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ozzgin · 3 months

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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere demon king #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere oc

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

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Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ a sick baby Headcanons and Imagines list

Am I back with the Dad!Ghost content? You know damn well I am, also yes the render I used is courtesy of our beloved @ave661 who's most definitely annoyed by my existence by now for constantly tagging her.

Will I ever stop writing Dad!Ghost? Fuck no, why? Daddy issues and baby fever, if you want anyone to blame, it's those two. And yes, I will be upset if this doesn't do well. (AHEM, MY SOAP POST)

Taglist of who I this would enjoy this and requested: @puff0o0, @blingblong55, @cutenote, @wise-owl and @connorsui. This last creator by far has given me the best fucking commentary on my work and I have more works on and coming about Dad!Ghost, genuinely thank you so freaking much, you made me cry 😭.

I'M BACK! Let's start, shall we?

❥ Dad!Simon who's a very nervous first time father, well there's a first for everything and so is the first time your guys' baby got sick.

❥ Dad!Simon who immediately got them a check up, it was a common flu. Naturally medication and antibiotics were prescripted.

❥ Dad!Simon whose heart melts once he hears the soft whimpers of discomfort of the little on as they stir in the crib. The soft raspy cries and flushed chubby cheeks and warm, almost burning temperature.

❥ Dad!Simon who is trying his hardest not to look back the car seat when you were on your way to the clinic, to check on the baby whose little cheeks are bouncing a bit while being entertained by their pacifier, the little cooling patch on their head making their forehead crinkle a bit.

❥ Dad!Simon who was amused by how talkative the little one still is despite being so drowsy and in pain. Babbling their little heart out while sniffling.

"Dada!" the little on calls for Simon, almost in a screaming manner if it wasn't for the poor little thing's scratchy and sore throat.

They let out incoherent babbles to Simon as if trying to tell him something, as if they're chatting like they used to, the only adjustments being the constant sniffles and coughs. Them being reduced to their clogged nose while trying so hard to communicate. (Here's your visual)

Simon took the warm baby bottle from your hands to feed the little one.

"Bee, slow down.." A new nickname picked up by Simon to give to your little one, bumblebee, trying to tell them to slow down from chugging.

❥ Dad!Simon who never thought the baby wouldn't get any more clingy, at least not until they got sick. Constantly asking for "dada" and "mama" while he goes on about his day trying to help his wife, you, to keep up with the chores around the house.

❥ Dad!Simon who feels a bit guilty because he loves the comfort he's able to provide the baby, especially that they're not comfortable and less than happy with the sickness. Having the baby on his chest, patting their fragile back gently with a hand that's almost bigger than their body as their dad's heartbeat lulls them to sleep despite being irritable the whole day.

❥ Dad!Simon who slightly chuckles when the baby's breathing starts picking up, their lips trembling into a pout, little doe eyes starting to get glassy from the tears forming with a pitched whimper, only to be silenced by a kiss from both you and Simon. The toll of the sickness only ever being reduced with yours and his affection.

❥ Dad!Simon who joins in when the baby entertains themselves while playing with the various rattles and teething toys.

Bumblebee shaking the tiny rattle, a bit in frustration, knocking their self back. Luckily Simon had intense reflexes and managed to slip his hand in time between the cushioned but still quite hard floor and the baby's tiny head.

Simon let out a breath of relief, "You sure know how to scare me, don't you bee?"

The baby let out a strained giggle as their dad guided them to sit back up by their head and back.

❥ Dad!Simon who tries his best to make the baby take the prescripted medicine, that baby did NOT like the taste of it and he had to resort to sneaking it in their food to hide the taste of the bitter syrup.

"Come on pumpkin, copy dada okay?" Simon whispers while exhaling loudly out his nose, careful with the baby's sensitive ears.

❥ Dad!Simon who makes the little one blow their tiny nose.

The sleepy eyes of the little one trailing on him, trying to observe and copy, blowing their nose on the soft wipes Simon held against their nose.

After wiping it, Simon noticed how their nose now unclogged helped they sleep far more easier and with less frustration from them.

Shout out to a very consistent person who has been liking all the things I post despite them not being actual content @poohkie90 <3

Also I had no idea @simp4konig and I were mutuals, I'M FANGIRLING SO HARD WHEN I SAW THE LIKED POST NOTIF.

Sidenote: I'm sick rn y'all, like it just kept on coming. First was my period, then next thing I knew my nose is clogged and I'm sniffling, then the next I'm coughing and sneezing. There's so much blood rn I can't even. I don't feel good at all but I'm pushing through. Apologies if this was shorter than most if you expected from me, I wanted to elaborate on this prompt however I don't have much ideas so I'm sorry to disappoint.

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

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bi-writes · 14 days

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the knock at his door is a ferocious one. it rattles the hinges, shakes the doorway. it is not a kind knock. it is the knock of anger, of impending terror, of death at his door, but he knows that if he doesn't answer, he will be even more sorry. (ghoap x curvy!fem!reader, 18+, smidge of dark)

johnny isn't happy. he yanks the door open, glaring, knowing who is on the other side. his superior, his lieutenant, the fucking tart that started this whole thing in the first place, the bastard that stands a few inches too tall, is that what she sees in him, too tall, is that much bigger than me, the fucking--

"dinnae want t'talk to ye, ye fuckin'--"

"'f y'know wot's fuckin' good f'ya, you'll shut y'r fuckin' mouth," ghost snaps. his accent is thick and gravelly. he moves over the threshold, pushing johnny back, his eyes dulling over as he presses an accusing finger against johnny's chest. "y'r gonna pick up the bloody phone, 'n y'r gonna call 'er."

"she's a right--"

ghost hisses, a heady growl coming out roughly as he grips johnny around the throat and slams him against the nearest wall. the entirety of it shakes, and the pictures there nearly fall, and johnny chokes as he tries to scramble, but ghost is too strong, too rough, too overpowering. there is something behind his movements, some purpose, and it makes something acidic bubble in johnny's throat.

"don't you fuckin' dare finish that sentence," ghost snarls. "don't care wot it is y'think y'feel, do y'really wanna have tha' on your conscious, y'fuckin' bastard, yeah? want her t'know tha' is the last thing y'called her?"

johnny sputters. he's gasping for air, but it's hard, and his eyes water. even though johnny hates him, even though he loathes the man he used to admire, he knows ghost is right. his lip trembles. it wouldn't be right to say it, it wouldn't be right to call you anything other than what you are, and that is beautiful, bonnie, the stars in the sky and the water in the soil and the dream he always has but cannot remember but one he knows is all he wants and more.

"ye took 'er from me," johnny gasps. "took her from me, and she's all i've ever wanted..."

"took nothin' from ya. now call 'er," ghost growls. "pick up the phone, and y'call her. she's hysterical. 'n i won't 'av it."

"ye won't 'av it? fuck off with ye!"

ghost tilts his head to the side, using his forearm now and pinning johnny to the wall. they meet eyes, and even though johnny pulls a brave face, he is staring at a man who clawed his way out of his grave. a man that endured days of torture and inexplicable horror, that knew the taste of his own blood from another's. johnny is strong-willed, but this is a battle he will not win.

"won't tell ya again," ghost mutters. "i mean tha'."

johnny's tired. he loathes. he hates. he feels sick. he wants to claw and kill and blow something up, but then ghost is letting him go, he's taking in full breaths, and there's a voice in his ear suddenly, an unfamiliar sound of a beautiful voice that he knows. she's crying.

"johnny? j-johnny, i-is that you?"

"mmmph," he coughs. "mmm..."

even riddled with sadness, you sound as pretty as always.

"johnny, i'm sorry," you whimper. he can picture your face, probably a gorgeous pout, tears gathering along your cheeks that normally are from the brunt of his cock, but now they're the proper response from your panic. "johnny, i'm...i'm so sorry--"

"'s..." he hums. "'s a'right, lovey. shhh. quiet."

"johnny, please--please come home, i-i...i can't stand this, i don't want to...i-i--"

"told ye to quiet," he murmurs. "quiet."

and you do, but he knows there's tears, he knows you're probably still there on the other side, your cries muffled into your hand. you probably still look so beautiful, probably sitting there in one of his jackets and nothing else, perched on the bed he shares with you and looking like an entire meal.

"ye lied to me, bonnie," johnny tuts, and ghost steps closer, into his space. watch it, his eyes say, and johnny glares. "why did ye lie?"

you whine, "i didn't know what to say...i...i just thought--"

"ye thought what?" johnny prods. "ye thought i would nae find out about it all? what did ye think, what the bloody fuckin' hell did ye--"

ghost walks forward, enough that johnny is pressed flat against the wall. ghost leans down, tilting his head, close enough that he feels the warmth of johnny's breath as they stare down each other.

"say y'love 'er, johnny," ghost mumbles in his ear. he comes closer, one thick thigh fitting between johnny's legs. "say it."

johnny swallows. "i love ye, bonnie."

a quiet whine, and then your soft voice, "i-i love you so much, johnny--"

"say y'want her, johnny," ghost encourages him, in that low voice that is starting to make johnny's head a little lighter.

"i miss ye," johnny whispers. "sorry for not having me head on right, love..." he hisses when ghost pinches him. "ahh--i want ye. want yer bonnie face...yer bonnie cunt...got to know it. got to know how much i want ye."

ghost shuts his eyes when he hears your breaths. desperate, a little emotional, that beautiful lilt that drew him in the first time.

"tell 'er ye want to eat 'er, johnny," ghost hums. "tell 'er she tastes like sweets." ghost comes closer, his pelvis against johnny's, and there is no space between them. johnny's blue eyes are bright, pupils dilated, and when ghost opens his eyes, they stare at each other, some kind of understanding that they have never had before.

they've been to the same place. they've seen the same eden. the love of the same woman, the taste of the same forbidden fruit, the kind of thing that men like them dream of having but give up for the sake of their sanity--

"want to eat ye, love..." johnny sighs, and his eyes flutter when ghost reaches up and smooths a gloved hand along his throat. his adam's apple bobs, he is so alive, and ghost tuts lowly as he speaks. "taste so good...think about it all the time...about getting under yer skirt," he sighs deeply when ghost's hand moves lower, against his chest, "cum so nice, bonnie, when ye sit on m'face..."

"j-johnny--" ghost grits his teeth when he hears you. pretty baby girl, probably squeezing your thick thighs together, maybe leaning over to show off your soft hips to no one in particular, tits pressed together because your hand is drifting low and circling against you because he knows you probably aren't wearing any fucking knickers, "anything for you, baby...you know i would, you know i'd do anything..."

"i know, my pretty," johnny coos. "will ye wait for me? will ye wait before ye get ahead of yerself, love? ye will, yer a good girl..."

"y-yes--" you whine. "y-yes, i'll wait for you...please come back...please--"

"should i bring back yer keeper?" johnny asks. blue eyes on dark ones, the look of a thousand words, the look of newness, of acceptance, of the power of two being so much greater than one.

two gloved fingers make their way down his throat. petting johnny's pink tongue, stuffing him full, reminding him of his place, where he truly is, where he belongs and where he is always meant to be. he relaxes his throat, and ghost snarls, satisfied, when johnny takes the girth of it easily. he touches the back of johnny's throat, and ghost's eyes flash when he hears your sweet voice on the other end.

"simon...i know you're there. be nice. or we won't get to play."

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gloomwitchwrites · 20 days

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could you do one about all the members of 141 if the reader is super sensitive during sex, squeaks and squirms, cries but she likes it she’s just very responsive

Sensitivity during sex is subjective as everyone is different in that regard. So, here is my little offering to you, anon.

Content & Warnings: unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), dirty talk, missionary, established relationship, teasing, overstimulation, cowgirl, mirror sex, vaginal fingering

John “Soap” MacTavish: Soap is a bit of a tease. (wc: 374) Kyle “Gaz” Garrick: Kyle talks you through it. (wc: 457) John Price: Wants you to watch. (wc: 404) Simon “Ghost” Riley: Simon pins you down. (wc: 391)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is a tease.

“How’s that feel, love?” he croons with a mischievous smile.

You whimper. Gasp. His hands upon your skin are simply too much.

Without an answer, Johnny goes down on one elbow, changing the position. He’s not even thrusting anymore, simply holding himself inside you, keeping your legs spread wide over his large, muscled thighs.

“Can’t use your words?” he mocks lightly as the tips of his fingers tenderly graze over a hardened nipple.

At the same time, he sinks a bit further, thighs spreading slightly, pushing your legs even wider. You’re unable to do much but writhe and wiggle beneath him. He always does this. Always teases. He loves how sensitive you are, and how your body comes alive beneath him. All the little sounds you make, all the sharp shakes and shivers, only motivate Johnny to draw forth more.

“What will happen if I touch you here, hm?” he asks, his hand dipping between your bodies. When Johnny says “here,” he runs his finger around the place your bodies meet.

Your cry is loud, and it only becomes louder when he trails upward to circle your clit. His name is there, on the very tip of your tongue, but each touch is a zap, stealing your voice.

But this touching and teasing isn’t cruel. You love every second. It only makes the end that much more electric.

“And here, love? What would happen?” he murmurs.

While still moving over your clit, Johnny leans forward, his tongue circling and then sucking your nipple into his mouth. Your body immediately contracts, every muscle tensing then relaxing. A little shiver rattles up through your spine and out to the edges of your limbs. It causes you to squirm, the sensitivity nearly overwhelming.

But there is nowhere for you to go. You are not only pinned to the bed by Johnny’s upper body but by his cock.

Johnny releases your nipple, his mouth forming a smug smile. “Suppose you need some relief, yeah?”

You curl into him, fingers digging into his skin. Johnny brushes your hair out of your face, and that too makes you tremble.

“Lie back,” he soothes, and you melt, molding to the bed as he flattens himself above you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle talks you through it.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

“That’s my girl. Look at you.”

Kyle delicately guides your legs toward your chest. You’re bent at the knees, trembling, breathing coming fast and heavy. Every touch of his is like a brand against the skin. It is an overwhelming tsunami.

“Kyle,” you beg. “Please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Maybe for it all to end even though you crave the sensation.

“Gotta control that wiggling love.”

“I—I can’t,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he puts you into position.

Kyle parts your pussy with his fingers and you cry out. He tuts and then inserts two fingers. Your hips instantly buck and your back arches, wanting to escape from him.

“No no. None of that, love.” Kyle lightly presses down on your stomach, holding you still as he curls his fingers up and drags them, repeating the motion.

Again, you cry out, and then tears sting your cheeks as you claw at the bedding.

“Control your squirming and I’ll give you what you want.”

“You’re awful,” you whimper, every muscle in your body twitching, wanting to move.

“Do what I say, love. Know you can.” You inhale and Kyle chuckles softly. “That’s it. Good. Exhale. Again.”

He has you repeat the process until the muscles in your limbs calm.

Kyle’s hands retreat, and then he reclines beside you, rotating onto his back. His hand palms the base of his cock, stroking gently.

“Get on top, love. Hands on my chest. You control the pace.”

With a gentle tremble, you swing one leg over Kyle’s thighs, straddling him. You do as he instructs, placing your hands on his chest and angling your hips. He guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pushing in, stretching you wide, the sensation shooting up your spin and as well as to the tips of your toes.

“I know you can take it. Fuck, love. That’s it. Good.”

You slowly slide down on him, groaning loudly, nails digging into his chest as you impale yourself on him.

“Oh—fuck.” Kyle’s hands are on your thighs, running up and down them in a caress.

It takes every bit of your concentration to focus on the rhythm of your hips. You’re overly sensitive, and this position reaches deep, hitting that sweet spot every time you come down on him.

“Kyle,” you beg, but it’s without meaning. You just need to talk, to say something, to verbalize your need in whatever way you’re able.

His answer is a groan. “That’s it. Fuck, love. You feel amazing.”

Slowly, your eyelids open, and you’re greeted with a beautiful sight.

“Don’t fucking stop,” he says, one hand sliding between your breasts.

John Price

“Look at yourself, love.”

You are unable to move. Unable to squirm.

John has you spread wide over his thighs like a sacrificial offering. His knees are bent toward the ceiling and just parted enough that you cannot move your legs while draped in his lap. He’s got you impaled on his cock, and he is downright fucking smug about it.

While the motion of your legs is useless, you also don’t have your arms. John has them propped above your head because he doesn’t want you touching him or himself. His own muscles forearms snake up and over your upper arms. It allows you no control, but allows John everything. He can touch your breasts like this. He can touch your clit, your neck, and whatever else he wants.

John rocks and rolls his hips, dick appearing and then disappearing back into your pussy. All you can do is flex your hips a bit but it isn’t enough. You are completely trapped. At his mercy. And the sensitivity is overwhelming.

Without any control, you have to submit to John, and while you love it, it only rockets every ripple of pleasure that much higher.

“See what I have to do,” he murmurs into your ear. “You can’t stop moving.”

Tears bloom in the corners of your eyes like tiny dewdrops. You are far too sensitive for this. John is pushing you into overstimulation.

John nips at your earlobe and you gasp. “Look,” he prompts.

The closet door is open. Not by much, but enough that the mirror that hands on the inside faces the bed. Within, you see yourself, and John. You see how splayed out you are, how needy and pathetic you look in his arms.

“Look,” he says again. “Want you to watch.”

It takes all your effort to focus. Every time John rock his hips upward, his brush of skin against you is fire. It causes everything in you to react and jump. But you cannot writhe. Cannot move.

And that only makes you more frustratingly coiled with untamed need.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyelids heavy as you gaze upon the spot where your bodies meet, and how much your body stretches to accommodate him. You can see how your chest heaves, the tightness building and overwhelming your senses.

“Now you see what I see,” murmurs John as his hand delves downward to give you some relief.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Quit your squirming.”

“Then don’t be cruel,” you moan, nearly jumping out of Simon’s arms when he sharply thrusts upward.

Simon’s teeth nip at your throat and this time your body jerks, almost sending you out of his lap.

“Stay still,” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You know how sensitive I am.”

“I do. Fucking love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s an embrace, and yet there is power behind it, the muscles there tensing with anticipation. You inhale, and your exhalation is stolen from you.

Simon twists, and you go with him, rolling onto your back.

You squeak loudly only to be pinned against the bed. “Simon—”

He crushes his lips to yours, his tongue delving for your taste. The only sound you make is a whimper. “But sometimes,” murmurs Simon against your lips. Your squirming gets in the way.”

Using his body weight, Simon drives in at a harsh angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. That vibration of pleasure ripples outward, and your body reacts as it always does. But you cannot writhe and wiggle. Simon is too heavy, and he knows this, which is why he’s pinned you.

“Oh—fuck. Simon. Plea—. Please.”

“Please what?” laughs Simon softly before moving inside of you again.

The only reply you can make is a strained moan.

Simon grins, completely smug. “Tuck in, love. I’ll give you something to squirm about.”

Simon wraps your wrists up in one hand, pinning them above your head. He starts to thrust in earnest, his free hand holding the side of your throat. He watches on as tears come to your eyes. Your body wants to move, to buck and arch against him, but you are completely trapped.

Simon leans in, kisses the spots on your cheeks stained with tears. The only thing you can move are the bottoms of your legs. You wrap your ankles over his bulging calves and cling.

Every stroke and brush of his skin against yours is a roaring fire, rocketing you toward overstimulation. Words fall from your lips but they are elusive, just white noise in your ears. You know that you’re crying, that you’re speaking to him, that you’re attempting to move.

But Simon is relentless, claiming every inch of your body like he always does.

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@kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi

@lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez

@gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @glassgulls

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riboism · 1 year

Text

speed

》 pairing: c.s x f!reader, j.wy

》 genre: smut

》 wc: 1k

》 content: drug dealers! woosan, reader is san’s gf and woo may or may not have a crush on her, voyeurism, voyeur! woo, no mentions of drug use or violence, backseat fucking, reverse cowgirl, pussy slapping.

》 a/n: had to take a break after seeing that woosan outlaw trailer and write this…I literally can’t stop thinking about it.

🎧 speed- kali uchis

Tensions were high, and it didn’t help that Wooyoung’s delivery guy was 20 minutes late and counting. The exchange didn’t go as well as he had hoped, and he figured some fried chicken from this new place that opened downtown would offer him some solace. He noted that this was the first and last time he would order from there.

His partner San had his own way of dealing with stress. A very loud and obnoxious way. Being forced to listen to you and San go at it like wild animals while rattling the van from side to side really didn’t help make his hunger pains go away any faster.

“God damn it, can you guys keep it down back there?” He spat, losing his count of the wad of cash in his hands.

Neither of you heard him, not over your loud moans. You were sprawled over San’s lap with your back facing him, his fingers grasping on to your waist tightly as he fucked up into your pussy at a harsh pace. You had started off slow and steady, mindful not to make too much noise so as to not bother your boyfriend’s work associate, but San was always impatient, especially on nights like this, and he found your pace a little too slow for his liking. So he decided to take matters into his own hands- literally. He was holding onto you so tight that you were sure it would leave a mark. And as for you, well you tried your best to be quiet, but it was hard when San used you like his own personal cocksleeve. He rolled his hips up to your cunt, his hard tip reaching deep inside your sweet spot, and you two filled the van with the sounds of your guttered moans and slapping skins.

Growing agitated, Wooyoung slammed his hand on the front dash of the van to grab both your attention. “Hey! Wrap it up already, I got shit to do!” He waved the wads of cash in his hand so that San could see.

“Shut up or it’s my cock down your throat next!” San huffed, his thrusts getting harder and faster. San always respected Wooyoung, but his obedience would disappear the moment he’d stuff his cock inside of you. There was no way of getting him to listen now, and Wooyoung knew that. Annoyed with his distasteful words, and too exhausted to quarrel any longer, Wooyoung slumped back into his seat and started his count all over again.

As he swiped each bill through his fingers, his eyes would occasionally glance up at the rear view mirror where he’d get a quick peek at you two. He always thought you had a pretty face, but your body was something else. He was mesmerized by the sight of your soft breasts bouncing up and down as San worked you open from behind. His gaze lingered down on to your wet cunt. He couldn’t understand how something so small and delicate could take something so big and ugly like San’s cock. Maybe it was weird to think this way, but although Wooyoung was smaller, he thought his cock looked a lot prettier than San’s. Shaking his head, he looked back down at the cash and continued his count.

“Fuck, Sannie, f-feels so good! Gonna cum!” You cried. Your moans grew loud and raspy, and Wooyoung had no choice but to look back up at the rear view mirror. Your sounds alone made his pants tighter but seeing you rub and tug your clit while San continued fucking you made a wet spot form in his boxers. Spreading his legs, Wooyoung couldn’t help but palm over his erection while watching you in the mirror. He thought you were so tight and that you took him so well, and all he wanted to do now was cum at the same time as you.

“Pretty baby gonna cum for me? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?” San grunted into your ear. His hands slid up to your breasts, kneading them as continued thrusting. You were so wet now that Wooyoung could hear your squelches from up front, and god did it almost destroy him. He stuffed his hand into his pants, rubbed his thumb over his slit, and licked his lips as he watched you turn into more of a hot mess over San’s stiff cock. He noticed your eyes getting droopy and your breathing getting shakier.

“Go on baby, cum for me,” Wooyoung whispered to himself. “Be a good girl and cum.”

Right on demand, your thighs squeezed together as a rush of warmth filled up your stomach. Your whole body crunched over as you came until finally your body gave up and you fell back into San’s chest. Your legs opened up again, giving Wooyung a great view of the milky white cum leaking out of your pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes” Wooyoung mumbled as he stroke himself. “Good girl,” he breathed as his hips jolted up. Your leaky cunt was the last push he needed to cum, forcing him to press his eyes shut and use his free hand to cover his mouth to mask his moans. Once he finished, he carefully peeled his eyes back open and hesitantly looked up at the same mirror, relief rushing over him when he realized neither of you noticed.

“Good fucking girl” San praised, striking your sensitive cunt with his hand. You yelped at the impact before giving him a giggly kiss.

Up front, Wooyoung cringed seeing you two kiss. He felt good during his orgasm, but now he was annoyed again. Annoyed with the failed exchange, annoyed with the late delivery person, and annoyed with the fact that he has to sit around in his soiled underwear while listening to you two smooch each other’s faces off. He thought it was more insufferable than hearing you two have sex.

“Offer’s still on the table, you know,” San winked teasingly. Wooyoung saw San looking back at him in the rear view mirror, a smug look plastered over his face as you kissed along his neck. Wooyoung’s face wrung up in a scowl once he remembered the gross comment San made to him earlier.

“Fuck off.”

#wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut #choi san smut #ateez smut

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diejager · 9 months

Note

Yandere Pyramid what if he gets reader pregnant Just go crazy with this hahaha

(IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE I DON'T KNOW BUT WITH HIS AMOUNT OF CUM I WOULDN'T DOUBT IT)

Paring : YANDERE Pyramid Head x fem!reader

Cw: smut, possible NON-CON/DUB-CON, tentacle tongue, possessive behaviour + sex, breeding, pregnancy, creampie, belly bulge, tell me if I missed any.

Wc: 674

He'd go wild at the idea of knocking you up, watching your soft stomach bloat with a new life and your breasts swell, nipples leaking milk that he could suck until his kid came out. He'd fuck you until you get pregnant, stuffing you with his cum and his cock, keeping every little swimmers inside your bulging heat. He liked watching you strain around his girth, walls twitching and closing tightly around him, your cries echoing under his metal pyramid.

It's a ritual, every night, any spare moment, he'd have you sprawled under him, rutting his length into your red, swollen cunt until you grew limp, a little cumdump for him. His bulbous tip kissed your cervix, pushing against your womb's entrance and pumped generous load after generous load into your warm, fertile womb, a virgin to childbirth.

Whether he had you under him, pounding away the hours of the night - or day if he felt like it - over him, riding his thick and veiny cock until your slick covered his whole abdomen, or against a wall, rattling the structure with his punching thrusts when felt especially feral; he made sure to cover you in his musk, body smelling of him with reminders of last night, dark bruises marring your skin.

They were brandings of the finest he could give (other than his seed branding your spasming cunt as his little cockdrunk survivor.) to show others who you belonged to. He's had his possessive strikes, growling at killers and survivors who got too close to you for his liking, waving his broadsword and shaking the ground in strong ripples.

Pyramid Head was exceptionally possessive, being a creature of grief and regret created for a sole purpose, granting him nothing to his name or soul to own. Such a situation makes a person - any person - possessive of their things, like a child deprived of toys and love, they grow possessive and careful.

And to add a child, some would think he'd hate his child for taking most of your attention, your affection and your time, but this child was from yours and his blood, a creation of yours. It was the second thing he could call his own, a living being - beside you - he could care for and nurture, it played with a more domestic side of him. It would simply mean he'd take more drastic and scary measures.

Just a big, broad Pyramid Head growling at anyone with his equally big toy in hand, truly the scariest guard dog in The Entity's world (Guard dog privileges+).

Extra: during the pregnancy

Man is oblivious to the struggle of women, especially pregnant ones. Mood swings and odd cravings make him scratch his head in confusion. Was it safe to eat pickles, then peanut butter and tuna in a sitting? Would it be bad if you woke up in discomfort and your stomach was ready to empty itself?

He's as clueless about childbirth as a baby, every step had to have help from The Nurse and The Doctor, both having some experience with pregnancies in their previous lives. Reluctantly, he'd call for them once he sees you hunched over a bowl, puking yesterday's food. If there was a step-by-step book about pregnancies, perhaps a 101 tips about pregnancies for noobs, Pyramid Head would need it, he needs all the help he can get.

He knows not fuck you, naturally, for the safety of his child. That, however, doesn't stop him from pleasing you, using his thick fingers to pump and curl into your upper wall and flick your swollen clit when your hormones act up and you get horny; or he'd tonguefuck you into overstimulation, with his tentacle-like tongue that slithers from under his mask, long and wet. He's agile with it, twisting his tongue in every sense and curling it into a ball to fuck you.

He's talented with his cock, his fingers and his tongue, nothing can stop him from caring for your needs, he's skilled in many ways.

#yandere x reader #pyramid head dbd #pyramid head x reader smut #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head #pyramid head smut #dbd smut #dbd x reader #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight smut #dead by daylight x reader #Dead by daylight pyramid head #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x you

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faebaex · 5 months

Text

Tangled in Wonderland - Tall, Tall Tales

author note: Eeeeek this is very, very late! A lot of stuff has happened and yada yada but I’m here and I’m sorry! I’m still going to continue with this and I hope I can get back on track with writing this because I’m really enjoying this event! This instalment follows on directly from the Scarabia one, I hope you all enjoy!

characters: Floyd Leech x GN!Reader

“SHRIMPY!”

Oh no.

Your whole body froze up in an instant at the sound of that familiar, unhinged voice. Clearly, fate had decided you hadn’t gone through enough punishment today and decided to add a little bit more spice to your day. And by spice, it meant perhaps one of the most chaotic entities you have ever met. You looked around wildly, trying to spot him as quickly as you could so you could run. He was right on the path leading up to the Hall of Mirrors, roguish grin on his face as he waved both his arms at you. Your only choice was to go back inside and escape through one of the mirrors.

“Stay away from me, Leech!” You snapped, not even bothering with your usual faux attempt to be cordial as you turned on your heel, bolting towards the mirrors. If you could just get through the Heartlabyul mirror, you’d be—

“Aha~! Got you.” Breathed a husky voice right by your ear, suddenly tugged straight off your feet and into the air by the lanky arms that coiled around your midsection, your back flush against his chest.

“Shrimpy is so mean, callin’ me by just my last name! Even when I’ve gone through all the effort to give you a lil nickname too!” Floyd mourned, swinging you around the Hall of Mirrors, your legs swinging perilously out in front of you whilst you clutched onto his arms for dear life and let out a small, undignified scream. “Aah, maybe you thought I was Jade? Because I was really far away? Then maybe I can forgive you, Shrimpy…” His sharp teeth were uncomfortable close to your ear as he let out a little laugh, “or maybe I can just keep spinnin’ you around!”

Floyd picked up the speed of his spinning, his manic laughter drowning out your screams and for a moment, you thought this might be how it all ended… But then you remembered, the Leech twins thrive off of fear in their victims, so you sucked it up and started hitting him on his arms to get his attention. If your legs ended up breaking one of the mirrors, you’d never hear the end of it from Crowley…

“P-put me down, Floyd! I am not a toy!” You cried out, and thankfully your repeated hitting of his arms managed to get his attention, for he finally slowed to a stop. The world spun around you, making you semi-grateful for his arms around your waist. They were the only thing holding you up, at this point.

“Eh? Are you sure you’re not a toy? Azul said somethin’ real interesting the other day…”

Uh oh.

“Did he now…” You remarked, feigning disinterest as best as you could as your vision finally began to right itself again.

“Mhmmm~” Floyd mused against your ear, and you just knew this couldn’t be good, “he said you know things. Things that you should have no way of knowing. Kinda like one of those magic 8 ball things.” Floyd continued, before his mouth split into a broad, terrifying grin. “Maybe if I shake you a little, you’ll tell me all sorts of things too.”

“Floyd, don’t—”

It was too late. You clung to Floyd’s arms as he began to shake you erratically, like you were a chocolate bar stuck in a vending machine. Your head collided with his shoulder multiple times, not hard enough to hurt but definitely jarring in its own way as the world once again became dizzying. Floyd seemed to be enjoying himself, his mocking laughter filling the small hall as he watched your rattled expression.

“Oh magic Shrimpy ball, oh magic Shrimpy ball,” he chanted as he continued to shake you, finally beginning to slow down as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “why did you walk out of the Scarabia mirror just a moment ago?”

Ah, of course he saw that.

With as much strength as you could muster in your dizzy state, you threw an elbow back into his chest, feeling some satisfaction when you heard him let out a small ‘oof’. “That’s none of your business,” you grumbled, your lips turned downwards in distaste. “and that isn’t even how a magic 8 ball works! You’re supposed to ask the question first and then shake it… Don’t start shaking me again!” You quickly warned as a follow up, turning your head to give Floyd a glare. He just gave you that little frustrating grin right back.

“It’s not my fault Shrimpy, I have all this pent-up energy ‘cause you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.” As if to punctuate his words, he started to squeeze you, and you found yourself once again whacking his arms to get him to release you.

“Floyd! There is no need—” You gasped out, feeling some of your joints cracking harmlessly from the pressure but a tightness building near your ribs that promised pain if he didn’t stop soon. You gasped out a breath when he finally eased up his hold, but very nearly choked when you realised he was waltzing right towards the Octavinelle mirror.

“Floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Shrimpy, don’t feel like it. Let’s hang out!” Floyd responded in his usual lackadaisical manner, stepping through the Octavinelle dormitory mirror without pause. It was odd, feeling the usually surreal feeling of a bubble forming around you as you floated towards the dorm, but on top of that, Floyd was still holding you, back flush against his chest with your legs dangling in front of you. You can’t imagine how ridiculous it looked.

Floyd walked you straight into the Mostro Lounge without a care in the world, heading straight for one of the unoccupied booths.

“Oya,” you heard another terribly familiar voice as you passed the bar, “I see you have acquired a valuable customer, Floyd. Please enjoy your stay.” Jade hummed with a short bow, not even bothering to hide his toothy grin as he observed your plight. You didn’t even get a chance to scowl before Floyd was bundling you into a booth, none too gently either.

“What? You told me to put you down.” Floyd drawled when you shot him a glare, sitting opposite you and spreading himself out on the available space. He leaned his elbows onto the table, propping his head up with one palm as he stared straight at you.

“Ne, Shrimpy… Why don’t you tell me what you said to Azul the other week to make him come back all shaken up?” Floyd hummed, his smile seeming playful, but you could already see the predatory glint in his eye.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, unsure of what Floyd’s motive was here.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You responded demurely, keeping tight lipped. Floyd’s smile widened, sharp teeth on full display as he leaned forward. “Don’t be like that, Shrimpy! You should have seen it, it was hilarious!” Floyd cackled thumping his hand on the table in front of them, “he came rushin’ back to the Lounge, all pale faced and jumpy, and then locked himself in the VIP room.”

A cocktail glass filled with a blue liquid and decorated with a star shaped garnish was elegantly placed in front of you. A similar glass was placed in front of Floyd. “Yes, Azul was very startled when he returned to the Lounge the other week. We were very worried.” Jade confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, faux concern colouring his tone, but the amusement shone through his close eyed smile.

“I didn’t order this.” You responded dryly, as Floyd already pulled his straw to his mouth and took a gulp from his drink. “Aww just try it Shrimpy, it’s my own recipe! It’s good, see!” He stuck his tongue out, revealing his stained bright blue tongue. You pushed your glass away from you. Yeah, you definitely weren’t going to be trying that.

“I’m positively hurt, prefect. I mixed that with care, just for you.” Jade hummed, his eyebrows down turning in a look of fake hurt. You ignored him.

“We could hear Azul muttering to himself in the VIP room. ‘Who are they’, ‘how do they know that’. He got so mad when we used Jade’s key to unlock the door. You should have seen his face, Ahaa~”

“You spied on your own friend? You guys are ruthless.” You commented casually, and Floyd only grinned at you wider, Jade’s expression not changing from his solemn one.

“The VIP room was quite the mess, too. Papers all over the floor. Azul wouldn’t even let me help him clean it all up, it must have taken him hours.” Jade added, his smile looking more and more devious by the minute.

“So tell us what you did, Shrimpy.” Floyd prodded.

“Yes tell us, prefect.” Jade coaxed.

Both of the Leech twins stared you down, razor sharp smiles on their faces as they attempted to intimidate you into revealing what happened between you and Azul in the library that day. You were starting to see now why Azul insisted on referring to them as just colleagues.

You were in a bit of a bind here. You expected the stunt you pulled on Azul to have some backlash, and you really didn’t want to make the Leech twins anymore interested in you than they already were. And for whatever reason, Azul hadn’t divulged what you had said to him to Jade and Floyd, who were his closest confidants. Or, this was some sort of elaborate ruse that they had strategized to wheedle the information out of you. Either way, you thought you should probably tread with caution here…

… But Azul had been bothering you again lately…

You leaned back into your seat, looking sheepishly away from them both and staring at the smooth pearlescent surface of the table. “I don’t know guys, it’s kind of… Embarrassing…” You muttered. You caught Jade and Floyd sharing a look between each other before they leaned in closer, like sharks tasting blood.

“Ne, it’s okay, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

“It might make you feel better to get it off your chest, prefect…”

Hook, line and sinker.

You glanced up at them, the both of them leaning in uncomfortably close but you masked your distaste by rubbing your arm, as if you were feeling flustered by just thinking about the situation. “Well, um…” You began, pausing for dramatic effect, Floyd leaning in closer in anticipation and Jade nodding gently, as if the comfort you for the difficult story you were about to tell.

“Azul had been visiting me in the library after classes for a few days… We were getting along really well… It was, well… It was nice to have a friend. It’s hard sometimes, being the odd one out…” You sighed softly, really hamming it up for them. They were eating it up, leaning closer as you continued, “but Azul never made me feel like that. He was always so kind, so welcoming.” You smiled for a moment, before you face dropped and your lips pressed together into a tight line. “But then…” You hesitated again, your expression creasing into a distressed frown.

“Did something happen, prefect?”

“Yeah, yeah! Tell us Shrimpy!”

“Well… One day suddenly, he… Asked me on a date… But…” You started, but then you covered your face with your hands and shook your head, “oh I can’t say it, it’s just so… So humiliating!” You cried out, your voice muffled by your hands. Floyd and Jade were watching with rapt attention, Jade not even able to hide his obvious enjoyment at both your perceived distress and the opportunity to get some dirt on Azul, whereas Floyd hadn’t been hiding his excitement in the first place.

“But what, Shrimpy?”

“Please prefect, if you tell us, perhaps we can put your mind at ease…”

Slowly, you uncovered your hands from your face, to see the eager faces of the Leech twins nodding at you encouragingly. You leaned in close, and they followed suit, all three of you huddled together in the booth almost conspiratorially. You looked around nervously, before you continued in a hushed whisper.

“I had to turn him down… He got a little upset, understandably. He couldn’t see why I didn’t like him, why I wouldn’t give him a chance…” Floyd and Jade shared a discreet look at that, because that definitely sounded like the Azul they knew. “I tried to comfort him, to tell him that I thought he was a great guy and it was me not him but he just wouldn’t listen! So I had to tell him the truth…” You winced, wringing your hands together. If Floyd and Jade leaned any closer, you’d all be bumping heads together.

“The truth, prefect?”

“Ne, you can tell us, Shrimpy…”

You swallowed, before looking up at them with your best puppy dog eyes. “Okay, please don’t say anything but… … …”

“… I’m allergic to octopus…”

The table fell silent. Floyd and Jade stared at you, motionless, as you peeked up bashfully at them. Then suddenly, Floyd was roaring with laughter, his loud cackle making several of the customers in the Lounge jump in surprise. His hand thumped the table several times, knocking over his drink and sending the bright blue juice spilling all over the shiny white surface and onto the tile below. Jade effortlessly sidestepped before the mess could hit his shoes, but his shoulders were visibly shaking as his hand tried to hide his laughter

“Oh prefect… I’m so pffft… Ahem… I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jade attempted, hand still propped to his chin as he tried to compose himself, rather unsuccessfully screamed with laughter beside him.

“What is going on here?!”

A voice hissed through the Lounge, but the twins didn’t even flinch. If anything, it just sent Floyd into fresh peals of laughter, flopping down on the booth seat as he held his stomach.

Azul stood a few feet away, obviously brought out by the commotion and chaos that was currently happening in your booth. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting there, but he quickly schooled his face again, a detail that Jade caught, making him unable to resist his own toothy grin.

“Jade, you are supposed to be managing the bar. And Floyd, stop that racket right now and get changed. Your shift started thirty minutes ago! And clean up that mess!” Azul ordered with a stern expression, before his eyes landed on you, his lips pursing together, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t disturb them when they are working, prefect.”

You held your hands up defensively as you started to shimmy out of the booth. “Actually, I was just leaving.”

Your words breathed some life back into Floyd, who’d finally recovered from his laughing fit to sit up and climb out of the booth himself, a rapturous smile on his face. “I’ll walk Shrimpy to the door~!” He announced, throwing a heavy arm around your shoulders before you could rebuff him.

“Floyd! You’re supposed to be—”

“I’m terribly sorry for my negligence, Azul. I was just trying to comfort our dear customer over their recent romantic distress.” Jade chimed in, and the only way you would be able to describe the grin on his face was feral. Floyd began cackling again, using Jade’s distraction of Azul as an opportunity to whisk you away and get out of work at the same time.

You pondered whether you should feel bad for setting up Azul for at least a week’s worth of ribbing from the Leech twins as Floyd steered you towards the Octavinelle mirror, but then you remembered he put an anemone on your cat. And Ace and Deuce. Suddenly, your shoulders felt a lot lighter. Well, they would, if Floyd’s lanky arm wasn’t still around them.

Floyd kept his arm around you right until you reached the exit of the Octavinelle dorm, but you chalked it up to him being on a good mood high because of what you’d just told him and Jade. But just as you were about to duck out from under his arm, you felt his hot breath against your ear for the second time that day.

“Ne, Shrimpy. Are you allergic to eel too?”

Before you could even react, you were getting sucked up into one of those magical bubbles again as it began carrying you towards the Octavinelle mirror, your expression bewildered as you stared back at Floyd, who sent you off with a cheeky grin.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

587 notes · View notes

scruus · 11 months

Text

★̶̲ [𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞]

✎ sub afab howl + dom gn amab reader notes: edging, vibrator, rope binding and blindfold, begging, rough sex, degradation, tummy bulge, mean reader, howl is possessive; part 2 of this fic.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ you put a spell on me - austin giorgio

Howl’s legs thrashed against the mattress, body writhing against the covers and desperate sobs turned to screams as you snatched away another orgasm from reaching him.

The pink vibrator which was covered with his dripping slick and fluids was pulled inches away from his trembling hole. Clit so red and puffy, so neglected and almost numb because of the repeated orgasm denials. Nerves on fire as his thighs quaked from the rejection.

“Oh god! please let me cum”, he cried, hands clenching into fists which rattled against the headboard, trying to overpower the ropes binding him. He couldn’t. You had laid a spell on them and they wouldn’t untie unless you said so.

Howl knew that, obviously. He was the greatest wizard of the empire! He knew all your tricks. But there was an unspoken rule between the two of you in situations like these. He will submit or you shall make him.

“You s-said you would let me!!”, needy wails so loud everyone could hear it within a few metres of your apartment. Surely, the couple next door won’t come knocking the next morning.

Your fingers trailed down his chest, dancing in rhythm and humming along to his pleas. Such heavenly music.

Slowly, they would circle around his puffy nipples and flick it. However you weren’t entirely mean! Oh no no! You would brush out the hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, or just lean over and press kisses on his quivering lips that were covered in saliva. An act of mercy maybe?

The blindfold was only preventing howl from seeing your face but every touch lingering on his body was enough to tell him of the expression. Grinning, eyes laced with a sadism only he could ever be a witness to. Something playful yet sinister. And fuck did that make his already aching clit throb!

“Aww look howl, the cloth is all wet!”, you mumbled, tracing a line along the blindfold, brows furrowing up.

“Its soaked with your pretty tears”, pouting you wiped the few droplets that were still trickling down his cheeks, a result of the consequent edging that was slowly pushing him to the tip, “-that won’t do”, you shake your head.

With shuddering breaths, “p-please i want your cock please~”, he pleaded, trying to get you to finally give in. To let him feel you buried in his warm walls after being such a good boy. Its been so long now, his entire body was furious. His insides burning with a frustrated desire you just wont allow.

“hmmm…”, you nodded, slipping your hands behind his luscious head of hair and untied the fabric with the spell, ignoring the drowsy smile tugging on his lips. Howl’s eyelashes fluttered, looking up to you seated in between his wet thighs. Shirt discarded on the floor so you could feel his stare run down your abs.

Ocean eyes trying to study smiling lips and that cocked eyebrow of yours.

His unfocused gaze lingered down to your crotch and he licked his lips, salivating. Your pants were hardly able to conceal how fucking hard you were. It looked like your shaft would rip out into the open any minute now. As if you were under the restraint of that fabric.

Chuckling softly, you unbuckled your belt and zipped down your pants. Look at how he eyes it, you squint, so eager. Reaching inside your briefs, you took your hard cock out and hissed feeling your warm hand enclosing around it.

Breathing in a whiny moan, howl’s legs closed in on one another, maybe in an attempt to rub himself. The heat was spreading under his skin and prickly bumps adorned his limbs. You didn’t even touch him yet he could feel it all. All of you. Deep in his bones.

Your leaking dick looked the prettiest in howl’s manicured, prim and proper hands but right now it was getting catered by your own. Throbbing and pulsing so much, howl could count each vein popping out along the length. His heart pounds against his chest, yearning hole clamping on nothingness.

Did you get huge suddenly? because for some reason your cock looked a bit more bigger than usual. Was it a spell? Or was howl just way beyond horny, in a realm of pure lust?

“ohhh…”, howl whined, as the thought of you stretching his cunt out, burned into his marvellous mind. All those times when you were trying to just accommodate your thick tip in at first, gently, afraid of hurting him. And then slowly pushing it all the way in until his blurry vision could see stars.

“shhh…you’ll get it if you’re a good boy”, you moaned. stroking your length up and down as pearls of pre cum dripped down on howl’s thighs. Your eyes run over his pussy lips, peeking at you and the swollen pink nub begging for attention.

Well as much as howl wanted to drool all over that fat fucking cock and take it all down his throat until he chokes on it, it was a plan for another day. For now, he just wants that hot thing ramming inside of his empty dripping cunt and his hands clinging on to you until your chest and back were decorated with pretty marks. A practice of showing everybody who (y/n) belongs to.

“daddy…untie - please”, he asked, sniffling his whimpers in and biting his bottom lip. Ah! The signature puppy look. The hidden ace up his sleeve which you can never turn away from. Come on now, he is your baby. Your perfect boyfriend. The love of your life. Doe eyes which were covered with a glassy sheen, trying to pull you in a hypnotic maze. Naive and innocent.

You will listen to him right?

You laughed, hands coming down to grip his thighs and harshly pushing them wide apart, “oh no no love, you’re not getting to touch me”, his folds being parted by your fingers while your thumb dragged across slit.

His eyes widened, lips parting in surprise, what?, a shaky breath leaving them.

“no…no no no why? whyyy??”, he cried. His arms trying to move and flail around, reaching out for you through the tied ropes, but failing to do more so than just a few jerks. He wants to touch you so bad. He wants to have your body rubbing against his. His hands scratch down your back while you kiss his lips.

“fuck wh-“, you smacked your palm across his cunt, sending jolts of pain. Howl choked out a garbled moan at the impact, head jerking back.

Did you just spank his cunt?! You never did that before!

“Shut the fuck up bitch”, you spat as your palm slapped his clit again, the other pushing his leg down and refusing to let them close in on reflex to the stinging pain. “You think I would listen to you after you were fingering yourself out in the living room like some slut?”, another smack. Howl’s cries upped a pitch as his hips stuttered, tingles firing up in his poor bud.

Fuck it felt so good when you degraded him and roughed up his dripping pussy like the dirty whore he was. His face was a flaring red, eyes all hazy and prickling with a new set of ready-to-spill tears.

“What if my friends had come in with me? huh?”, you scowled, getting annoyed at the thought, “but lets be real, you would have actually liked that wouldn’t you howl?”

Howl nods in response, those glassy tears streaming down his rosy cheeks while his chest heaves up and down. His pulsing hole getting wetter with each passing second and his mind, a foggy mess.

“Would have liked to be fucked by your daddy in front of everyone and bred like a greedy cockwhore? wouldn’t you?”. Oh shit. Shit shit shit. You were breaking his mind now.

You slipped the tip of your cock against his pretty folds, sliding it up and down between his pussy lips and wincing in pleasure. Howl lets out a relieved moan, drawn out and debauched, when he finally can feel your dick flat against his hungry cunt. His hips were trying to buck up but your arm was keeping them down. Whimpers getting more desperate and excited.

“in..in..in…put it in”, he babbled, wriggling against the ropes trying to get further friction on his swollen bud with the help of your dick. He whimpered in pain, eyes shutting close when you slapped his thigh, “again? didn’t i tell you to shut up?”.

Nodding and muttering sobbing sorrys, he pleads. His voice now a hushed purr. Blood thumping in his ears because of the drawn out denial. At the verge of losing his mind. Why were you being so mean?!

A depraved shriek escaped his lips the moment you went inside him. In one single thrust. No warning, no gentleness and no care. Just a straight up merciless enter. His tight pussy lips struggling to ease around your thick shaft, the burn of his ripping cunt tipping over the bucket of arousal in his stomach. And so he came.

Hips jerking up and his hot insides clenching down on your cock so hard, you thought it would break. Choked moans from his throat while his entire body twitched, his head tilting back. A spray of water covered your abs, your eyes widening. He had squirted the moment you pushed inside him.

“holy fuck…”, you panted looking down at the mess. This was so hot. Shivers running up your body. Your fingers digging into his supple marked up thighs. But you were far from done.

Lifting his legs on your shoulders, you began hammering your dick inside his sopping warm cunt. You smelled your favourite scent on his ankles. Lavender. Did he put perfume on his ankles?

Did he know you would fuck him like this?

You grinned and flicked his nub with your fingers, intensifying the stimulation. A look of pornographic bliss on his face. His cute little cunt swallowed your dick all up from the tip to base like some cheap whore. There were sounds of filthy squelching paired with hips smacking against each other, hard and rough.

Howl shook his head, legs kicking up in the air but your gripping hold kept them in place. Staining red marks on the blank canvas of his beautiful lower limbs.

The bed creaked with each merciless pump inside, not slowing down for a second. Not even letting him adjust around your hard, throbbing length. Just splitting him open brutally, working him wide and full. His hands scratched at the headboard, trying to support himself.

Howl was brainless at this point. Just a flesh-light for you to pound in. Eyes watering and rolling back so hard, he could see nothing but a dark looming vision. Hiccuping moans accompanied with loud sobs to ‘slow down’, he was gonna cum again.

“so big, bigggg~”, his cunt was burning, you were stretching him out so much, it was ungodly. Sinful. Absolutely lewd. Your dick was forcing his walls to shape around you. It felt so full. Forcing him to fit you like a glove, because you belong in there. Its your own. “Take. It. All”, your demands bending his soul over.

Howl is for you to own. He belongs to you. His filthy tender hole, his round ass, his adorable perky nipples, his plush and soft lips, they all belong to you. And you belong to him.

He could feel you all in him, marking your claim. The outline of your dick making its bold show every time you pounded inside and it took every ounce of your moral will to press your weight down on it because if you did, you knew howl would come almost immediately.

Rutting into him like someone in heat, driven by a maniac lust, ignoring his screams. “oughhh g-god shhtop”, he slurred, choking on his saliva. He was hardly able to make out his own voice. Body all hot, like someone had pushed him into a vault of fire with you.

But everything was so damn addictive. Every thrust, every vein rubbing along his walls, every twitch of your tip and your rough palms rubbing his clit. It was so deliriously perfect that it made howl break out into a crazed smile.

Thats it, fuck me like am your cocksleeve. Your cumdump. Fill me, mark me up, break every part of me. I am yours, you are mine.

He was loving that hint of pain in his loins. It was mixed with pleasure. And a lot of love hidden beneath lust. It was a recipe of a drug only you two knew of.

“oh fuck…am close”, you moaned, leaning forward to place your lips on howl’s. Bending his knees till they were right beside his head. You lapped up his drool, pushing your tongue in him while howl continued to whine inside your mouth. He adores you so much.

Your tip was kissing his cervix, in so deep its like you were all up in his head. Plaguing his mind. You were definitely fucking a baby into his womb at this rate. Which, surprisingly, made howl jittery.

“ouhh ha-harder!!”, his wails riled you up. The coil in his stomach tightened again as his release felt near. And you understood from the way his voice increased in decibel. Girlish, high pitched moans spilling from his mouth. So obscene.

You swing an arm under his back and he moved into you, his back arching. Your gut felt heavy and close, clenching inside. “B-Breed me~”, he begged and that’s all it took.

You spilled into him. Emptying every inch of your cum deep inside him, till his tummy was swelling up and he could feel it all moving inside. Some of it trickled down, leaking out, and pooling in the already wet patch of the bed.

A strangled moan left his mouth the moment you came undone and his legs jerked on your shoulders. Toes curling because of the shattering sensation. His milky white body trembling in your arms, soft to touch but ruined from the inside. Falling apart in front of you. But that was fine. You would always be there to catch him.

Your head felt dizzy. A known indicator that you came alot. It happens rarely but it wasn’t something too weird.

Within a few seconds you could feel his breaths relax, returning to the easy and lazy routine he always has. Your dick was still sheathed inside him because you knew all your sticky cum would gush out of his gaping hole and then you would have to rush him to the bathroom. As all good lovers should.

But this moment felt too intimate. You wanted it to last for a bit longer. Eyes gazing at his swollen bruised lips and then running back to his eyes. A bit red and still tearful. But they were sparkling. His blue eyes were whispering praises to you.

You muttered a spell and his hands came untied. Landing on your shoulders.

Sweeping a strand of hair behind his ears, you rub his cheek. “Am sorry, i went too rough”, you pout, a feeling of remorse building up in you before you hear his chuckles. Raspy but still adorable.

“I can barely talk right now but-”, he sighed, “-I need to tell you that I loved it”.

“I love you darling”, he pressed a kiss on your lips, bringing his forehead down on yours. “My lovely darling”, mumbling with affection, he pulled you into a warm embrace.

“I love you sweetheart”, you smiled against his lips before taking him in a deep kiss again.

#.rizzler #howl #howl pendragon #howl pendragon smut #howl jenkins pendragon #sub howl #howl smut #afab howl #dom reader #dom top reader #top reader #howls moving castle #howl’s moving castle #howl x reader

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alastorslilghost · 3 months

Text

MY DOTING HUSBAND.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝚎𝚡 𝚆𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

๑ | sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs : ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟᴀsᴛᴏʀ's ғᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ᴡɪғᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪs sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ʜᴀʙɪᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ɴɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛɪᴇs, sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ.

๑ | ᴛᴡ : ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ʟᴏᴛs ᴏғ sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴ, ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴇʀʀᴏʀs, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ɢᴏʀᴇ.

๑ | ᴀᴜ : ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʀʏɴᴀ ғɪɴᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴀsᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴɢsᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ғɪɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ, sᴏ ᴡʜʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs? ʜᴇʜᴇʜᴇʜᴇʜ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ! ~

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

You're a happily married woman with a doting, caring, faithful husband. Your man was everything you could ask for, you both shared a small but comfortable house. Life was full of ecstasy, just you and your loving husband..what could you ask for more? Life was perfect and what more could ever ruin this perfect life?nothing can ruin this life..right?

It was suppose to be another same night, where you cook dinner for you and your husband while you wait for him to come home. That is until, you heard a loud thud behind the basements door. Your husband warned you few times to never as in never in all circumstances go in behind those doors. You never knew what was in there or whatever the thing is going on there to make your loving husband enough to be so cautious of you going in there. Your husband was a honest man, but sometimes his weird obsession of keeping you away from the basement made you doubt him.

But since you're a good obedient little wife of his, you decided to ignore the strange sounds thinking that I was just another pesky rats causing ruckus.

But that is until you heard a muffled scream, you froze.

Does rats suppose to sound like a man crying? Wailing?

You gulped, you took a deep breath as you tried to ignore the sounds coming from your basement. But it was getting hard not too when the thrashing started to get.. Violent.

Fuck it. You abruptly stand up from the kitchen seat as you grabbed the knife just beside the cutting board as you slowly approached the basement door, clutching the knife to your chest as you held out your hand to grab the doorknow with a shaking hand and pounding heart.

Surely it's not what you think it's in there right? Alastor was not that kind of man.. Right?

Doubts about your husband increase as you shook your head and opened the basement door, rotten flesh and the metallic scent immediately greeted your nostrils. The scent was to much to handle that you had to step back and closed the door for a moment to catch your breath.

Just what was in there? Finally feeling ready enough to handle the scent, you opened the door once again before taking slow steps down the stairs. There nothing could be seen there apart from darkness and the scent of rotting flesh gets stronger and the sound of muffled crying and chains rattling got louder as you finally made it down.

You ran your hands to the wall finding the familiar switch for the light, once finding it, you took a deep breath mentally preparing yourself for the sight you're about to see as you switch the light on.

As the yellow-ish light spread around the room, you felt like the air knocked out of your lungs as you choked out a cry, feeling your knees giving up on you.

You stumbled on your steps as you dropped the knife, your hands flying to your mouth as you dropped to the floor, staring wide eye at the sight in front of you.

You muffled out a cry as the dying man eyes landed on you, he was tied into the wall with his hand on the air. The man tried running to you as he cried. Your eyes wandered more around the basement to see not one one, but three bodies stacked around the corner with intestines inside the jars. You tried to swallow down your vomit as you scurried towards the man.

" dear Lord.. " you gasped as you removed the gag from his mouth as the man coughs. He was all bloodied, missing an eye and a chopped leg, you wonder how is this man still alive with how much blood he lost.. And how long has he been here.

" i-.. Are you-.. " you weren't sure what to ask first, your far too shakened about this relevation.

The man raises its head as it cried.

" please please - PLEASE! get me out of here! I beg of you! " he cried, turmoil swirls to your stomach as your breath becomes ragged from panick-

" i- dont- I don't know how- where's the key?! " you asked as you frankly started searching around him, tears were already spilling to your beautiful E/C eyes.

" that- sick man s-stuck it in.. I-in that heart on the table! " the man coughed.

"Please I beg of you! H-hurry! "

You felt your soul left your body at the mention of where the key was, you slowly looked behind you to see the bloodied heart of a human on the.. Plate.. What.

Now that the sight finally downing into you, there were plates and utensils on the table and a half eaten liver too. Your heart aches as more realization hits you. Your husband was not only a murderer.. But also a cannibal.

You shook your head as you hurried your way to the heart shaking the feeling of disgust and vomit as your searched for the key inside. Why would he even stuck the key here?.. Perhaps.. Doe he know that you would disobey him soon? Whatever, you and the man need to get out of this place soon. You can't even bring yourself to call this home anymore.

Once you finally found the key, you wasted no more time snatching it in and ran back to the man, your now bloodied hand was shaking as you tried to unlock his cuffs.

" i-its ok now.. I got you.. O-once we get out for here i-ill call the cops. " you panted as you finally unlocked the last cuffs. The man fell on the floor as he cried "thank you's to you"

" there's no more time for this we have to- " a hand landed on your shoulder. You and the man froze in fear.

You stared at the man in front of you, seeing him gone quiet with a fearful look on his face tells you everything.

" darling.. " your breath caught on your throat as you felt your husband breath on your neck. The grip he hand on your shoulder tightened making you whimper.

" I thought I made myself clear about this. " you gasped as you felt something pierced behind you.

You coughed as you dropped on your knees as you held your side to see blood.. Your blood.

Your breath was shaky as you slowly turned to the man you shared your vows with, shared your bed with, shared your everything with, gave your love and everything.

More tears trailed on your eyes as he kneeled down to you cupping your cheeks, you leaned away from him as you scurried away as you whimpered. But he grabbed your jaw as his chocolate brown eyes.. Oh those eyes you once loved getting lost at.

" you should have listed to me, doe. " his eyes softened as you cried.

" it wouldn't have to be this way if you just stayed as a obedient little wife you are. "

He then cupped your cheek with his thumb wipped the tears off of your eyes smearing your blood on you.

You gasped for air as you started to see black dots in your vision as you clutched your side before your vision finally darkened , your husband sinister smile was the last thing you saw as you closed your eyes.

" I'll see you soon, my little doe. " and that was the last thing you heard as your body went numb.

Alastor craddled your now lifeless body as a year escaped his eyes, his victim was already crawling away but he could care less about that now. For now, he have to be by his beautiful wife like a doting husband he is.

Alastor kiss your cold forehead and went to your lips and gave it a one last kiss.

" I promise I'll come for you, my darling doe.. I ought to find you in every part of the afterlife.. I would tear down the heaven and hell just to find you again, just wait for me, mon chérie. "

Such a doting husband he is indeed.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #angst #hazbin hotel angst #mentions of death #gore writing #hazbin hotel #ˠ . ° . 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢! 𖤐

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tealgoat · 3 months

Text

Writing from @wonder-of-the-stars

<“Loop?…”>

“Don’t… let me leave this room. Please.”

<Ah.>

<It’s like that.>

<They're reaching out to you in a way that won’t spark a discussion they won’t have with you. For once, since—>

<…>

<Don't think about that right now. They need you. You… you can be patient. And this is enough for you, for now.>

<!!!>

<It's abrupt, but Loop twists their body to grab you, tugging themself over and shoving their face into you. You feel it, before you hear it.>

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry I’m miserable and awful and I can’t- can’t- I can’t— it should be okay and it’s not okay I’m not okay I’m sorry I’m sorry”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!!!!!!!!”

<they’re incoherent about them, so you tune those ones out.>

<…>

<They've passed out.>

<…>

<Slowly, once you’re certain Loop is asleep, you reach over to the dresser side, and you grab the book you placed there a few hours ago. You bring it to your side, making sure Loop doesn’t shift too much. You keep an arm around them as you open the book.>

<…It’s best you stay up and keep your silent promise.>

#in tales of time au #in tales of time #in stars and time #isat #my art #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time fanart #isat fanart #isat odile #isat loop #odile loops au #odile timeloop au #cw implied sh

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asliceofzosan · 7 months

Text

sanji has always known he loved zoro.

subconsciously.

it's hidden in the steps he takes to maneuver around the sleeping marimo on the deck. it's written in the recipes he creates to account for the amount of nutrients he needs for his frankly ridiculous workout routine. it's embedded so deeply in the way he fights, back to back, one leg swinging in perfect synergy with zoro's blade. how he stands on his blind side more often on the field. but stands on his good side when they have a conversation.

so the words "i love you" come naturally to him. it's like he was always meant to say it to zoro. his presence was an appetizer. his words, the entreé. his actions, a delectable dessert that even his sweets-hating boyfriend craves for after a long day.

but sanji has never heard those three little words from zoro. not even once.

and sure, it's not like he goes around saying i love you to every beautiful lady he meets. he knows the gravity of such words. he knows how someone saying it can affect you in ways that can barely be comprehended by the human mind. it stirs something within ourselves that awakens the age old yearning to be cherished. to be held.

to be worth something to someone.

sanji can remember the rare times someone said i love you to him. once held in his mother's arms in a tender embrace that weakens with each passing second, it was whispered against his temple, frail fingers combing through his hair, and he cries without knowing that it would be the last time he hears those words for a very long time. once shaking in zeff's arms as the nightmares roar louder in his head than the storm that rattled the windows of the newly opened baratie, the older man choosing to be gentle with the child he willingly gave everything to in order to survive.

he's never heard it from someone who loved him like a partner. loved him like an equal. loved him in ways lovers are supposed to love each other.

maybe it's because he never had one of those until zoro. for the longest time, he survived on fairy tales and myths and legends. oral tradition passed down through generations of every family he encounters on their adventures out at sea. and though his life as a prince was nothing like the pictures painted in children's books, he always longed for a princess of his own. someone he could save from the proverbial tower guarded by a fearsome dragon.

he wanted someone to love him like a hero. their hero. someone who admires him for all the things he desperately projects for others to see him as worth keeping around.

zoro isn't a princess by any means. he's honestly so much more like the dragon. but also not. fearsome as he is fearful. immensely strong as he is soft hearted. a steady pillar as he is the first to crumble at sanji's touch.

and zoro never admired him like a hero. never cared about the best foot forward sanji took care to show others. in fact, he saw right through him from the very moment they met. it irritated sanji to no end how someone like that stupid marimo could read him like an open book. he took care to make sure the pages of his story that he deems undesirable were sealed away under lock and key. no one needed to know the plot points that brought him where he is. he needs to be the hero. he needs to be seen as the hero in his story.

but who exactly was he trying to save?

what kind of hero has no one to save?

it took several years for him to realize that the person he needed to save was himself. and zoro knew that.

of course he fucking did.

he never mollycoddled him. never softened the blow. always blunt and direct with him. it drove sanji up the wall once with how little tact he had. eventually, he actually started to appreciate how zoro never once sugarcoated anything with him. if he was upset, he'd show it. if he was happy, it would shine in his gaze clear as day.

and if he was in love?

well.

sanji can admit it took him much longer to realize that the love he felt for zoro was not only reciprocated but was so much deeper than what three little words could possibly convey.

there's a permanent space for zoro next to sanji, right in front of the sink, when dinner is over and the soapy water goes up to his elbows. the windows are always open in the crow's nest when sanji's watch comes right after zoro's, just enough for the smoke to escape but the smell to linger. the wordless nod zoro gives him when sanji is combing through marketplaces and dragged him along to be his pack mule. the strategically placed shoulder for him to jump off of when sanji needs to launch himself at an oncoming enemy.

the 2am fights that devolve into holding each other and apologizing without saying any words at all.

the way zoro carries him back to his bunk when he's fallen asleep in the galley writing recipes down. the kiss to his forehead. the hand that runs through his hair.

and here sanji thought his actions were the sweet dessert. for in the dead of night, when no one is watching, zoro's devotion is blinding. zoro's love shines like a beacon in a dark, stormy night.

the dragon perched on the roof of the tower, breathing fire for the lost prince to find his way home.

so sanji lets zoro comb through the pages of his story that he doesn't tell anyone else. he lets zoro guide his hand to flip to the blank pages, allows him to convince him that the parts of his story that mattered are the ones written by his own hand. and if the pages are soon filled with endless adventures of the prince and his swordsman, no one else will really understand it.

no one except zoro.

so yes. sanji always knew he loved zoro and that zoro loved him back just as fiercely or maybe even more.

even if he never heard those three little words.

what sanji doesn't know, is that when zoro is sure he is fast asleep, zoro whispers those words against sanji's ear. like a revenant prayer to a god. zoro doesn't believe in god.

but he believes in sanji. he always did.

#i cooked smth at the dead of night again hi everyone #one piece #roronoa zoro #zosan #roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji #niki's fics: three little words #i saw someone post about how sanji probably said i love you first and zoro never actually saying it and well... this happened #: D

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kitkathatesu · 1 month

Text

Got My Baby Cryin’

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Bo Sinclair x Fem!reader + mentions of Vincent

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓?: ✔️ @whatitshouldvebeen hope you like it pookie, sorry it took so long😗

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: NSFW❗️SMUT❗️dub/non-con, (DON’T READ THIS IF THAT IS A TRIGGER FOR YOU) ❕MDNI❕Use of degradation & praise, (mostly degradation sorry) mentions of blood & violence, pet names, canon!Bo, Stockholm Syndrome type situation, sub!reader, possesive!Bo, Dacryphilia, fingering (f receiving), p in v, spit play, hatefucking

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Vincent decides to use you as his “muse” for a new wax figure in the Museum, and though it may be a sweet gesture to you Bo doesn’t think so. Not at all, and it’s obviously your fault. So who better to punish than you?

☽♢☾

You’re in the kitchen cleaning up after a night of blood pools and broken glass. One of the tourists who’d decided Ambrose was a cozy spot to fill his tank found out rather fast that it comes at a cost. His life being the payment.

Vincent’s sitting across the room from you at the table, his one blue eye seemingly studying your movements with a slight tilt of his head. His fingers toying one of his many sculpting tools between them, gaze burning into you. The silence deafening while you sit there on your knees, crimson spattered rag in hand scrubbing the creaky floorboards.

“You wanna take a picture Vince?” You snicker. Glancing up to catch his reaction but he’s stood upright now just inches away from your kneeling figure. “Goddamn!” You gasp, your hand pressed tightly to your chest.

“Didn’t even give me a chance to breathe! You’re seriously the fastest fucker I believe I’ve ever met.” You squeak playfully, Vincent’s grunt of approval making you giggle.

You’ve grown quite close to all three Brother’s, Lester a little less than Vincent but Bo more than either of them. And he makes sure the others know just how 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 you are. Your desperate cries for benevolence etched into the walls from the night he caught you lingering around longer than you should’ve. The scars he left then now littering your body and mind for as long as you can remember.

Your eyes fixated back to the task at hand. Fingers beginning to ache at how hard you’ve peeled the desaturated blood off the floor, you can’t help but wonder how many more will seep away to nothing more than a stain in the rotting wood beneath you. You shake your head, the thought rattling around for a moment but dissipating shortly after.

“Hey Vince, care to grab me another rag? This one’s about to start ripping at the seams-“

You practically choke on your words at the sight of Vince now knelt down in front of you, his smooth hand caressing the flush that’s crept onto your cheek. His thumb gently tracing the lines that are naturally imprinted into your skin as you sit there frozen.

Dumbfounded, you reach up and place your hand atop his. Searching for an answer internally and externally, 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜? Hopefully nowhere close to what you suspect considering his hobbies.

“Uh, Vince?” You ask softly, a lump formed so tight in your throat that you feel like you’re suffocating. He just stares back at you like every word you’ve spoke has fell upon deaf ears.

He signs “You’re lovely. Would take forever to sculpt such a pretty thing.” His demeanor flashing something more than just curiosity causing your jaw to tighten.

“Could use some practice if you’d care to pose for me. Be the perfect muse.”

He continued on, only increasing the gnawing anxiety in your gut. Among the flustered butterflies smacking against your rib cage. You knew Bo would be pissed if he ever caught wind of this, hearing or let alone walking in and seeing it for himself.

“Vince..” You pause. Your eyes flickering to the right, then the left. 𝙊𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩.

Bo’s face is contorted with anger as his slanted figure stands positioned against the doorframe pulling you back to reality. You hurriedly push yourself off the floor, Vince scurrying backwards as Bo chuckles to himself. His presence unabated as it fills the room.

“Well, what’do we have here?” He mocks. Glaring at Vince first, then turning his half lidded eyes to meet yours, shooting daggers right through your chest.

Your heart pounds. His pupils are swallowing his irises whole. Used to he could disguise that look pretty well, but you’ve grown all to accustomed to the predator that’s always preying on you. The man who’s marked you in more ways than one that’ll last a lifetime.

“Bo, I can explain-“ You stammer. Voice barely amounting to a whisper but it’s silenced completely as Bo cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bo barks, his voice gruff and threatening as he points a finger to you, daring a word to fall from your lips as he lunges at Vincent. Making him stumble back against the wall, his head hitting first as Bo’s hands clutch his shoulders to stand him still.

“You wanna explain yer’self?” Bo grumbled. “Or do I gotta beat it outta you first?” His fingers grip the fabric of his Brothers sweater, pulling him forward then ramming him back into the wall with a loud thud.

A muffled wince of pain strains behind Vincent’s mask, he raises his hands in reticence. Trying to deescalate the situation.

“Didn’t mean nothing by it. Only using her as means to create better, more realistic figures.” He signs. His one eye searching Bo’s for some sort of understanding, but all he gets is a sneer. Bo’s lip curling up into a cocky smirk as he drops Vincent’s shoulders.

“That so?” He snorts. “We both know that’s a lie. You’d be on’er like flies on shit if I’d let cha’ ya fuckin’ pest. Now git. I said git!”

Vincent storms out of the room and Bo runs a grease covered hand through his hair, a sadistic cackle bouncing off the walls as he turns around to find you cowered in the corner. Your eyes wide with fear as he saunters over.

“Awh, sweetheart. What’sa matter?” He taunts. Bending down in front of you, his cologne and the smell of whiskey flooding your senses. You try to find the words to say but they’re stuck. You’re stuck, you can barely think straight.

“I asked ya a fuckin’ question.” He snarls. His calloused hand claws at your jaw, his fingers digging into the fat of your cheeks roughly pinching your lips into a pout.

“I’m sorry- I just, I can’t..” You trail off, voice shaky as Bo’s hot breath fans over your face. His hand pulling you closer to him by the grip on your cheeks, a choked back whimper crackling in your throat.

“Can’t what?” He asked softly. His tone condescending but dripping with that honeysuckle Southern drawl that makes you weak in the knees.

Bo’s sharp tongue darts out to wet his lips and your eyes follow its movement. Nothing ever goes unnoticed when it comes to you like a cat with a mouse, he’ll let you think it’s safe to stray away and as soon as you do he’ll pounce and sink his teeth in without warning.

He taps your lower jaw with his fingertips. Your eyes squeezing shut as he leans in, his nose gently brushing against yours.

“Cat got your tongue? Or you jus’ too busy thinkin’ bout Vince ta’ spit out an answer.” He tsks. Tongue clicking against his teeth as he jerks you upwards. His hand now snaked around your neck. Your feet slightly coming up off of floor. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you girl. Don’t get all shy now.”

You cough against the rigidity of his fingers delving into the sides of your throat, your eyes popping open and heartbeat thrumming in your ears, his lips now hovering above yours. You clasp your hand around his wrist as he peers down at your unnerved expression. A smug grin plastered on his pretty face.

“Bo- Fuck, please just stop.” You pant, each breath you take shorter and shallower than the next. A low sigh pulling from your lungs as he closes his hand tighter around windpipe. You swear you could hear it crunching.

“Don’t think I will darlin.’ As a matter’a fact, think I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his, staring up at him through heavy lashes as your peripherals cloud with hazy darkness. A subtle pulsing between your legs causing you to shift, embarrassment bubbling up and spilling over as your body reacts to him, knowing it’ll only betray you further if you fight.

“You’ve been misbehavin’ a lot these past couple days sugar.” He purrs against the side of your face. His free hand coming up to grapple the dip in your waist causing your thighs to squeeze together a little too fast. Bo chuckles through gritted teeth.

“Think it’s time ta’ remind ya’ what happens when I let ya’ off yer leash. Since you’ve bitten off a bit more than you can chew.”

“I’ve not done anything, was just trying to clean. Honest.” You bleat. Tears trickling down your face. The thought of what he’s planning on doing to you raiding your already tattered mind. “Please- Don’t hurt me.”

Your lower lip quivers as his eyes glaze over you, your cheeks flushed a deep red and chest heaving. Awaiting your punishment as he stands there menacingly.

You can’t help but gawk at him. He’s got such pretty eyes, and his hands are so experienced yet 𝙨𝙤 deadly. Who could 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙮 resist? You’re acclimated to this place, this man. You have nothing left to lose and nothing more to gain.

“S’a shame ya’ gotta be so desperate when I’m not around. Can’t leave ya’ alone for a second without you missin’ having one in ya.” He slurs, his jaw tightening as he pushes his lips against the shell of your ear. Tongue tracing it lightly causing your body to shudder.

“My Brother can’t fuck you as good as I can”, He husked. “And I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch him try. ‘Specially when yer’ eager to please.” That snarky smile forming against your skin. “Nothing but a fuckin’ whore.”

Your heart is hammering. Legs wobbly, you’re lightheaded and on the brink of passing out as his fingers dance against your pulse points. But a piercing shot of air fills your lungs suddenly causing you to sputter and choke as he releases you. Your feet plant flat on the ground, hand frantically lacing itself around the handprint that now sits like a necklace on your throat. His hands falling at his sides, tucking into his pockets with a huff.

“I don’t think of Vince that way!” You yell at him, your voice broken and dry in your throat. Bo’s brooding facial features making your skin crawl as he rakes over your unsteady figure. “Yeah?” He belts out. His head dropping down and back up with a sadistic cackle. “Bet yer’ soakin’ wet right now.”

Your stomach drops and your legs nearly give out. You 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 if he was to reach his hand between your legs and touch you right now his fingers would be drenched.

Bo inhales deeply through his nose. Letting out a long, breathless, sigh. “I can smell you. Ye’ ain’t hidin’ nothin’ from me.” He uttered. A growl rumbling in his chest as one of his hands fists your hair gripping it hard between his fingers. The weight of his body now flush against yours.

“Every. Fuckin’. INCH of your body is mine.” Bo snarled. His breathing loud and rugged, fuming with whiskey and desire. His grip on your hair stiff as a board, your scalp stinging from the force of him holding your head back.

“Bo- Bo, I’m sorry please? I’m yours, only yours.” You plead. Tears sliding off of your cheeks. The salty streams glistening down your neck and chest, staining your sternum. What a mess you are already. 𝙋𝙤𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

Bo’s jaw cocks open like a boa constrictor and his tongue drags a long hot stripe up your jugular, catching your fear on his tongue. A groan seeping out of his mouth like blood from an open wound. Your teary eyes and battered body only making his already hardened cock strain against his zipper.

“That tight lil cunt between yer’ legs belongs ta’ me too. Ain’t that right honey?” He cooed. “So pretty when you cry’fer me like that.”

𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠. He’s got you. He has you right where he wants you, where he always has you. Right on the edge of insanity and serendipity. You break pathetically at the slip of his knee between your legs, his muscular thigh pushing up into your core. The friction of his jeans alone makes you whine but it’s effortlessly snuffed out as Bo’s lips crash against your own.

Your head is fuzzy and your limbs are numb like venoms slithered beneath your skin through his saliva. Disintegrating you from the inside out as your lips move on their own accord.

“Yes Daddy.”

“You’re disgusting ain’tcha?” His eyes blown wide with lust and his hands full of rage he yanks you by your hair that’s tucked into his fist with one swift motion turning you around.

Your back arches and your face slams against the wall, the taste of copper filling your mouth. Bittersweet as Bo’s free hand slides up the back of your thigh, your ass pushing back against it as his fingers hook into the fabric of your shorts pulling them to the side. Your body shifting at the chills that rip their way up your spine. 𝙍𝙪𝙣 ��𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙪𝙣, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙧.

“Look at that.” Bo panted, watching the arousal that’s bubbled and seeped out from your core spread and string to the outside of your lips with each buck of your hips.

“Fuckin’ pathetic ain’t it? Gettin’ all hot’n bothered by someone who kills for a livin’?” He chided, his middle finger swiping through your folds in a downwards motion grazing your clit. “Y’should be ashamed of yourself girl.”

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚. You should be fighting this, fighting him. Running as far as your tired body could carry you, but no. Instead a moan rolls off of your blood slathed tongue earning the tip of Bo’s ring finger circling the edges of your entrance. “Please?”

“Please what?” Bo asked well aware of the answer. His one digit quickly turning into two as he pushed them inside you down to the second knuckle. Angling them upwards, rubbing against that spongy spot that has you speaking his name like a prayer worthy of an altar.

You squeaked in response. Hips plummeting backwards to plunge them as deep as they’ll go, your walls fluttering around them. 𝙍𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙛, 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙛, 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙛.

“Ah ah!” He scolds. “Who the fuck told ya’ ta’move huh?” You pout as your desperate attempt to give yourself what you didn’t ask for comes to a halt. Bo’s left hand vigorously rips itself from your scalp, scraping his jagged nails down your spine as he traces the vertebrae, a bruising grip now glueing you in place.

“Dirty fuckin’ slut”, he groans. “Fuckin’ yer’self with my fingers like a bitch in heat.” You revel in the disgusting sounds of your juices splashing onto his wrist as his fingers twist inside you. His voice cracking you open and leaving you helpless. The pleasure that’s jolting through you lights you on fire, your legs trembling and your stomach tightening. Unable to fight the biting urge to be filled to the brim with him.

“Oh my God- I want your cock. Need it.” You babble, almost incoherently as your moans turn into sobs. Bo hums low in his throat adding a third finger and you clench hard. The agonizingly slow stretch of your walls making you mewl. “That’s right sweet girl. Let me hear ya’ beg proper.” He licked his lips and spit a wad of saliva onto your cunt. Pulling his fingers out to smack through your folds harshly, eliciting a string of curses to fall from your swollen lips.

Your legs buckle as your knees go to give out but Bo catches you by your hips. Your head starts to spin as the sound of his zipper sparks every nerve, every fiber of your being. You tilt your head back to catch a glimpse of him, his eyes lock onto yours and his eyebrows knit together. “Fuck ya’ lookin’ at me for?”

Your jaw quivers with adrenaline as your head is slammed into the wall once more. Fingers digging into the supple flesh of your love handle, his cock now pressed firmly against your pussy from underneath. The tip grinding against your clit with ease as he collects your juices by rocking his hips back and forth slowly.

“I know why”, he rasped. “Cause yer’ a cock hungry whore. Ain’t that right sugar?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Whad’ya want?”

“Want- I want..” You stutter and before you can even think a loud, pornographic, moan echoes out of your lungs as he pushes himself inside you with one deep thrust. Your walls clenching as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, the pain and pleasure sending you into a frenzy. “Oh- Oh my fucking GOD! Bo, Bo, please!”

You could cum right here but you know better. You know the fullness you feel right now will cease and the emptiness that gnaws at the back of your skull will replace it instead.

“Ah fuck, that’s right honey. I’ll be yer’ God.” 𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙢𝙮. “Pussies s’fuckin’ tight baby.” Bo groans and your head starts to pound. His fingernails biting at the skin on your hipbone as he picks up a relentless pace, your ass bouncing off of his hips deliciously with each thrust. Face repeatedly scraping against the withering wood pricking the rosy parts of your cheeks leaving them hot and raw.

He reaches his hand to your mouth and you open. Tongue darting out to wrap around his fingers but he jolts his hips upwards and you cry out. His middle finger hooking into the side of your jaw, stretching your mouth out as he fucks you stupid. “Fuck, fuck-“ Your eyes flutter shut as fresh tears fall and he wipes one off with his thumb. The taste of his skin setting your twisted desire for him into overdrive and your stomach churns as the familiar coil starts to tighten and thrash through you.

“No use in cryin’ bitch”, he growled. His balls slapping against your clit and his head now resting in the crook of your neck from behind, his canines scraping your pulse that vibrates against his lips. “Wasn’t sad when Vince was on his knees drooling all over ya’, or when he touched you. Ya’ fuckin’ liked it.”

Your pussy throbs and your hands grab at the wall in front of you helplessly. Nails chipping and teeth baring as he pounds into you. You’re not going to last much longer. How could you?

“No. No, no-“ You sob and he rips his fingers from your lips roughly, slathering your own saliva all over your face. Clasping his big hand over your mouth and nose, your eyes roll back and your cunt coats his cock in spurts as he slams his hips into you. 𝙄𝙣, 𝙤𝙪𝙩. 𝙄𝙣, 𝙤𝙪𝙩. Hard and deep strokes till your body goes limp and your moans turn to mush in your brain.

“Shut yer’ fuckin’ mouth cunt. Open up wide for me. 𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙝 just like that.”

Bo almost whines as his thrusts become sloppy and your juices drip down his thighs. His own orgasm picking him to pieces as you suck him in so eagerly. Regardless if you want it, he knows you can’t deny him. You 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 deny him. You’re his and 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 his and he’ll make sure you never forget it. If he has to shatter every sliver of hope that you cling too by God he will. And you’ll beg him for more each time.

“S’good for me when ya’ wanna be baby,” he cooed. Making your heart sink and your body ache to be anywhere but here in this moment though you yearn for it when he’s not looking. Fucking stupid fuck.

He kicks your legs open farther with the toes of his boot thudding against your ankle. Almost knocking you off balance as he jerks you back into him, you can feel his cock pulsating as he finally paints your walls white with his cum. Your body basically lifeless as he ruts inside you, mumbling curses and sweet nothings into your ear. And no matter how much you plead with yourself to remember who he is, the invisible noose he has tied around your neck reminds you who you belong too. Who you’ll 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 belong to. You’re swallowed whole.

Bo pulls out and immediately tucks himself back into his boxers as you stand there with his spend dripping out of you and onto the floor, inner thighs slick with a disgusting mixture of your cum and his. “Get cleaned up”, he grumbled. Throwing a random dirt tinged rag onto the floor in front of you.

“Want yer ass back in the kitchen in 5 or I might have ta’ get Vince back in here. Show him how a real man takes care of what’s his.”

With a wink and a satisfied grin Bo disappears into another part of the house. Leaving you in the same way he found you. Weak at the knees and starving for something to heal the wounds you mindlessly reopen every time he’s around.

#slasher fandom #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #slasher x you #house of wax 2005 #slasher fucker #vincent sinclair #going feral #brain rot #slasher smut

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withabroken-heart · 2 months

Text

INTERROGATION

dazai x reader

beast! dazai

afab! reader

smut, minors DNI (ageless blogs will be blocked)

had a dream about this and had to write it. dazai gets you to talk the best way he knows how to

bondage, candle-play, overstimulation

you had lost track of how long you had been on that bed.

he cuffed your hands above your head, attached to the bed frame. he left them just loose enough for you to squirm and struggle, but tight enough to draw the line at just that. the only thing he had bothered to cover were your eyes; the rest he had stripped bare. every touch felt like fire against your skin. your senses were heightened and every part of you was shaking. like a puppet on strings, he had left you helpless.

dazai reached out and traced a finger along your exposed skin, down your chest and dangerously close to the in-between on your thighs. he relished in the tremble that ran through your body, letting out a chuckle at your reactions. his breath slowly traced down your neck lower, lower, and lower. he made sure his lips abstained from contact- for now.

he continued to tease and touch you, enjoying your reactions. but even as he took pleasure in the moment, he never lost sight of what he needed from you.

"come on, angel, give me something. anything. i promise, i'll make it worth your while." he whispered into your ear, his tongue making the slightest contact with your neck. your head jerked back at the feeling, dazai ghosting his mouth over your neck and completing it with a heavy lick.

"fuck you." you grit your teeth. you were going to play this game. dazai could get anyone to talk, and you loved being the first to achieve things.

he chuckled. "stubborn little thing, aren't you?" he suddenly removed his contact, and you let out a breath of relief. luckily, your blindfold hid the ever-increasing hunger in his eyes. "i was almost hoping you’d hold out. lets see how long you can last when i do this…”

you suddenly feel a hot, liquid burn on your breasts. he must've lit a candle, letting it drip down you at an agonizingly slow pace. dazai's eyes observed with satisfaction as you gasped at the burning sensation. the flickering flame of the candle illuminated the room, casting dancing shadows that added to the intensity of the situation. but you were unaware, and could only focus on the mental games he played with you.

"poor thing, if only you had just talked….. this would all be over so soon." dazai teased you as you bit your lip. he continued to pour the hot wax down your body, moving down from your chest and to your thighs. he strategically avoided your most sensitive areas, for now. "i only save the best for last, angel."

dazai revelled in the power he had over you, watching the mix of pleasure and agony on your face. each droplet served as a testament to your willpower. he wanted to be impressed, but he knew he had more in for you.

after what felt like forever, you heard a clunk! on the table as he set down the candle. you gasped for air, the burning feeling lingering even after he finished. “i'm impressed, but we're just getting started."

“i-i’m not telling you shit.” you gasped.

"then don't." he slipped his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck. "i wanted to play with you more anyway.”

he moved his fingers in and out of your mouth, playing with your tongue and basking in the desperate noises you made. finally, he abruptly pulled out and left you to gasp. without warning, he pressed the two fingers to your clit. you cried out, feeling as he circled your folds before slowly spreading you out. he watched as your fluids ran down your pussy, admiring the sight as your wrists rattled furiously against the headboard.

slowly and deliberately, he pushed one finger inside of you. you screamed.

"how sensitive you are angel... i wonder what else i can do to you..”

he pushed two more fingers inside you, admiring how you dripped around him. your walls clung to his fingers as he slowly moved in and out of you. you felt everything, every inch of him as he fingered you at a torturous pace.

"its almost like you're enjoying this.. come on, tell me what i need to know angel.”

he grabs a chunk of your hair and yanks it, forcing your head to tilt. his tongue meets the skin of your neck once more as the pace of his fingers begins to increase. your body is on fire, your pussy clenches around his fingers as he drags his tongue down to your collarbone. his mouth finally reaches your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth. he sucks the sensitive bud, rolling it between his teeth before moving to the other side of your chest and repeating.

dazai moves in a messy pattern, licking and biting down all over your breasts as his other hand works diligently on your clit. your reaching your limit, but he isn't even close to being done. your wrists rattle against the cuffs as your legs shake like an earthquake had occurred.

"my my angel... are you ready to speak for me?"

he grabs your chin and forces you to face upwards. his thumb drags your lower lip down, daring you to talk for him. you want to spill your guts, to tell him everything. but right now your mind is blank, only focusing on the sweet nectar that dripped down your thighs. your speechless.

all is still for a moment.

that is, until you feel his the tip of his cock tease your folds.

you want to scream but he slaps his hand over your mouth, subduing your moans.

dazai drags the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, daring to push himself inside. you hands clutch the cuffs as you moan against his hand.

"awh, my poor little slut wants to talk now?" he leans in, whispering into your ear.

"too fucking late."

you feel him slowly, agonizingly slowly push his cock inside of you. you scream a moan against his hand as he begins to fuck into your pussy. he pounds into you with no mercy, the sound of slapping and your gagged moans fill the room.

your mind is completely blank. the feeling of his cock pulling out all the way before slamming right back into you is all you can comprehend. dazai fucks you with a savage hunger, gripping your hips as drives his cock inside of you ruthlessly. he lets his hand off from your mouth, allowing you to scream and moan to your heart’s content.

"such a good fucking slut you are.. taking my cock for me so well. beg more. beg for more." he commands.

"f-fuck, fuck. please. please, please." you cry out, forgetting how to speak entirely.

dazai grips the blindfold and pulls it off from you, allowing him to make eye contact with you for the first time.

he looks down at your body. covered in wax, breasts bouncing, wrists tied and your pussy full of him.

"lets interrogate you further, shall we?"

#bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai x you #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #beast dazai #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd fanart #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs manga #bsd atsushi #bsd #bsd roleplay #bungo stray dogs fanart

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dark-fics-4-you · 10 months

Text

No Way Out ch. 2

Dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon, smut, abusive relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, drugs, choking

Things escalate in your relationship with Rafe to a boiling point

Blinding rage was the only thing that Rafe could focus on in the small jail cell.

He paced around the cramped space like a caged animal, ready to pounce on anything that walked by the door.

The past day was all too fresh in his mind, replaying like a loop that only fed into his need to get out.

“I’m just worried about how much blow you’ve been doing, Rafe! It’s not good for you.. It just makes you so much more-”

“So much more what?” He snapped back at you and you bit your tongue.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“So much more angry,” you timidly replied. “You aren’t yourself when you’re using, baby.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, shaking his head with a scoff. “You don’t know what it’s like, Y/N! You don’t get how hard I have to work just for my dad to see what I am capable of. If you had any idea-”

“Oh, if I had any idea how hard it to have a rich dad?” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm from cutting through your voice.

“Watch it,” Rafe growled, a dangerous tone in his voice. You didn’t notice how close he had gotten to you.

“I just don’t think your daddy issues give you an excuse to be doing coke all the fucking ti-” before you could even perceive his movement, you felt a sharp sting blossom across your cheek and you vaguely registered that he had slapped you. Your head whipped to the side, tears springing up immediately.

Completely taken by surprise, you had no time to react before he shoved you to the ground. You fell hard backwards, hitting your elbows and bottom on the floor beneath you. You cried out in pain, cowering away from your boyfriend as he leered above you.

“Talk to me like that one more time and see what fucking happens,” he seethed. He lurched forward and grabbed your wrists with both hands, clenching hard and you let out a sob.

“You should consider yourself lucky!” sneered the blond. “I pay for everything you have! You would be out walking the streets without me.”

His breathing was heavy, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. You shrieked when he yanked you to your feet by your throat, shaking you hard.

Your arms flailed out at his hands, clawing at them and trying to pull him off but it was no use. You gasped for breath, crying out as his fingers dug into your throat.

“P-please-!” Precious air that was running out fueled your pleading. Rafe’s eye twitched, lip curling before he pushed you back to the ground.

Gulping for breath between sobs, you glanced up at the man towering above you in fear. His hand was clenched in a fist, eyebrows furrowed as he shook with rage.

You were terrified by how hard he had choked you, the utter lack of regret in his eyes.

In the early days, fights like these were rare, and on the off occasion that he had laid a hand on you, it was never as intense, and the apology that followed was always 100x longer than the brief fight. Nowadays, you rarely even got an apology.

With a scowl, he examined his arms where you had scratched him and his darkened eyes met yours.

You didn’t fully know why you did what you did next. Or how it unfolded.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe you were out of options, just so afraid that you did what any trapped animal would do.

You ran.

You pushed yourself off the floor in an instant, rushing out of the living room to the bathroom.

Rafe was bigger than you, stronger than you. Faster.

It was dumb luck that his reaction time was just a moment too slow.

You slammed the bathroom door, locking it behind you as fast as you could. Your heart thundered in your chest, thumping so hard you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

The door behind you rattled as Rafe punched and kicked at it.

“Open the fucking door, Y/N!!” His fists pounded against the wood and you cowered as far from the door as you could.

Your mind was racing and only then you remembered the cell phone in your back pocket.

With shaky hands, you unlocked it, clicking the phone icon before dialing emergency services.

“Let me in! Open the fucking door bitch!!” He bellowed again. You winced every time the door shook, terrified he was going to knock it off it’s hinges. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Quietly, you begged with the operator to send someone, giving your address to the woman on the phone.

“Please! He- He’s trying to break the door down,” you sobbed. “I’m scared he’s going to hurt me o-or worse!”

“Y/N, I swear to god when I get in there, you’re going to be sorry!” Rafe roared from the other side of the door. He cursed when he hit it too hard, apparently injuring his hand.

You couldn’t do anything but hide in the corner, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to get in before the cops arrived.

Sitting there on the floor felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes before you heard a pounding on the front door and you nearly passed out with relief.

The activity outside of the bathroom door stopped suddenly as Rafe realized what was happening. He cursed, loud enough for you to hear, but not nearly at the same volume before.

You knew it was safe to step out of the bathroom when you heard him greet the people at the front door. You brushed the tears from your eyes, trying to compose yourself.

“Good evening officers, what can I do for you tonight?” He was trying to act nonchalant, but there was a tense edge to his voice you couldn’t mistake.

You could hear muffled responses growing louder as you approached the door and you knew the officers must have noticed you, because the speaking stopped and Rafe turned to look at you.

Anger that only you could see flashed across his eyes, but even he knew better than to display it in front of cops. The blond stepped to the side to allow you to stand beside him, and he grabbed your hand lovingly as if to say, ‘look officers, everything is okay here.’

“Are you having any problems tonight ma’am?” One of the officers asked you with a concerned look.

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, warning you not to say anything. A lump formed in your throat. Did you even have it in you to say something?

With a sniffle, you plastered on a small smile, “N-no. We haven’t had any issues here.”

The officers looked slightly surprised at that, glancing at each other and exchanging a brief, wordless conversation.

“Well, procedure says that we have to interview you both separately.” One of them explained.

“This is just stupid,” Rafe complained. “I think we’d rather talk to you together, isn’t that right baby?”

Hesitantly, you nodded with lowered eyes, “Yeah.”

“Unfortunately, procedure is procedure, and we have to do it this way.” The woman explained, and her male partner nodded in agreement.

“How about I interview you,” she looked at you. “And my partner will interview you,” she said with a pointed look towards Rafe.

“Fine,” he spat out through gritted teeth, flashing you a warning look before he was led away to talk to the other cop.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you were left alone, and the cop gave you another concerned look.

“What’s your name honey?”

You told her.

“What happened tonight, ma’am?” She asked you gently and you almost broke down right there. Tears sprung to your eyes and you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“I-I was so scared,” you confessed. Her eyes wandered to your neck, able to make out the old bruises and the redness on your cheek that had only started to fade.

“He just gets so angry at me and-” a sob cut you off, voice breaking as you remembered the fight. “H-he was choking me, and.. I didn’t think he was going to stop.”

The tears were flowing more now as you recounted what had happened, and the cop gave you a sympathetic look. Your hands fell in your lap and her attention was drawn to your bare legs which were littered with tiny cuts from when Rafe had pushed you into glass the previous week.

She paused before speaking, “Listen, I don’t know how it’s going with my partner, Michael and your boyfriend, but I would feel comfortable taking your boyfriend down to the station based on what you’ve told me. How does that sound to you?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You didn’t really know what you had expected when you called. You were just so scared with what he might do, you did the only thing you could think.

And now you were faced with an impossible decision.

Agree with this and let them take Rafe, and he would be let out who knows when. But say no, and you would have to face the wrath of Rafe tonight, and you knew that he was more pissed off than you had ever seen him.

Without even knowing that you had made up your mind, you found your head nodding, tears coming to your eyes.

You would deal with Rafe later. But tonight, you were just happy with the idea of sleeping alone for the first time in months.

~~~~~~~

“And so you’re saying you two had an argument, but it never got physical?”

“No, I would never lay a hand on her! You heard her yourself, we haven’t had any problems tonight.” Rafe smiled, southern charm laid on thick. He had dealt with police many times before, and when they weren’t sticking their noses into shit that he was involved in, he respected them.

But he also knew how to manipulate them.

The cops eyed Rafe’s hand and the scratches on his arm.

“Get into a bar fight?” He questioned.

“Ah no, got into a little motorcycle accident. Nothing too bad, just fell over, you know how it is,” the blond chuckled.

“And you don’t know who made the call?” The officer raised an eyebrow as he questioned the blond.

“No clue. Maybe some kids in the neighborhood made a prank call or something,” he laughed casually, throwing a polite smile at the man across from him.

The officer chuckled, “yeah we do get a lot of those.” He clicked his pen, flipping his notebook shut. “Well, I think I’ve got all I needed from you. Thank you very much sir. And uh, tell your dad I said hi.”

“Will do,” Rafe grinned, extending a hand to shake the officer’s.

“You just sit tight here, I gotta talk with my partner real quick and then I’ll update you on what’s going on.”

He walked away from the taller man. Rafe leaned against a tree in the park at the middle of the sprawling apartment complexes watching him walk back.

Most of what they discussed, he couldn’t make out and the female cop turned to look at him several times.

The only thing he did hear was “Hey, do you know who this guy is? That’s Rafe Cameron. Yeah, that Cameron.”

Eventually they both walked over and Rafe stood up straight as they approached.

“So, are we all good here?” He asked, charming smile ever present.

“Well,” she said, looking over at her partner. “Not quite.”

~~~~~~

You locked the front door, the only door, dutiful to make sure all of the windows were locked as well.

You knew that Rafe was going to be in jail for a few nights at least, but you wanted to be careful anyways.

Last night had been the best you had slept in months. No fears of wandering hands, or unwanted advances that you had no emotional capacity for.

Slipping into your bed and being able to be safe while you slept was all you had dreamed about for so long.

You curled up in the blanket, unaware of the sound of the front door opening softly as you tried to drift off to sleep.

The click of your bedroom door opening had you jolting awake though. And you were shocked to see a familiar figure leering in the doorway.

“H-h-how the fuck did you get in here?” You whispered in a panic, sitting up and alert in bed.

“Oh sweetheart, you didn’t think I had a spare made?” His tone was ice cold and mocking. You could almost feel the rage radiating off of him.

Rafe took a step into the room, closing and locking the door behind him and your stomach dropped.

“How are you here? You got taken away, I- I saw it,” you didn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Ward pulled a few strings, can’t have a stain on the Cameron name,” he spat out bitterly. Rafe stalked further into the room, nearing your bed, a predatory look in his eyes that almost stopped your heart.

Your eyes whipped to the phone on your bedside table and you lurched toward it at the same time that he did.

“Nuh uh. Not this time, sweetheart.” He wrestled with you, hands grabbing at the phone that he wretched from your grasp.

To your horror, he threw your phone against the wall, and you watched it smash to pieces.

Your only lifeline was gone.

You fought back hard against him, but the victor was inevitable. You both knew it from the minute he stepped into the room.

He threw you onto the bed, roughly grabbing at your thin nightwear. He tore your blouse, hands ripping the material as you hit him, trying desperately to stop his assault.

“Stop- stop fucking fighting!” He roared as he kicked your legs open, fumbling with his shorts and your crying intensified.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard as he forced himself into you. You let out a strained gasp at the feeling, head falling back against the pillow in shock. Rafe pinned you down against the bed by your throat, cock sliding in and out of you at a torturously fast pace.

“You thought you were gonna get rid of me that easy, Y/N?” Rafe jeered as he snapped his hips against yours. The pressure at your throat increased, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Are you really that stupid?”

You shook your head, tears falling past your lashes. Thoughts jumbled inside your head, the cloud of fear and arousal confused you.

“You got what you wanted. You called the cops, and they aren’t gonna help you,” his lip curled in sadistic pleasure as he belittled you.

His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the bed as he twisted it painfully. You tried to turn your face away from him when he came close, but he grabbed your chin, holding you in place as his lips smothered yours. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, lips moving against yours against your will.

A sick feeling was growing in your stomach, the sinful combination of pain and pleasure mixing within you.

Every thrust of his cock had you gasping and moaning against his lips. Your legs shook as he took his anger out on you, plunging deeper and harder than ever before.

The grip at your throat was getting harder, constricting your breathing even more. You gasped when he finally pulled his face away.

“You could have ruined everything,” Rafe seethed. Your teary eyes meant nothing to him. Nauseatingly, you realized that this was a punishment because you had dared to try to leave. Dared to say anything.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know I do. You know I do. And I’ll be dead in the ground before I let you walk out on me.” He was fucking you frantically now, every thrust a cruel promise of his threats.

When he hit that spot that made you see stars again and again, you came undone. You bit your lip, crying out as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, shame burning across your face, conflicted by your body’s reaction.

“Fuuck-” Rafe groaned loudly as you squeezed around his cock, and he came hard, pumping his hot load deep into your sore cunt, before he began to move his hips again.

And when his hungry, piercing eyes met yours again, you knew that the night was far from over.

#rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #obx #dark rafe cameron #no way out #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron x reader

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stararch4ngelqueen · 7 months

Text

Sheer Irony

(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)

—

Time written- 5:58 p.m

Titans!Jason Todd/fem!reader angst/fluff (TW: Suicide Mention/Attempt)

—

A faint breeze blows along your cheeks as you open the door, eyes glazing over a broad horizon full of dreary skies and rooftops. You find who you’re looking for standing ontop of a metallic platform framing along the edge of the building, his downturned head peering down at the dense, vacant streets below.

A long, harsh, catastrophic drop with just the wrong step.

Confusion rattled your mind when you wondered exactly what the hell was going on, never seeing such a trifling event happen in the common area. Millions of questions followed once you heard the screaming.

A million more followed suit when you walked in on the hostile environment, the air thick with static tension.

“You people are insane!” He had cried out by the second you entered the room, surprised to find a short crowd of people against him. Friends, colleagues, all glaring at him with accusations you didn’t fully hear.

“I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes,” Jason states with an emotional quiver in his tone, growing more detectable towards the end of his words. “You think everything’s my fault.”

“Jason?” You call out to him, seeing his head lightly peek over his shoulder. Whether he heard you or not, he knew you arrived once the door was slammed shut behind you due to the wind.

“What do you want?” He asks with understandable bitterness wrapped up in a solemn tone, as if you were a stranger he could’ve cared less about.

Technically, you and Jason were colleagues for a long time, but never really reached the category of friends.

He was an obnoxious, painfully reckless Robin, but he was good. You were good, training yourself to set your differences aside to put the tasks at hand. You provided data, not violence.

The task now was to set those barriers of yours down with intentions to knock on his.

“To talk.” You reply, not wanting to approach further than you had to, but a huge part of you wanted to go further.

“Look. I don’t wanna hear any more bullshit—“

“Not about that,” you insist. “Just to talk, that’s all.”

To talk, to buy time. Anything.

Waves of guilt coursed through your veins for him, for his safety. The strong winds could easily sweep him off his feet if he allowed it, the tension in his braced legs preventing him from slipping off the ledge he stood on for now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jason states, his lungs burning with reach trembling breath he took. “The others think you’re crazy following me out here.”

“I don’t care what they think,” was your response, rooftop gravel crunching underneath your shoe as you took a slow step forward. “I don’t want you to be alone out here. That’s what matters.”

“Why?” He questions, refusing to turn around and face you with full disbelief on his face. “You hate me. You can’t stand me every time I’m around. No one can.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, slowly getting yourself to take another step forward. About four feet of distance remained between you and Jason, your mind cluttered with ideas on how to get him

“Jason, I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t need to lie to me,” Jason mutters, not believing you for a good second. You understood that he wouldn’t trust anyone after what you witnessed. You didn’t want to be on that side.

The steel frames were tall enough for you to hop up yourself, but the height was unnerving.

He remained quiet, pondering his rancid emotions running nonstop in his head. He felt himself nothing but poison; black pitch that stuck to everyone who so much as touched him, costing their skin like a cancer until it killed them.

That’s what was happening now, wasn’t it? Everyone was hating him, blaming him for things he didn’t understand. Now, here you were, coming up to add onto the pile. He assumed that on the spot. Why else were you here?

Bracing your hands along the beam, you push yourself up on it, fighting back your fear of heights to put yourself into this vulnerable position. Thinking slowly, you ponder over what else you could do, thinking over in your mind.

“Wanna sit?” You say, hoping he’d take the hand that offered such an innocent suggestion. “Talking is easier to do when sitting.”

To show this, you move into a sitting position beside him, feeling a little less tense on your concerns for falling. Jason doesn’t take the bait at first, only wondering as to why you were still even trying with him.

“You don’t need to be here,” he reverberates, but you weren’t going to have it.

“Neither do you,” you glanced up at him, seeing his attention fully focused on you, sitting beside him as of the ledge was just an every day public park bench.

Reluctantly, he shifts his position, leaving you to thank the Gods. With Jason sitting, you had much better control and opportunity to catch him, with the roof behind you to break both your fall.

“Do you want the truth?” You hesitantly ask, wondering if that’s what he needed. Someone who didn’t follow the others, who didn’t view him as a scapegoat to their problems, just because the unintentional category he fell into without realizing.

Just a glance of his bruised face in your direction after staring ahead for so long gave you the sign, smoothing your sweaty palms over thighs.

“You can be… obnoxious sometimes,” you proceed, slowly making the decision to proceed. “But not dark, or annoying, or… Look. I don’t get why they accused you on the spot. I really don’t.”

Silence continued to rattle his physique. His shifting head slowly peering downwards after hearing your words. His heartbeat began drumming in his head, his lungs burning with an irritated sting, his throat going dry.

“I might not like how you are, Jason,” you blatantly confess, “But I tolerate you enough to understand that you didn’t deserve this.”

There it was. Catching him off guard by cold facts, only to soothe the blow with truth. Your truth, the truth that should matter.

Not everyone was against him.

A part of him appreciates it, but at the same time, he grew irritated at your persistence to tell him what he already knew. It only made his feelings for you that much harder to understand.

He was supposed to not like you.

You were smart, yes. You popped one liners when you helped relay information to the Titans, read books and kept journals by yourself during your free time, and listened to music when you were in desperate need of relief after plenty of audible overstimulation.

The way you had your hair styled on different days, your persistence of spraying perfume on yourself before going to bed.

You weren’t loud, you weren’t overtly quiet. You respected business and boundaries, despite your job to hack and defy the purpose of them behind a computer screen.

He hated how unique yet simple you were. No one would suspect you of your talents, balancing your double life with little to mo effort.

“You don’t deserve this, Jason,” you say in order to remind him, watching his calloused fingers slowly flexing in his lap, signifying his various difficult emotions. You’d say it as many times as you needed to, to ram it into his every day thoughts.

“I don’t hate you,” you shake your head, peering at his battered, slowly healing face. “And… maybe I don’t entirely hate just how annoying you are. Sometimes, it makes things fun on a boring night.”

The corner of his busted lip rose in a faint, subtle smile. That made an interesting amount of sense. Maybe he was the type to irritate you on purpose, especially during his much earlier days.

His much earlier, flirtier Robin days.

“How annoying?”

Maybe, just maybe, being his friend didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Horribly,” you instantly reply as it became your turn to smile. “I mean it. Every day I wake up and dread what stupid thing you’d say next. What could you possibly say today for me to cringe at.”

If the both of you weren’t sitting on the edge of a building, Jason would have half a heart to nudge you with his shoulder. But, he knew your fear of heights.

“You think of me?”

“It’s hard not to, Jay.”

—

“Did I miss a party?” You announce as you enter the dark, gloomy hallway, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of two tall men talking to one another. A pile of unconscious bodies explaining their rigorous treatments just moments before you arrived.

“You missed the fun,” Jason chides, an amused smirk quickly growing on his face. The first full bodied smile Tim had seen on Jason since they met.

“A little earlier, you coulda joined in on your kickass computer skills.”

“Oh, ha ha,” you say, catching sight of Jason’s said laptop abandoned on the ground, bits of broken glass hinting at an unsalvageable screen. “Looks like someone beat me to it already.”

“It’s you.” Tim’s voice makes your head raise, giving the man a smile as you take in his Robin uniform.

“It’s me,” you reply, feeling a nostalgic flutter in your chest upon seeing that uniform worn by someone new. “I see Dick passed on the torch. How’s it feel?”

“He’s learning fast,” Jason gestures with a raised finger before pointing towards the bodies. “Very fast.”

“I see that.”

Ever since you had made the choice to step back from your position with the Titans a while back, life had gotten more chaotic in very unexpected ways.

You changed; in heart, in mind, in maturity.

You’ve grieved your best friend’s death, silently took pleasure in violent justice in the deaths of those who’ve betrayed and harmed your colleagues. You grieved once more when masks were unveiled, and even aided the wrong crowds for a while.

At your age, you’ve seen it all, you’ve learned from other peoples mistakes, as well as your own. You hated it, but accepted the lessons learned. As off as that sounds, that’s the best way you could describe it.

You kept in touch with Dick when he needed the help from the ‘attractive computer geek,’ so you were at least aware of what was going on. Hearing it all from Tim’s perspective brought back the times when you used to work alongside a particular ex-Robin, who remained standing close to your side during all topics of discussion.

“I got to meet the great Red Hood,” you watched with a smile a few steps up on the staircase as Tim prods Jason’s chest in a friendly manner, causing a flare in his ego as he chuckles in response.

“Don’t forget her,” Jason gestures his head up towards you, Tim’s eyes catching the faint flush in your cheeks.

“Poor girl’s kept us from running around with our heads cut off for years.”

“Always gotta respect the tech workers,” Tim agrees with a nod, making you scoff in amusement. “At least you didn’t call me ‘customer support’. That’s Grayson’s favorite.”

You said you were leaving when Tim was considerate to offer you a ride, but you brush off that you had your own, intending to head out for a date in two hours.

But, you weren’t.

The Titans, old or new, didn’t need to know all your secrets, regardless if cracking them was your specialty.

“You gave him your bike?” You ask once he gets off the phone with said old bird, approaching him as he gazed up at a clear board with various equations scrawled on the surface.

“Just sits there getting dust in the corner. I trust him to take care of it.” Jason sips at his dark drink once more before trailing off to the side, setting the bottle down.

“Still on for tomorrow night?” Jason asks, watching smile form on your face. The date. It was kinda true.

“Of course. Just came by to get my lipgloss.” You smirk, raising up your cherry flavored lip product you had to fetch from under his bed where it had rolled. “Forgot it here last night, remember?”

“How could I ever.” Jason replies with a lowered rumble, recalling all the memories of the night prior, involving getting sticky, glittery cherry gloss along his lips, leaving remnants of it smeared on his neck after a very short, sexually tense conversation.

“Kinda thought you’d wear a scarf when you showed up,” he teases as he approached, amused at your eye roll.

“I don’t do scarves, Todd,” you state, feeling it harder to fight off a smile. Your hands ease off your hips to settle across Jason’s broad shoulders.

“Whatever you say, shortcake.”

By now, you should take up a job at being a makeup counter girl, especially considering how well you managed to cover up your hickies over the span of many, many months.

Your nose lightly brushes with his, his lips merely missing yours on purpose, planting a single kiss on the corner of your mouth before holding you closer, your hips smugly fitting into his hands.

You were a breath of fresh, rainstorm air after a dark storm, your perfume clinging to his clothes for days.

“Was thinkin’,” he murmurs. “We’d try to reenact last night for our date night.”

“Hmm, with a different flavor?”

“You taste a lot better without it.”

You giggle, settling your hands along his back to keep secure in this comforting embrace.

“You think of me like that?” The words softly leave your lips.

He smiles down at you, his eyes full of warmth and comfort in your presence, cradling your right cheek after fixing a bit of your hair. He can’t help but shift attention to your pretty lips; perfect petal soft skin that displayed the prettiest of smiles to his god awful humor.

“It’s hard not to, babe.”

#dc jason todd #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #dc titans #titans dc #jason todd dc #idk #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus size reader #idk where I was going with this #pt.2?

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