakuza than about the men they were with. 

The arrangement suited them fine. They were happy to be trophies, to be used, shelved and obedient—whatever it took to maintain their lifestyle.

Toji had his fair share of them, too.

As a high-ranking Yakuza widower with a cute kid, Toji Fushiguro found no shortage of women in The Nursery eager to spread their legs for him.

Most propositioned him outright.

The men, if they suspected anything, weren’t foolish enough to confront Toji. Debatable whether they even cared enough to—these women weren’t their actual wives or legitimate daughters.

That was part of the reason he’d tried warned you about them—but you knew that too well by now, as Toji's cryptic prophecy of the unwelcome behavior had come to pass over the weeks you'd been there.

Seeing fresh blood in the water, the women of The Nursery had made it their mission to belittle you. They’ve assumed you don’t understand the Japanese customs or language well enough, trying to push you around as if you don’t belong. Yet their passive-aggressive isolating tactics failed undermine your confidence, at least from what you would show them. Your sharp retorts often left them stunned and stewing at your complete disregard for their pecking order.

To Toji you possessed a unique strength, and despite their attempts to diminish your spirit, you’ve shown them that you’re not easily intimidated. However, it wasn't fair to you—someone as earnest and good-natured as you should never have been brought here in the first place.

And truthfully, Toji knew Megumi didn’t belong here either, he was legitimate. 

Toji had married Megumi’s mother, she’d been worthy of the title of being a wife—like he had realized you were too.

You deserved to be an actual wife. 

Like Megumi deserved an actual mother.

Like Toji realized he deserved you.

⟡

CRASH— 

Toji snaps back to present reality when the sound of something heavy shattering jolts him from his thoughts. His hand is already on the .45 tucked under his shirt at the small of his back, his assassin instincts kicking in.

Your fights with Sukuna were never quiet to be sure, but they never escalated to the point of anything breaking. 

Yet, showing a rare display of restraint, Toji stops himself.

His errant hand flexes open and closed repeatedly as he suppresses the kill-or-be-killed instincts triggered by the noise.

Focusing in on the light sway of the sheer curtains, a large figure Toji recognizes as Sukuna storms by.

Toji’s stare is so intense it could burn through thick glass and curtains. He would quite literally kill someone just to see through them right now.

Tsk, it makes Toji regret not placing a surveillance camera in your condo.

He would have done it already—upon one of the many times he'd slipped into your apartment over the last few months—if he weren’t almost certain that Sukuna or his shrewd lackey, Uraume, would sniff it out immediately.

No, something like that would be too risky. If ever exposed Toji could lose you for good.

Gripping the railing until his knuckles whitened enough to match your curtains—the thought of not jeopardizing his chances is the only thing that stays his compulsion to leap over onto your balcony and break the sliding door off its tracks completely.

Toji's drive to protect you reaches an all-time high as the unfamiliar feeling of anxiety settles in the back of his throat if something were to happen to you. 

While he clearly holds you in high regard as the mother of his child, Toji knew that even with that respect, Sukuna's tolerance had its limits—and those limits were not easily stretched.

Toji couldn't let anything happen to you due to his own lack of action and yet—

STOP.

Calm down, Fushiguro. 

Toji steadies himself.

Calling upon similar patience he would embody before a kill.

He knows he can’t move rashly, not after all this time—after all he has planned. 

Sukuna would be out of the picture soon. 

Toji would wait. 

Like he’d been waiting. 

It wouldn’t be much longer now.

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

⟢ end credits: how was that so far? like it? please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! stick around for more delulu yandere yakuza!toji. episode 2 has 7k already and is practically done. i have to do the edits my beta suggested and then do a final pass through to add in some foreshadowing :) if all goes well (should post on monday or tuesday).

femzai nation rise up 🩹

Making sure she knows her place <3

Credit: bysophia_xx on reddit

oh please more bunny reader and toji they’re so cutesy. maybeeeee reader has really sensitive tail/ears and toji really takes advantage of that?

tamer! toji who’s the roughest with his little client bunny. well, your previous owner is to blame. he claims that you’re the pickiest, messiest, neediest bunny that needs to be put in her place ; with none other but a little bit of force.

tamer! toji who doesn’t really like rodents , but he assumes he could make an exception for you; since you’re cute and fluffy. just this once though , bunny !

tamer! toji who doesn’t let your brat antics slip past him, and makes sure that you know your place at the end of the day. he can’t let your owners tedious cash payment go to waste !

“d-don’t touch my ears !” you whine, soft sobs spilling from your pouty lips. the man has both your ears in a strong, unforgiving grip, looking to teach you a lesson for sneaking into his washroom for a peek.

the thin, white towel he has around his waist hangs dangerously low and not to mention, loose, and your wandering eyes can’t help but notice the fat chub that shows through the fabric.

“fuckin’ perverted bunny. ya need a whoopin’ to learn yer place ?” he sneers, lowering his face to face yours. you paw at his hand, thumb slipping against his burly fingers, “hn— no— it hurts ! w-was an accident , swear ! i got lost !”

toji can’t help but grin at your limpid lies; he can see right through you, little bunny.

y’r gonna learn not to lie t’me ever again tonight, bunny.”

tamer! toji who carries you towards his bed as you writhe in his grip, ignoring your little mewls and complaints about your sensitive ears as you rub incessantly at the sore flesh.

tamer! toji who bends you over in the grossest arch against his towel-clad lap, feeling his warm skin against yours as the towels knot grows weaker and threatens to slip. he tugs off your soft shorts, revealing that soft, chubby bunny butt.

tamer! toji who’s surprised when he sees how fluffy your little cottontail is, twitching nervously under his gaze.

tamer! toji who even more surprised when he takes a sneak peek at your bunny cunt , just to see how slicked up your chubby folds are, soft hole throbbing with your carnal needs. what a pervert.

“no ! d-don’t look there !” you squeal, frantic paws attempting to scurry away from the man’s grasp.

his hand comes down unexpectedly with a hard smack across your ass, the soft flesh growing raw to the touch. your throat elicits a small gasp of shock, falling pliant against the man’s lap. you’re quick to burst into tears, even if you don’t want to; but it truly hurts so bad!

“bad bunnies need t’learn.” toji coos, kneading at the raw skin. it makes you flinch against his touch. “bad, perverted bunnies.” he whispers against your soft ears, making them twitch.

he tugs at the soft tuft of your cottontail, exposing your puckered asshole soft to the touch.

“n-no!” your tail twitches against his hold, shaky hand coming behind to cover yourself.

“hey.” he spits, a rough hand grappling at the chub of your ass almost like a threat, “y’think y’r in any place to tell me no right now ?”

his hand slaps down against your plush ass once again, the sting inevitable as he holds you firmly. your hands ball into fists that shoot up to your eyes, furiously wiping away at your newfound tears, soft hiccups that accompany your cries.

“that’s it, y’r learning.” you submit helplessly below him, watching intently at your softened ears pliant against the cushion. “y’know what you need to do?”

“m—m sorry. ‘m sorry mister…!” you burst into tears once again, little toe pads curled up into ‘c’s in a fear of feeling his punishing hand on the hot burn of your ass yet again. you don’t know if he’d punish you for your loud cries yet, but you simply can’t hold back. he’s breaking your little bunny heart.

“oh..” he sighs, he feels a tad bit bad; he supposes. he watches as your forearm slaps across your face to hide your expression, your other hand in an attempt to protect your burning cheek. “hey.”

you peek up at him with a tiny stare, hiccups still reverberating through your body causing you to bounce against his lap. you ignore the fat chub that pokes at the side of your tummy, flaunting shamelessly through the fabric of toji’s pants.

“come to this room t’ night after yer duties. y’took yer punishment well.” toji grimes, and he adores the way your eyes light up like diamonds. his friend down below seems to adore it just as much as he does, too.

tamer! toji who sees you peek in half of your head at the designated time that he asked you to come, nervously treading along the glazed floors with a glint of fear that he’ll continue his punishment.

don’t think of him so lowly, bunny. he really isn’t that mean!

tamer! toji who takes care of you that night; after a bit of coercing and getting you on your tummy, ripping your frilly panties from your bruised butt and pressing in a thick plug. he thinks the pink diamond is terribly gorgeous in contrast to your soft tail, twitching with pain at the unfamiliar feeling.

tamer! toji who preps you briefly, leaning down to block your view of his hefty fingers slipping in between your chubby folds. “s—sir!” it’s not like you don’t feel it, but he loves to make a little face at you that makes you look crazy!

tamer! toji who fucks you brutally against his soft matress that night, relentlessly humping into the depths of your gushy cunt. he can’t get enough, truly. you’re one damn bunny.

he watches you skillfully, the little plug snug in your ass squeezing against his cock from the inside. he feels the hard metal that bulges from the other side of your soft walls, grunting at the tightness.

tamer! toji who can’t help but cum fat loads in your cunt when he hears your little cries, sweet yelps for your ‘mister’ to come and save you. it’s even better when they slowly grow to cute moans and pleads to cum all over. don’t worry, bunny. your new mister will be sure to tug at your cottontail and rub your clit, just to ensure his bunny a good time.

ᯓ★ YOU TURN ME ON! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what turns the jjk men on? Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you!

INFO...jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso, higuruma, sukuna) x fem!reader, sexual and non sexual turn ons (kinda), whispering, eye contact, tight clothing, shower sex, p in v, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pheromones (?), mention of glasses (sukuna), facial (sukuna), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

GOJO

gojo loves when you whisper in his ear. Something about you being so close to him, feeling your breath on his skin just does something to him. He gets immediate chills up his body and a small little smirk on his face. It doesn’t even have to be sexual either, you could whisper the most basic shit and he’d be giggling like a school girl cause he just loves hearing your voice in that tone. Now, when it is sexual…that man will nut inside of you without warning. You’re moaning and whispering in his ear? He’s a goner, quite literally on another planet. Nibble on his ear a little and his eyes will roll back. Sometimes you’ll do it in purpose while you two are out in public and he gives you the biggest pout ever. “Baby, don’t do that to me c’mon,” he whines. He damn near dragged you to the car and fucked you in the backseat…

NANAMI

nanami loves eyes contact a little too much. Sometimes it’s intimidating because he’s such a stoic man and doesn’t show very much emotion in his face, so he will just stare at you. But overtime you’ve grown to be comfortable with making eye contact with him, just staring lovingly while he talks about work or whatever. He stares into your eyes so much that he can tell what you’re thinking and feeling. More specifically, he knows when you’re in the mood, the little glint in your eye while you smile at him, looking at him up and down like he’s a piece of meat. In that case, expect eye contact during sex! Nanami loves missionary just looking at you, forehead pressed against yours, and he can’t get over that pleading look, batting your pretty lashes at him while you moan his name. “Yes, right here, baby. Keep looking at me. There’s my girl,” he softly sighs.

TOJI

toji loves tight clothes (no surprise). He genuinely thinks you look good in anything, but something about seeing the outline of your body makes him a crazed man. He will nonstop be touching you, handing on your ass, waist, titties, thighs…he does not give a damn. You could be wearing your pajamas and he will still find you sexy. You bend over in something tight? He’s now hard and has to fix the problem, not that he minds. He bends you over right there on the couch with your shorts around your ankles. It’s date night? He’s excited because you’re gonna wear that new dress he bought you—the one that hugs your body so well, showing off all your curves. Wandering eyes follow your every movement while you get ready and be chews on his bottom lip while he thinks of everything he wants to do to you. “Yeah, doll, I don’t think we’ll be making it to dinner tonight,” he chuckles.

GETO

geto loves soapy titties. Now I know that’s like very specific…but I just see him getting turned on by soapy tits for some reason (I don’t make the rules). He doesn’t care what size they are, what they look like, just throw some soap and water on them bad boys and he’s a satisfied man. Bonus points if you send him an unexpected photo in the shower while he’s away. He almost drops his phone while waiting in line for food because he can’t believe his eyes—your perky nipples and soap cascading down your entire body. Expect shower sex…a lot of shower sex. He will go out of his way to help you wash up, trying to be all nice and polite but minutes later his hands are groping your chest and playing with your nipples, soap running between his fingers while he fucks you against the shower wall. “They look so pretty in my hands, baby. I love ‘em.” He lazily smiles.

CHOSO

choso loves when his hair gets pulled or when you play with his hair. He only discovered this when you were doing his hair and accidentally pulled it and to his surprise (and yours) he let out a small whimper. Now you go out of your way to tease him, tugging at his hair whenever you walk by, giggling when he huffs in annoyance. He likes laying on your chest and you just run your fingers through his hair, he immediately melts into your touch. Oh but Choso definitely likes it when you tug at his hair when he’s eating you out…why wouldn’t he? It makes him so hard when he feels your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling and tugging at it while you basically ride his face for your pleasure. You only tug harder when you get closer and closer to your orgasm and his dick is throbbing. “Yes, yes, pull on my hair, please, please,” he begs.

HIGURUMA

higuruma gets turned on when you smell good, whether it’s your natural smell or your perfume, conditioner, lotion, whatever you use. You’d walk by him one day in the kitchen, greeting him when came home from work and he stops in his tracks and sniffs the air a couple of times because you smell so good…??? Like really good to the point he just wants to devour you, hold you, do whatever to you. He’ll hold you close and just smell your hair, your skin, kissing you over and over while his hands roam your body. And if you wear a scent that evokes memories of you two, like a first date or something like that…he pounces on you like a tiger. “How do you smell so fucking good? God, I could just eat you up right now…would you let me?”

SUKUNA

sukuna loves glasses. Yes I said it. Modern sukuna more specifically cause yk…But he will see a woman with glasses and think about how cute her face looks, how smart she looks…the innocent thoughts at first, and then his evil, horny ass would think about what they would look like when he’s fucking you. He can never be wholesome. Will they fog up? Will you let him cum on them? Do you even keep them on? Will they break if he fucks you too hard? All questions that need to be answered. So yes, he eventually fucks a woman with glasses and god does he love it. He finds it adorable when you push up your glasses every ten seconds cause he’s pounding into you too hard. He loves it when you look over them while giving him head. And yes, they do fog up. “Gonna let me cum all over your face? Yeah..? No, no, keep them on for me,” he devilishly smirks, licking his lips.

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs @sm8th0p @waterfal-ling @bonneyzsk @ventila98

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. His dick twitching pathetically inside you, all the orgasms you’ve milked from him overstimulating him in the best way possible.

Cum leaking out of your overstuffed hole back down into his lap, his pelvis and thighs sticky, obscene squelching noises filling the room as you continue to force yourself to take all of him despite how completely full you are.

He’s not able to help the way he whimpers at it, his eyes teary as he begs, “Please –ngh– fuck– please, God. D-Don’t stop– ah!”

His eyes roll to the back of his head, but his hips continue to hump up into you, desperate to keep fucking himself into you. Hands large on your thighs, gripping into your skin harshly, nails biting at you. He somehow manages to pry your thighs further apart on top of him, his poor, aching cock slipping impossibly deeper inside you.

Your hot cunt clenches down onto him at how he’s fucking up into you deeper, the vice like grip you have on his dick prying another orgasm from him. The moans and whimpers he lets out have you gasping and choking out your own moans, he’s shaking under you. Abs tensing and head dizzy, enjoying himself far too much to let you stop.

Enjoying how much of his cum has been fucked inside you, borderline feral at the lewd display, the mess sticky, wet, making his heart clench in a desperate sort of need he only ever experiences with you.

When you slow down, he’s shaking his head at you, “No– please– don’t– I said don’t stop– hnn–”

Using his grip on your thighs to leverage himself, feet planting on the bed, using his newfound footing to fuck up into you properly. Mouth gaping open at it, barely able to make any noises, brow scrunched, and eyes set intently on how his cock hammers into your sloppy hole.

You might not make it out alive but with how his dick hits you just right, so deep, you really can’t find it in yourself to mind.

ᯓ★ TIED UP! — TOJI + SUKUNA

thinking about tying up big and beefy men like toji or sukuna, pretty rope wrapped tightly around their bodies. His muscles are straining against the rope, marking his skin and he’s getting so frustrated just watching you get undressed in front of him, teasing him. He’s growling and cursing under his breath, feeling so uncomfortable when his dick jumps and pre cum oozes from his swollen tip because he can’t touch himself or you.

He’s shaking in anticipation, a dark, lustful look in his eyes when you start riding him. Your hips are bouncing up and down, walls squeezing around him so deliciously and he can’t help but fight against what’s holding him in place. “You’re so fucked once I get out of these,” he growls, balling his fists up and trying to pull away only to fail. When you know he’s close to his orgasm, you slow down your movements and earn a devilish look from him. He can’t wait to get his hands on you, fold you in half and fuck you until you’re crying.

And god does he lose his mind when you laugh in his face, giggling and mocking him. He knows you’re only being so bold because he can’t get a hold of you. He’d like to see your brave little act once he has your face pushed into the bed and your ass high in the air. But no, that thought never crosses your mind. You’re too busy teasing the head of his cock, just fucking the tip. You know exactly what to do to drive him crazy.

And that mean, dominating behavior drops so suddenly when he’s cumming in your pussy, and you’re kissing down his neck. He hates not being in control but his dick is saying otherwise. You’re smirking against his sweaty skin, still clamping down on him, your walls gliding up and down his shaft. “F-fuck!” He groans, gritting his teeth. He’s so sensitive, so overwhelmed with pleasure, he’s tipping back and forth between melting into your touch and wanting to ruin you because how dare you try and make him submit to you?

His chest heaves up and down, panting heavily, the whites of his knuckles showing when he clenches his fists yet again because he’s so close to cumming again, filling up your pussy just to feel it leak down his heavy balls. “Keep fucking—nngh—laughing. I dare ya,” he huffs, sucking in a breath through his teeth. He can’t wait to see the look on your face when he’s loose, because little do you know…one of the knots untied.

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs

Jeanne d'Arc The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc [1999]

I love how one more time turns into 5 & now I'm a sticky mess who is sore to the touch...

god i would do anything to have a pretty boy leaving hickys and bite marks all over my body rn 😩😩

the clitoris is so awesome

Y'all please look at my glorious commission by @schleepy-bunny!!

It's me bimbo!reader x ghostface!choso from my ghostface!choso fic!! i got the stairway scene drawn from pt 2 fjhdsfkjhsdkjshd

IM GEEEKED AHHHHH!!!! ITS GLORIOUS!!!