#I want more con but I want nothing bad to happen to him ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perlelune · 6 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent.

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been.

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally.

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues.

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends.

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually.

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight.

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation.

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath.

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs.

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time.

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you.

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point.

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.”

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene.

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to.

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done.

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room.

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs.

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t.

It makes you realize how much you missed.

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest.

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it.

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead.

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you.

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds.

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness.

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest.

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side.

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss.

He returns to the space between your thighs.

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs.

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core.

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t.

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling.

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles.

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him.

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead.

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted.

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone.

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

2K notes · View notes

inez-winchester-cameron · 4 months

Note

omg pls write more of what you just posted of rafe with that age gap it's sooo hot 😭 like something about the reader being bratty on purpose and sassing him

cw: dark!rafe x younger!reader, 29 and 19, non-con/rape, drug use, intoxicated reader, talks of free use and public sex, abusive relationship

note: is this too dark, yes or no

rafe HATES when you disobey at parties. ever since you two have started dating, you have a bad habit of misbehaving at parties to get more attention from rafe. whether that be overdrinking, snorting coke, smoking weed, or flirting with other guys. all of these being things that you KNOW rafe disapproves of.

tonight, it happened to be a mix of all of them. you went to the restroom and came back to rafe talking with one of his ex girlfriends, sofia. you completely being oblivious to the fact that he was telling her off. you huff and head back into the room where topper and kelce sit.

they're doing lines and drinking, sitting on opposite sides of a loveseat.

"hey, y/n, have a seat," topper politely greets you, gesturing to an empty chair beside the loveseat but you smile and sit inbetween topper and kelce. they give eachother a look but say nothing.

"whatcha guys doin?" you ask, looking over toppers shoulder as he sets up a line.

"coke, nothing you should concern yourself with."

"yeah rafe would kill us if he knew you were anywhere near this," kelce comments.

"hes too busy bein up sofia's pussy to care. can i do a line?"

kelce and topper both look at you at this comment, a little shocked. they knew rafe and how loyal he was to you, he never even so much as entertained another girl.

"you saw him up her pussy?" kelce asks, confused.

"well no but- it doesnt even matter, just let me do a line."

"sweetheart i dont think-" topper starts.

"pleaseeeeee?" you beg, giving him puppy eyes.

topper sighs and glances to kelce who shrugs. eventually topper responds, "okay fine, sweetie, but you cannot tell rafe."

"i won't, promise! ill even pinky promise if you want!"

topper stares at you for a moment, finding your innocence both endearing and hot at the same time. too bad you aren't his. topper sets up a line for you and gently guides you onto your knees in front of the table. he gives you the dollar bill and guides you as you snort it. you let it sit for a minute, not feeling anything, then it hits. and you want more.

"again!" you say, looking at topper, feeling your brain begin to buzz.

"yeah no i don't-"

"what the fuck are you doing?"

your eyes shoot to the doorway. rafe stands there, arms crossed, hair messy, blood on his knuckles, and he looks pissed.

"rafey!" you greet him, trying to pretend you didn't just snort cocaine. you stand up, swaying, and subsequently falling back onto the couch.

"what the fuck guys?" rafe questions, walking over to you. he looks pissed, "how much did you give her?"

"just a line, man, she asked for it. quite literally," kelce speaks first and topper agrees.

"i didn't know you don't let her do that man, im sorry-" topper defends himself and rafe shakes his head, calming down a bit.

"nah you're good, man. it's her fault. come on, princess, we have some business to discuss." rafe says through gritted teeth, roughly grabbing your arm and heading to his room. once you're upstairs and away from people, he starts scolding you, "what the fuck were you thinking? you know so much better than that."

"you were talking to Sof-"

"yeah i was telling her to go suck a fucking dick. then i beat the shit out of her boyfriend for calling you a whore. but maybe he was right, you don't think about anyone but yourself, huh? always just assuming. saw the way you were staring at top." rafe speaks with no sympathy and you two slip into his bedroom. he presses you down onto the bed, holding your hands behind your back as he flips your little skirt up, "no panties? you fucking serious? god what is wrong with you? you stupid little whore."

you hear his belt unbuckle and your head continues buzzing from your high. soon enough, you feel his cock, pushing into you. it's immediately too much.

"rafe-! no no no-"

"don't tell me fucking no, bitch. act like a whore, get treated like one. maybe i should've just fucked you downstairs," rafe starts, setting a fast pace with his thrusts, not hearing any of your protests, "or maybe i should tie you up down there, let all these drunk men use your holes since you wanna disobey. i think that's a fair punishment, huh? i try to be nice and defend your honor and you make eyes at two of my best friends. fucking bitch."

"rafe i didn't- i don't want this- stop!" you beg but rafe doesn't care. he simply tugs your hair in response as you start crying. your head is pounding and it's all too much.

"that's it, cry for it, bitch. this is my fucking pussy and i'm gonna use it when i want. now whine one more time and i'm gonna make this pussy free use to the entire island."

you whimper and stay quiet in response. you think about leaving rafe, but you can't, you love him and maybe you even secretly loved being fucked against your will.

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshots #rafe obx #rafe cameron thirst

825 notes · View notes

lovincherries · 6 months

Text

Corio's Pawn

a/n: first of all, I want to say hi! I know it's been a really long time since i've written anything and i wanted to say thank you for your patience. 2023 has easily been the hardest year of my life, and i am so grateful for all your messages and support. it has truly meant the world to me. hopefully you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. i love you guys! (p.s it's almost been a year since i have written anything, of course snow brought me out of my slump)

NOT PROOF READ! I AM LAZY

word count: 3,735

warnings: taking of virginity, dub con, breeding kink, just smut! corio being corio (bad), reader is curvy (idk actually, i think i only mention it once, but you could really skim those parts. it isn't central to the storyline tbh)

You had loved Corio long before he knew you existed. To you, he was everything you wanted, everything that you desired, everything that you longed for. To him, you were a shy girl, kind, sweet, but shy and rather unnoticeable, or you were unnoticeable. You don't know what did it, neither did he really. He didn't know if it was the harshness of district 12, or the uncertainty (and paranoia) that Lucy gray caused him that made him long for you when he arrived home, or if it were the fact that he really looked at you for the first time. You had the softness that he desired, and the look in your eyes that you would give up everything for him if he said the word. He desired that kind of relationship, one where he held the power and none of the vulnerability. With you, he had nothing to lose. There was no game you were playing, your eyes and quiet smiles held everything he needed to know.

Before he left for District 12, and before the 10th games, Corio considered love a waste of time and resources. After, he considered it a betting game that both sides were bound to lose. While he considered love a waste of time, his desires and needs were still prevalent and crowding his head with thoughts where plans and ideas should be. That's when you fell into his lap, his little rose. It didn't take him long to realize the hold that he had over you, and it took him even less time to put his charm to use.

He knew what you were, a good girl who came from good parents that raised her right. And while the whole world had long since passed the concept of purity, he knew it was something that your parents had taught to you. His little white rose. Except, he didn't want to keep you that way. He didn't have to ask if you were pure, it was something he could almost smell. Your innocence seeped out of your pores like a perfume he couldn't get enough of. Before, he never noticed you, now you were all he desired. He wanted to know all your curves and edges, wanted to fulfill your desires, he wanted to take you. Most of all, he desired to see your cheeks red, your eyes dark with desire, and his cum filling you up.

You and Corio had been seeing each other for a few months, and while you tried to pretend like it wasn't the most exciting thing to ever happen to you, it was. He was all you could think about, all you could talk about with your parents, and he was the only person you wanted to see. You were oblivious to his charm, blinded by everything that he promised to you. You were funnier and more interesting than he originally gave you credit for, he could actually relax around you and laugh, but he would never turn off the person he presented to be. He couldn't wait for much longer though, his composure was slipping, and all he could think about was being wrapped into your legs and diving into you. Your kisses were sweet and genuine, you kissed him with love, but he wanted something darker. He needed it. It was something you didn't intend to give to him though, not that you really knew what you were giving or not.

Your parents had long taught you that certain things were for married couples, after all, if you weren't pure you weren't going to be any good to them to marry off. Even to them you were a pawn, a piece that only furthered their own further interests and success. That being the reason why you were probably oblivious to the games Corio was playing with you. And you didn't know it, but tonight was the night Corio was going to win a game that you didn't know you were playing.

You were getting ready for bed, your light blue light gown skimmed mid-thigh as you sat down at your vanity brushing through your long hair. You examined your features as you did, humming a song that had been stuck in your head all day. You heard a soft knock at your window, turning your head to look for what made the sound, but you found nothing. You quickly brushed it off and went back to the task at hand, your mind getting lost in thought about a certain someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It was almost like he never really left your mind at all, he was constantly grazing your thoughts. He seemed to appear everywhere that you went, in the color red, in roses, in the fallen snow on the ground. It wasn't till you heard another knock at your window, this one much harder than the last, that you actually went over to check what was making the noise.

When you looked you found your lover waiting for you, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold wind that bite at his face outside. An instant smile flew to your face when you saw him, a white rose clutched in his hand, waiting for you. You quickly opened your window to let him in, he had never done this before. You quickly tried to fight the nervousness in your stomach while you lifted the window as you almost sang his name with excitement. The cold air bit at your nipples, making them hard in an instant as it flew in from the outside. You quickly shut the window after he made it inside, a smile so big on your face that your cheeks hurt from the strain. You were so excited to see him, that you didn't notice the darkness that clouded his eyes, or his gaze that kept falling down to your almost see through dress.

"Corio!" You sang again, your arms hugging around his broad shoulders, you stepped on your tip toes to be able to reach that high. You laughed gleefully, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lifted you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as you giggled in excitement, your night gown riding up to the point it almost exposed your white panties. Corio quickly put you down after the initial excitement, softly kissing your lips after your feet touched the floor.

"My rose!" He laughed purposefully, looking down at you. Your innocence and excitement gleaming up at him through your eyes, and all he could think about was taking it from you. Unbeknownst to you. Corio's height gave him an advantage to look down at your swollen breasts in your night gown. It caused his dick to strain in his pants, he wanted to audibly groan from the pain, but he knew that tonight he was going to get what he wanted.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your smile radiating through your words. He picked up the rose that had slightly gotten crushed in your big hug.

"I was thinking of you when I saw this, and I just had to come bring it to you," he said as he brought the rose to your hand. It was beautiful, even with some of the petals fallen onto the floor. Your heart melted at the thought of him thinking of you, if only you knew the ways he thought of you.

"Thank you, Corio, it's beautiful!" You gleamed as you took the rose, "I don't have anything to put it in here though," you quickly frowned. You knew that your parents would hear you if you began clattering about through your house looking for a vase. He brought his hand to smooth the lines of your worry, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"It's okay," he soothed. Even while he was comforting you, power radiated off of him, "I can always bring you more." You quickly set the rose on your vanity where you had sat moments before. You were so comfortable with him; it didn't even register in your mind what you were wearing and how inappropriate it might be.

Corio walked over to your bed and sat down, not bothering to ask for permission. He admired you from a distance, your curves prominent in the night gown. Your nipples poking through your dress, begging for his attention, begging for his lips. He would get down on his knees and beg now (something he would never admit to), if it meant that he could suck on them. You turned around fully to face him, looking at him with so much love and admiration.

"Come here, love," He stated, not giving you an option to say no. You did as he demanded, your hips swinging in an unknowingly alluring manner. He grabbed your hands when you were stood in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped at the action, attempting to pull away from the shock of the sudden closeness but his grip stayed firm. Your legs encased his hips, his hard dick pushing into your folds. You weren't necessarily used to this type of intimacy with Corio, but he had been getting you prepared for what was to come. Heated kisses whenever you two were alone, his fingers would always brush your most sensitive parts without getting too close. He knew how to make you long for things, without you even necessarily realizing what you were longing for. You didn't even really process what was poking into you know, all you knew was that it shot tingles up your spin.

"Corio!" You gasped again when he slightly pushed his hips into yours, an uncontrollable movement on his part, but he longed for a touch that he hadn't felt in so long. His head fell into the nape of your neck, landing soft kisses from your exposed collarbone to your jaw. You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips, but it also sent a familiar warmth through you.

"So beautiful," he murmured, still planting kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his face and made him face you as you planted fast kisses all over his cheeks in face in a girlish manner, giggling softly. Corio smiled at the action, letting it warm his cold heart for only a minute. The guilt of what he was going to do tinged his thoughts for a second before he thought about what he wanted, what he needed. He knew he didn't love you, but you were something he wanted, something he possessed. He liked his possessions.

You both stared at each other for a minute, your hands still cupping his cheeks and his hands held your hips firmly. The light feeling from before replaced itself with something heavier, something you couldn't quite place, and you weren't sure if you wanted to. You saw Corio's eyes fall down to your lips, your hands fell from his face and landed on his chest as the tension weighed down on yours. Corio gripped your hips tighter, squeezing him impossibly closer to you as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started off sweet, his lips brushing against yours softly. This you were used to, you quickly fell into the groove of his lips. Finding your home in the way he touched you. There was something different this time though, something new. Corio quickly made the kiss faster, harder, and you tried your hardest to keep up. He licked your bottom lip, asking for permission. You parted your lips, trying your best to match his fast aggressive pace. His tongue edging yours. Your hands now gripped his face out of instinct and his right hand trailed to grab your breast. You gasped into the kiss; he had never done that before. He squeezed as he pushed his hips into yours, eliciting a moan from your lips as his dick pressed into your clit. You had never felt this way before.

Corio pressed himself harder into you, he could feel the wetness from your cotton underwear staining his red pressed trousers, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted to find himself was deep into you, pounding into you, he wanted to feel you quiver around him. His lips were still attached to yours, the rhythm long gone, it was all teeth and tongue. He was surprised at your ability to keep up with him, but he noticed your hesitancy. He moved back from you, separating the kiss harshly. You gasped at the lack of contact, subconsciously pushing your hips into his. Longing for that pleasure that he was giving to you.

"Y/N," Corio said sternly, causing you to look at him. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "I need you." He said, with as much desperation he could allow himself. Corio wasn't above begging you for what he wanted, although he would never admit it.

"You have me," you said softly, attempting to smile at him. You leaned back into the kiss, attempting to regain the passion, but he stopped you.

"No, I need you," he emphasized the need, pushing his hips into yours. Your face held the confusion that you were thinking. That was another thing he liked about you, if you wouldn't say it, your face would. It made it extremely easy for him to understand you.

"I-I don't get what you mean," you stuttered, your lips making a slight o shape when he pushed into you again. He moved his hands down to your vagina, eliciting another gasp from your lips.

"I need you here," he said as he moved your dress to your hips and pushed your panties to the side. His fingers grazed your soaking folds, both of you looking down to find a dark wet spot on the crotch of his trousers. "It feels like you need me to, my rose," he said softly, as his fingers dived in between your folds. He quickly found your clit, pressing into it as he watched your sweet face change in pleasure.

"I don't understand still," your voice cried out in pleasure and confusion. He could almost hear the tears in your voice, it should have made him stop, should have made him quit, but it only made him want to take it further.

He used his spare hand to grab yours, he slowly pulled it over his hard chest. You felt the bumps and ridges of his ab muscles and then felt the hardness of his dick. He forced you to squeeze him with your hands, still circling your clit in a harsh manner.

"Y/N, I need you," he emphasized by pushing into your clit, causing you to throw your head back, "here." He said using your hand to squeeze his dick. You didn't respond, you couldn't from the shock waves his fingers were sending through your body.

Corio moved his pointer finger from your clit to your entrance, your wetness coating him even more. He didn't know a girl could get so wet, but God was he grateful for that. All he could think about was you encasing him, your heat squeezing him till he forgot all about District 12 and that Lucy Gray. He could imagine a life with you, a real life, one with happiness and love, but that thought quickly disappeared from his mind.

He could see a life with you though, maybe not a real one but a life. One where you were constantly swollen with his babies. The thought of that caused him to groan as he pushed his pointer finger into you. As he felt you squeeze his finger, all he could think about was how good you were going to feel.

"Please, Y/N," Corio begged, you had never heard such a neediness in his voice before, not that you were aware enough to pick up on it. All you could think about was his finger in you and his thumb grazing your clit.

"O-okay," you agreed. Not even exactly sure what you were agreeing to, but you had a feeling it wasn't necessarily good.

Corio let out a sigh of relief at your agreeance, as much as it shamed him to admit, he would've gotten on his knees for that affirmation. He quickly threw his shirt of his head and gripped your waist. He pulled you in for another kiss, pulling you down onto him once more. Your exposed folds felt even more of him. He quickly tossed you around, laying you on your back as he stood in front of you.

He sat you up, lifting you light blue dress over your head. Your swollen breasts now bare for his viewing, but not an ounce of insecurity ran through your head. You trusted him with everything you had in you. You truly believed he would never hurt you.

"God," he groaned as he looked at you. He couldn't waste another second not being inside of you, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs. You admired his muscular form, which only sent more waves of warmth down you. You gasped as he pulled his dick out from his pants, it looked terrifyingly huge for a moment. He laughed at your expression but swelled up with pride as you looked at him with amazement. He quickly pulled your white cotton underwear off of your legs, looking down at your glimmering heat. He needed to be inside of you.

He crawled on top of you, kissing his way from your torso to your breast. He licked at your nipple before fully enveloping it with his mouth and sucking on it. This caused you to let out a loud moan, the tingle that you felt from this sent shockwaves everywhere. He released it, but not before biting it harshly.

He then moved up more, bringing your legs around his waist and his dick in between your folds. You let out a sigh of relief from the contact and he kissed your lips. This time, much softer, gentler than before. He began to grind himself into you, properly getting himself coated in your wetness.

He guided the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly poking himself in. He maintained control of himself in this moment, even when you moaned from the pleasurable contact. He just put the tip in and you already felt so full. Corio had to separate himself from the kiss and his head found its home in the nape of your neck. He was breathing heavily as he maintained control, slowly pushing into you. Even though, all he wanted to do was wreck you.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Stopping every few seconds to make sure you were okay, and not hurting. Before long, you were gasping at the fullness of him bottoming out into you. You two stayed like this for a long time before he lost control and started moving again.

"God damnit Y/N," he groaned, the sweat of losing control falling onto your skin. His words flew past you as the fullness was all that crowded your mind. "So fucking tight," he cursed as he drew himself out and back into you. He pivoted ever so slightly and was now making you see stars.

"Corio, corio, corio," you moaned as he now began to pound into you. Any sense of self control he had, was long gone as he heard you calling out his name with such need.

"So big," you moaned, drool coming out of your mouth as your grasped your breast with your hands. His hips stuttering inside of you as he watched you fondle yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N, fuck," he repeated, slamming into you harder. It should have hurt you, should have made you cry from the pressure, but it didn't. It drove you nearly as mad as he was. His words were lost on you, anything he said was tuned out by the feeling of being so full of him.

Your pussy let out squelching noises from how wet you were and hard he was pounding into you. Corio began to kiss to your ear and let out breathy whispers that you were too out of it to notice.

"Fucking hell, tightest pussy I've ever had," he murmured more to himself. Corio thought in his head he should have taken this from you long ago, you were handling yourself so well. He practically cursed himself out thinking of all the months he missed out on this feeling. You moans were fuel to his fire, your sweet soft voice paired with the debaucherous noises of your body colliding made him impossibly harder than he already was.

"Gonna fill you up," he moaned again, driving himself deeper into you. He was barely leaving you now, all he wanted was to be completely encased in you. "Wanna see you swell with my babies, want everyone to know that Coriolanus Snow was here," he talked in circles. One of his hands moving to press into your clit, this sent you into over drive. Your pussy began to squeeze him impossibly harder and your head was thrown back in the pleasure he was sending through you, you didn't know it but this was your very first orgasm.

Corio was trying his hardest to maintain his composure, to hold onto the feeling of driving himself inside of you like a mad man, but he quickly lost control when hearing your voice. "I love you, I love you, U love you," You repeated, pulling him closer to you with your legs. You squeezed him so tightly, he thought that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to leave your tight hole.

This only drove him further into you, and this is where he released his cum. His hips stuttered into yours for a solid minute, filling you up with everything he had been saving for you for the last few months. He came so much it began to spill out of you with him still inside of you. He looked down and saw how swollen your vagina was around him, the white semen leaking out around his dick, and for just a moment he wanted to say I love you too.

a/n: shit man. that took me two and a half hours.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #corio #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the hunger games smut #hunger games smut #gale smut #peeta smut #haymitch smut #smut #tbosbas smut

905 notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 10 months

Text

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining.

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression.

But something good did happen – you happen, of course.

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago!

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi.

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses.

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy.

— And she wasn’t?

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you.

— No.

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it.

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay.

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to.

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route.

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games.

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military.

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this.

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material.

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people.

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine.

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model.

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic.

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous.

The problem is – he knows that he can have you.

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize.

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is.

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines.

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir?

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you.

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money.

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again.

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay?

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger.

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean.

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much!

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert?

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control.

— No. Just coffee.

— Sugar?

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure.

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes.

— Ja. Thank you.

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out.

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half.

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here.

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him.

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes.

— Here is your coffee. Anything else?

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle.

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country.

You still want to ruffle his hair.

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his.

— Nein, thank you.

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right?

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died.

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting.

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament.

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not.

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days.

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly.

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you.

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it.

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills.

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too.

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir.

— Don’t wander at night again.

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts.

— I won’t. Promise.

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that.

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit.

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go.

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere konig #yandere x reader #yandere cod #fem reader

1K notes · View notes

virgincels · 4 months

Text

SCHADENFREUDE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism

note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3

rotten luck

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.

You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–

“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.

“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.

“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.

Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.

You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.

Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.

At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.

Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.

You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.

He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.

Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.

You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.

“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.

“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.

“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.

“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.

“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.

“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”

“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.

“What did I tell you?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.

Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.

“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.

“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.

“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.

“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”

“No…”

Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.

Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.

“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”

When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”

Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.

“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.

“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”

“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”

“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.

“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”

“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”

“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.

It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.

“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.

Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.

The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.

“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.

Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.

There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–

“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.

“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.

“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.

“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.

“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”

“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.

“You look like you need to shit really bad.”

“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.

Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.

“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.

“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.

“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.

“What about ‘em?”

“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.

“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.

“That’s what I like about them!”

Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.

“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”

“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”

A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.

“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.

Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–

He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.

“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.

“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”

Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.

Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.

“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.

The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.

Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.

Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.

‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.

“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“

“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”

“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”

“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.

“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.

“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.

“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.

He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”

“No, Leon…”

Click!

That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.

“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”

“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

491 notes · View notes

bbytamaki · 1 year

Text

more random obey me headcanons >:)

content: sfw headcanons, scars mentioned (from piercings), belphie has depression, all family love <3, not proofread >:((

note: i haven’t done any dateable hcs yet :(( might do some soon

— lucifer can’t stand bananas. it’s just a thing. even the smell will have him pressing his handkerchief over his mouth like a sick victorian man. does satan use this to his advantage? possibly.

— has very feminine hands. he covers them with gloves so he doesn’t have to hear asmo’s jealous whining. if anyone brings it up he’s not above strangling them with his dainty, girlish fingers.

— flexible. like shockingly. it doesn’t really come to light that often but every once in a while lucifer follows single mom yoga videos on the weekends.

— mammon has the prettiest facial features ever. like his eyes and lips look so good in candid photos. his magazine covers are the bane of asmo’s existence.

— bird tendencies. like i mean squawking and jumping like 3 feet in the air when startled. in his demon form he’s just a big parrot. he does the head tilt thing when he’s confused.

— if anyone stands in front of him for longer than a minute he’s picking lint out of their hair and fixing their clothes. his brothers have gotten more than used to his “preening” and either avoid standing around him for too long or just take it. lucifer does this too and sometimes they’ll just stand and fix each other’s clothes for like 5 minutes straight while everyone else is like “???”

— levi is tall. very tall. he’s just so scrawny and lanky and his posture is awful so you wouldn’t even notice until he actually straightens up to his full height. this rarely ever happens unless he’s in his demon form. when it does he is scary.

— cosplays online. his cosplay friends are some of his favorite people. he already sews his own costumes (as we’ve seen), and he’s really good at makeup. one of his future plans is to meet up in the human world to go to a con with his friends.

— screams like a little girl. one time mammon accidentally walked into the bathroom when levi was showering and he shrieked. lucifer ran to see what the commotion was because “how did a human child find their way into the devildom??” levi has never felt more embarrassed.

— satan watches trashy reality tv in his private time. bad girls club, keeping up with the kardashians, you name it.

— can sing the whole periodic table song by tom lehrer forward and backward. i think satan is actual really good at science and it would be his best and favorite subject.

— he just likes animals in general. he has a thing for bunnies after visiting a human world petting zoo.

— asmo has an abnormally long tongue, like surpassing attractive and approaching freakish. he usually keeps it in his mouth but once every so often decides to creep solomon out just for fun.

— has soooo many stripper friends. if you’re wondering how his hair and makeup stay in place the whole day, he learned from the best.

— he definitely designed an entire line of lingerie but only made one of each design. they’re ultra rare collectibles in the devildom and worth more than you could imagine.

— beel can french braid and make friendship bracelets like he’s going to a girl scout camp. nobody can tell me he didn’t hand make the necklaces he wears.

— speaking of martha stewart beel, he can crochet and makes blankets and cute plushies for belphie all the time.

— luke is actually his little brother and no one can convince him otherwise lol they go back and forth over nothing all the time and stop talking to each other until one of them says “what do you want for dinner”

— belphie is the king of doing his own piercings at home because why pay $50 for something he already knows how to do? he ends up taking some of them out before they heal because he gets tired of them and ends up with a bunch of scars on his face and body.

— you and beel are his dream journal. he texts the attic club gc after every nap to tell you guys what his latest dream was about. (you’re the two people that show up in his dreams the most.)

— goes absolutely dormant during depressive episodes. the complete opposite of his twin brother (beel has to keep busy at all times to stay distracted). asmo carries him to his private bathroom and lets belphie pick his favorite soaps and lotions (he likes the ones that smell like sandalwood, they remind him of taking naps in his brothers’ rooms).

#obey me #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

2K notes · View notes

psychwxrdd · 4 months

Note

i can't stop thinking about rafe being all head over heels for kook! reader and she doesn't give a damn about him and loves jj 😭 could be a dark rafe too omg

You.

(gif is not mine!)

🎀 - 18+, dark! rafe x kook! reader, jj x reader, stalker! rafe, possessive! rafe, obsessive! rafe (tbh i feel like it's all just normal rafe lmao) blackmail, gaslighting, gun use, smut, rafe is really unhinged, dub con. work and college are draining the life out of me so i didn't had time to see if there's any mistake :(( already apologizing for anything babes

rafe loses his shit when he finds out you're dating jj.

It wasn't fucking fair. A filthy pogue getting his way to your pants and your heart? When he tried to have you his whole life? He was furious.

Rafe's mind was a mess, thoughts racing, bad thoughts. He wanted to kill someone, take his anger out in any way... How could you do this to him?

You both knew each other since childhood, and Rafe is in love with you ever since. Some hook ups here and there, but nothing serious, just for one night stand. You were the one he always loved, always pictured when he had anyone else on his arms, he loved you so much it phisically hurted him. You were trully the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, and that would never change. No one could compare to you in the slightest.

Of course, he wasn't the only one. As if it wasn't enough that you're just the most gorgeous girl to ever exist, you're also sweet, funny, kind, smart... Always being nice to everyone, making friends everywhere. You were even friends with the ones from the dirty side of the island. Who could ever resist you?

But Rafe was also so cocky, even with your constant polite rejections, he knew who he was. He thought you would eventually throw yourself on his arms, he had so many ideas in mind. He always thought that in the end, you would be his girl, and you would both be the kook king and queen, that he would work while you're his little sweet housewife, waiting for him with open arms (and legs) at home. He spent hours thinking about you, about how much he wanted to carry you on his arms, just hug and kiss you, hold your hands. He would die for a simple touch. He wanted to know about your thoughts, things you never told anyone before... He wanted you to be his princess, his doll, only his forever.

He was always showing up at your work - even being a kook and not needing the money, you wanted responsability. As kids, he would always follow you everywhere in school, and being the tough guy he always was, little rafe would be all other boys bully, if he saw they talking about you being their crush. Always rushing to pair up with you in class. Really clingy, but he always made you laugh. Rafe would always tell his parents and everyone that you would be his wife one day, but at the time, it was just cute.

As teenagers, he started to ask you out on dates, asking if you wanted to go to prom with him, or if you could kiss him as a "birthday gift". And thats when you first broke his heart with "I only see you as a friend." But Rafe wasn't one to give up easily.

Always doing everything to show you how no other boy could ever be better than him. He was from the richest family in Outer Banks, he could afford anything you wanted. He always gave you expensive gifts, anything you said you wanted, he would buy it. He wanted to impress you all the time, but it was meaningless to you. None of that could buy your heart, and that started to annoy you, but as you were always too nice to everyone and didn't knew how to say no or push people away, you simply was quiet about how uncomfortable that felt.

And now, as young adults, things only got worse. He was extremely pushy, or as he would say, proactive. Everyone knew better than to mess with him, it was no surprise that he was trouble, but as he grew up, he also grew to be more and more mentally ill.

Now, he just happened to find out you and JJ were officially together.

What a fucking slut. What a fucking ungrateful whore. He loved you first, you were his first! How could you love that stupid pogue instead? What does JJ have that he doesn't? He is way better, he could give you the world if you asked.

Rafe wouldn't take this shit, not now. He was tired of this. You were supposed to be his girl, that is how it will be, and now it no longer matter for him if you want it or not.

He sniffed the rest of the coke and went to his dirt bike, on his way to your house, not much far from his.

"Hey, Rafe" you said in a soft tone. His heart melted at the scene, he was mad, but boy does he love you. The minute you opened your door he could smell your sweet, heavenly scent. You looked just like an angel, he wanted nothing more than to just stare at you like a fool, a sight for sore eyes. But he had to do this.

"You fine?" Rafe asked, a cold tone.

"Yeah...Is everything ok? You need something?"

He sighed and looked down, licking his lips. You could see he was nervous. "Is anyone home?"

You frowned slightly at his question. Why did he wanted to know that?

"No, my parents are out for tonight."

As you were about to ask him why, he was quick to cover your mouth and drag you inside, shutting the door behind you. Your eyes were wide.

"Calm down, okay? I won-...i'm not gonna hurt you... okay?" He said, still manhandling you, while caressing your hair and placing it behind your ears. He gave your forehead a kiss.

"I have a problem, and i want to solve it tonight" he said closer to your ear, and he could see the fear in your eyes. That sight and being that close to you was enough to make him almost cum on his pants. "I don't think you wanna date that Maybank guy. He's gonna put you in trouble, and i don't wanna see you in dangerous...I love you too much for that, princess. I - i can't just watch you ruin your life and do nothing about it!"

Tears fell from your eyes. Rafe talking about someone else being troubled? That was a joke itself.

"And...I need you to know that" His own eyes were tearing up now "That i much rather kill myself than see you with him."

You froze at him. You tap his hands, trying to let him know that you wanted to say something, but he didn't cared.

He put his hands on his pocket, and you were now a crying mess. His gun were now so close to your body, closer than you would ever want to stand from a gun.

You started to scream his name beneath his hand and thats when he let go of your mouth. "Rafe, please, lets talk about it!" you sounded desperated.

"Talk about what, y/n? Huh? My whole life, i have fucking loved you my whole life, and now you wanna talk? Bullshit" He shouted, his face red from anger. But his eyes were still full of tears.

"I- i...Rafe, please...I can..." You were lost, completely, what you were supposed to do? Break up with the one you loved to avoid someone's death? And then dating him instead? This was so fucked up. You felt like you would faint at any second.

He pointed the gun to his head, and thats when you acted from pure despair.

Almost jumping against him and giving him a hard kiss. His eyes went wide, but it didn't took long for him to kiss you back, much harder. He almost moaned at the feeling. Something he wanted so bad, for so long. You.

The expression on his face was almost like he was having an orgasm. He held you tightly, so tight you thought he would break at least one bone. As horrible as the whole situation was, he was a good kisser, you hated that you even thought that. But it was true.

Maybe it was just a survival instinct, but the way he knew how to kiss and hold you really turned you on.

You broke the kiss, quickly, and held his face. "Please, put the gun on the floor, Rafe"

His eyes were shining... He wouldn't deny you anything now. He placed on the floor.

"I will break up with JJ...ok?" You said, your voice breaking at how much your own words hurted you. It was so sick, you loved him more than anything. You couldn't imagine your life without him. Would he ever forgive you? You were sure that he wouldn't.

More and more tears felt from your eyes, while Rafe was smilling hard like a kid. "You don't know how much i waited for this, doll. But i want to make sure you're really gonna do this."

You were rolling your eyes, moaning as loud as it was possible, while Rafe was fucking you hard in missionary. He was so deep inside you, you felt like cumming harder than ever. But you didn't really wanted this, tho your body was enjoying it a lot. Your heart felt broken.

"Hi babe, you ok?" JJ asked on the phone, and hearing his voice made you cry again. You were now a mix of crying and moans. "Whats going on sweetheart? You're crying? Whats it?"

Rafe held your phone with a sick smile on his face, he couldn't control his groans as he held your neck with other hand. Finally being able to fuck you after so long... You had to reward him. You had to let him cum inside you, fuck you for hours, use you for how long he wanted. For all the countless times he jerked off thinking about you, all the times he fucked someone else picturing you instead. This was fucking paradise for him. He was sure you would end this night either pregnant, or with your whole pink girly room full with his cum everywhere.

"What the fuck is this?" JJ yelled, and you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so Rafe did instead.

"She is dumping your ass, pogue. She is mine now."

#dark rafe cameron x reader #obsessive love #possessive #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #dark fanfiction

438 notes · View notes

mountswhore · 5 months

Note

Hey if it's okay then I want to request a pregnancy fic where y/n has been having a hard time dealing with the changes during pregnancy and Mason is helping her out in every way he can. Thank you x

my beautiful girl — mason mount

summary: you were four months along, finally starting to show and yet you were still struggling with the changes you were going through. mason decides to help in any way he can.

After the hell that was the first trimester, you thought you were in the clear. With morning sickness subsiding, you realised it was just making way for more pesky symptoms.

You were four months along now, Mason still elated his beloved child was on the way. As were you, but Mason doesn't need to carry the child for nine months, nor does he need to experience anything you were currently experiencing.

It was still hell on Earth.

Mason's arm slid around your stomach, finally resting below the forming bump. You could practically hear his smile as he pulled you into him, his warm breath coating the revealed skin on your shoulder. Today was the day you were finding out the sex of your baby, and you couldn't wait.

"How did you sleep?" Mason asked quietly, the question was a frequent one, considering you couldn't sleep much over the past three months of pregnancy.

You hummed in response. "It was okay."

Mason was downstairs making you a peppermint tea and himself some breakfast, whilst you took to showering. The hot water felt good, too good, so the shower wasn't long. Unfortunately, Mason's massive bathroom mirror was a curse to you. Even whilst steamed up, you could see yourself and your body.

You tried to be grateful, to be so glad you were able to carry this child, as a lot of women struggle to do so and would kill to be in your position. But your body was changing, and you had terrible self esteem since gaining the stretch marks. You felt so unlike yourself, the feeling mostly being down to how different life had been since becoming pregnant.

The baby wasn't planned, is any child planned? You'd spoken about children in the past with Mason, and you'd both agreed you felt ready for whenever it was going to happen. And a year or so later, here you were.

"Hey." Mason appeared in the bathroom, mug in hand and a concerned look on his face. "What're you thinking about?"

You grabbed the mug and passed him to put it onto your dresser. "Nothing."

Mason knew that was a lie. Instead of saying anything, he sat you down on the bed and crouched between your legs. Still adorned in only a towel, you pulled it over as much skin as you could. Mason knew exactly what this was about, as you'd discussed it at the start of the first trimester. You were crying, you didn't know whether it was good or bad, so Mason calmed you down with making a list. Eventually, you had decided the baby was a good thing, the only cons being about how you'd look and how your body would react to carrying and birthing a child, which you seemed hesitant over.

"You," he spoke, kissing your lips firmly with his hands either side of your head, "are beautiful. I know what's going on in your brain, and I'm telling you it's okay to feel that way. Everyone struggles with their body, but you need to remember you're doing something amazing. You're carrying our child, you're making sure she grows like she should and you're looking after her until she's ready for us."

"She?" You giggled, tears sliding down your face.

"I'm hoping for a girl," he responded, "but anyway, you look amazing. You're doing amazing. I know I'd struggle doing what you're doing, but I'm so thankful every day I wake up and see that bump. It will all be worth it when the baby is born."

He was right, you knew he was. All you needed was that reassurance that you haven't lost your life to pregnancy. You're still the same person before, but you're growing a baby, too.

"You will always be my beautiful girl, nothing and nobody will ever compare to you." Mason spoke, his voice quiet as he held your gaze. You smiled, grateful for the kind words he'd said.

"Let's find out what we're having then," you breathed out, standing from your position on the bed and strolling towards your closet. "I hope it's a girl, too." You admitted, peering from around the door at Mason.

His cheeks turned pink, reaching out to stroke your arm before he left you to dress.

You were sat in the waiting room, surrounded by mothers to be. All at different stages in their pregnancy. You were grateful to have Mason come with you today, his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. He was scrolling on his phone, and you occasionally looked down to see what he was laughing at, but for the most pat you were looking around and hoping the doctor would call your name.

Finally, you thought, as you'd heard your name and stood up with Mason's support.

The appointment was a blur, it was mainly just telling the doctor how you were coming along and you were in your head for most of it, Mason taking control of the social side of today.

You were abruptly pulled from your thoughts once the cold gel had hit your stomach, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Mason chuckled and squeezed your hand, and you couldn't help but return the smile. He was so excited, he'd been looking forward to this for so long.

"Did you want to find out the sex today? Or were you wanting it to be sent to a member of family?" The doctor questioned, and you looked at Mason. Neither of you wanted a gender reveal, it wasn't appealing to you at all. You just wanted to know, so you could tell family the good news.

"We just want to find out today, if that's okay." You answered.

The doctor rotated the screen so both you and Mason could see. It was just a blur to the both of you, you had no clue what you were looking at.

"So," the doctor pointed at certain parts of the screen, "it's a very healthy baby girl."

Mason cheered, kissing your cheek and thanking the doctor for the confirmation. You were both ecstatic to be having the baby girl you'd hoped for. You were mainly glad for the healthy part, you weren't as biased as Mason was. You felt like you were doing something right, your body was handling it well, and in the end it felt worth it. It wasn't long until you'd be holding that healthy baby girl in your arms, and even if it was long, painful hours or labour, it would all be worth it.

#mase #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fluff

304 notes · View notes

hinakazino · 11 months

Text

Tobi’s Sister? || Akatsuki w/ child!reader

Summary: You’re tobi’s sister, that’s it. You may also be the one the Akatsuki love most.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of angst.

Inspired by this piece: uchihas w/ sister!reader.

You were the last Uchiha ever born, as in you were born a little over a year before the Uchiha Clan Massacre. Obito had known about your presence as it was no secret when a new member was arriving.

Although it was traditional to keep quiet about it until around the 2nd semester out of worry for stressing out the mother. He still found out anyway, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Your arrival was a heartwarming moment. Your mother was very happy for you filled up her heart. Her heart which was dull, was now filled with hope, from the previous loss of her son, him.

It was unfortunate then, that not long after having you that she had gone. That the whole clan had gone, except for you and Sasuke. Obito had debated on your worth but ultimately he chose to keep you and Madara didn't seem to be against it.

Madara himself hearing that he had a little sister had simply said that "we should at least leave out some hope for our clan". So, on the night of the Uchiha massacre you were taken to a secret location, death faked.

From that point on, Obito had raised you on his own and he soon found that you were his love. You were so sweet and adorable, he didn't want anything happening to you. When you came he swore no feelings towards you, yet now you are his weakness.

It wasn't like Obito hid his face from you either, but he knew that he had to keep his plan foolproof so he never told you his real name, sticking to Tobi/big brother. He'd save that revelation for when you were much older.

By the age of 3, you were a healthy toddler who was energetic and intelligent. You picked up things quicker than others, such as walking and talking. Although you weren't a professional you could communicate what you wanted. It was at this age that Obito introduced you to the Akatsuki. Most of the members were surprised by this. Not really by the point that Tobi had this child with him who he had a brotherly relationship with, but more so the point that Pain actually allowed you into the organization.

By the age of 4 you had gotten used to your environment, you were an energetic child. Tobi was personally worried about how the Akatsuki would treat you but nothing bad came out of it. You were given all you needed and treated with the utmost respect.

It was honestly laughable, how the akatsuki. The most powerful criminal organization, dawned in their signature black, red cloud cloaks had this small child. In her small puffy dress running around.

The truth was that not all of the akatsuki knew you personally, they knew you exist but not all have met you. It was decided that you'd be with the main group.

Pain was at a loss of words, truly, when you were introduced into the equation. He knew right away that you were definitely an uchiha and that you had quite a strong bond with Tobi (for him, "Madara").

But it seemed that out of all things Tobi sincerely meant everything he said about you. He had even cited how Pain and Konan wanted to create a place where children could be happy, "a place I hope she'll be," he said while cradling your sleeping form.

So, Pain ultimately did let you in but not without stating his own terms. Handling a child was not at all easy and if you were to stay with them. You should at least be trained to an extent where you were useful.

After all, the organization doesn’t want any people who’d slow them down. At least, that was the original reason, deep down Pain did feel the need to protect you.

Ultimately a plan was devised, they’d take care of you, teach you, and train you. The more difficult things could be dealt with later on. So, a teaching plan was developed for you when you became apart of the Akatsuki.

Kakuzu had known of your arrival long before any of the other members. As previously Pain had consulted him on this as part of the budget would be put towards taking care of you. This, greatly annoyed Kakuzu.

Kakuzu didn't understand why Pain even cared about you to this extent. He saw this as wasted money, baby formula and diapers weren't cheap. But thankfully, he didn't have to worry about that because by the time you were established as a member you didn't need that anymore.

He eventually didn't mind you at all as you weren't that big of an annoyance. You weren't that interested in him at first. Eventually though due to Pains plan Kakuzu would have to teach you mathematics.

A class, which, to your dismay and Kakuzu's you disliked. Nonetheless he was at least grateful you absorbed knowledge and was quite shocked whenever you'd join into his money-speaking conversations with Hidan.

Hidan was one of the most shocked members, "oh I wonder how strong she is!" he had said. Then when your small form peaked out from behind Tobi, Konan had to reminded him that you were just a child.

Hidan got along with you easily though, and it was no secret the rest of the members enjoyed the "tea parties" you'd host with him and Deidara. Hidan greatly enjoyed your innocence to the world.

Especially your reaction to new things. He remembers laughing so hard when he had you try french fries for the first time, or when you'd seen a shooting star for the first time. He made sure of course, to tell you to make a wish. He really enjoyed your company.

Despite this, Hidan wasn't given an educational role but more so a babysitter rule. It wasn't ideal but he was like a guard for you, since he enjoyed your company he was tasked with keeping an eye on you most of the time.

Deidara reacted exactly like Hidan had, he didn't expect you to be a kid though honestly! When he first saw you he honestly thought you were quite cute. You were so chubby and soft, he loved whenever he'd come back from a long mission. You'd run and hug him!

It was even better when Hidan and him would compete for who you'd hug first. However most of the time you wouldn't choose or just run to Konan instead.

Deidara, unlike Hidan, although being assigned to watch over you partly also was your art teacher. Deidara was not allowed to use explosions at all with you, this was strictly forbidden by Pain and more so by Tobi. Not like he would though after seeing how easily you could get injured. You had merely fell but it'd left you with two bleeding knees that healed fast thankfully since you were still young, but had scared you for awhile. It hurt Deidara to witness that, who would enjoy that anyway?

He mainly just has you make sculptures with him, and it isn't like he hates doing other things besides sculptures. So besides his tendency to destroy things in "the name of art" he really doesn't do that with you also because you had cried once. That was when he realized you were more of a collection person.

Sasori hadn’t given any reaction at all when you’d arrived. He saw it like this, as long as you didn’t disturb him he wouldn’t you. However, it seems like Pain had other plans.

As you technically had to be taught besides being taken care of. It turns out that Sasori had been chosen to be your science teacher. He wasn’t particularly fond of this idea as a child such as you seemed quite dumb, no?

Well he was wrong about you being dumb because you were quite intelligent for your age, but not obedient. Sasori was a man who’d get the job done though so he found a way around your constant moving. It didn't take a genius to figure out kids were active.

He was actually starting to enjoy teaching you then, as you were always excited when he said he had something new for you. You absorbed knowledge from him and always praised him. This stroked his ego a lot.

He was especially impressed at your reaction to his puppets. You’d let out the loudest squeal he’d ever heard and hadn’t even realized it was a puppet. You reminded him of when he was young, and it made him get closer to you.

Itachi had just accepted your presence, although your age shocked him a bit. He was technically considered young himself when he had joined the Akatsuki, and besides he'd seen much worse.

At first, he didn't know how to interact with you but introductions were said and done with Pain's assignment for him. Itachi was to be your actual babysitter, he got you ready for meals, helped dress you, and more.

Pain knew out of everyone here Itachi was kind with kids and knew how to be responsible. Which is why Itachi is your Nanny, always reminding you of naps, rest, and shower time.

It was a bit debated whether it would be Konan or Itachi but Konan was normally rather busy and Itachi had swore to Tobi no harm would come to you. He wasn't one to break promises either. Itachi tried to not become attached to you emotionally but clearly failed. He didn't want to lose another person, or worst comes to worst, be the one to take out that said person. He wasn't an idiot, he knew you were an Uchiha from the moment he laid eyes on you. It was the most shocking of all in your first meeting. He couldn't help feeling grateful in the end however, to know that at least one person was spared from the massacre. This was soon combined with a feeling of guilt though as he knew you were entangled in much more now, he vowed he'd protect you if he could, just like Sasuke.

Eventually, you had come to love Itachi just like a brother, he gave you a sense of familiarity and was super gentle. The same could be said for Itachi, who now saw Sasuke in you.

Kisame was quite amused when you'd joined the Akatsuki. Wouldn't it be rather fun for people to hear of this? Well, either way he thought you'd be scared of him on your first meeting.

Turns out you weren't in the least, you were really curious about him too. When you'd first met your hands had touched his face all over, but what made you love him the most was how high he could lift you.

This was when Kisame first learned just how much kids loved to be tossed around (gently) and he always made sure to lower his strength around you. He actually was quite entertained with you, not as bored as he’d thought.

He was assigned to be your swim teacher, expected really. He began teaching you right away and quickly caught onto your fear of the deep water. Not to fear though because Tobi was there watching your first couple lessons and Kisame controlled the waters to prevent any harm.

He did his best to make the waters seem calm and fun. Whenever he could he’d take you to the beach or a lake. Sometimes Itachi would even tag along with you two as he watched Kisame swim out with you.

Kisame felt proud knowing you were learning quickly. He had bragged about it once to Hidan and Deidara too. They had called him soft towards you but it wasn’t necessarily a lie.

Konan lastly, was your Language/Biology teacher, she came around more often after you came into the equation. You were so adorable in her eyes and she loved whenever you’d run into her arms.

Konan loved your squishy chubby cheeks, most of all your cute voice when you called her name. She was assigned as your biology teacher for obvious reasons. Although this is a more later role she would help you through puberty and such.

She was also your language teacher, helping you learn the characters and to read. Enjoying the fun moment she’d have with you on her lap reading along. You were a kind presence in her world, a reminder of what she hopes to work towards.

Konan is happy to take care of you and you view her much like an older sister. She teaches you so much, and is a very encouraging person. Helping you gain new experiences and also protecting you as much as she can.

#naruto #anime #Itachi x reader #Akatsuki #Akatsuki x reader #Pain x reader #Konan x reader #Kisame x reader #Kakuzu x reader #Deidara x reader #Hidan x reader #Tobi/Obito x reader #Naruto x reader #Child!Reader

817 notes · View notes

l1tw1ck · 9 months

Note

Otherwise I'd have something more simple (?) for headcanons.

Imagine Kazuha, Ayato, Kaveh and Cyno as rapists/creeps. What would their go-to methods to prey on their victim be? As in, do they just pounce on sight, stalk them for a while or manipulate them?

(Idk how that works with requesting headcanons, I randomly picked these four, but if you have ideas for another character or only one of them, I'd like to hear them too, but you can also just... Ignore this, if this is bullshit)

-⛩️

Inside the Brain of a Creeper (not a minecraft reference)

bottom: Kaveh, Cyno, Kazuha, Ayato x top!gn reader

CW: Non-Con, Stalking, Just overall dark stuff

Kaveh

tw: non-con, manipulation, drugging, stockholm syndrome

♡ He would definitely go for the manipulation route and use his charms to woo you

♡ He'd get you comfortable with him and make sure you see only the best parts of him

♡ He plans to make you only have eyes for him. And by that, he means that he wants to be the only person you ever see

♡ He'll shower you with all the love he has, which is a lot, and make you fall for him

♡ Then, he'll invite you over to his house for dinner. He did a lot of not so great things to get his own house. He couldn't pull this off with Al Haitham as his roomate

♡ Unbeknownst to you, he drugged your food

♡ Once you pass out, he'll take you down to the basement and tie you up

♡ He'll keep you drugged constantly so your brain is more susceptible to his manipulation

♡ He'll whisper sweet words into your ear as he uses your body

♡ With the way he treats you, it's impossible for you to see him as a bad person

♡ And once you finally accept him and your new life, he'll allow you access to the rest of the house. You deserve to experience it, he bought it for you after all

"I love you." Kaveh sits on your lap, peppering you with kisses. You look at him hazily. You're barely there. You don't even remember your life before all this. "I love you too.." You murmur.

Cyno

cw: non-con, yandere, stalking

♡ He would stalk you, learn your routines, your schedule, your likes, your dislikes, etc. He'll learn everything he needs to know before approaching you

♡ Of course he'll occasionally visit you while you're gone or asleep. He might watch you sleep, give you oral, or masturbate to the sound of your heart beating

♡ He'll convince you that you coincidentally met someone who's practically your other half, someone who likes everything you like

♡ You'll grow to like him platonically and trust him. You'd never suspect that he'd do anything to you

♡ He'll weed out anybody who he deems a threat to you or your relationship. Anyone who crushes on you will be crushed

♡ He'll even steal your phone and distance you from all your friends so the only person you talk to is him

♡ Since your friends have mysteriously started to ghost you, you decided to spend more time with Cyno

♡ It's hard for him to keep his composure when he's around you. It's just so nice to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and smell you.

♡ After a while, everyone turned against the two of you. It became you and Cyno against the world, at least that's what he says

♡ You ended up falling for him. He's the only person who sees you for you and with the increased amount of closeness between you two, it was inevitable

♡ Once you confess, Cyno can't hold back anymore. He kisses you and strips you without even asking for permission. he doesn't listen to a word you say, he doesn't care if you want it or not. He's waited so long and now that you love him, there's nothing stopping him from doing this

"I love you too." Cyno grins. His expression gives you chills. You feel like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. He spent a long time watching you and he's finally taking his meal. He's so much stronger than you, you can't escape. You just have to let it happen.

Ayato

cw: non-con, oral, asphyxiation, abuse

♡ He fell for you at first sight and knew he had to have you. He was willing to do anything to get you

♡ He ruined your life. He fired you from your job and prevented you from getting any work. You had no one to turn to and he took advantage of that

♡ He offered you a job and you were so desperate that you agreed without question

♡ You thought everything would get better for you from then on. He allowed you to move into the estate since you lost your apartment and the pay was amazing

♡ He tricked you into thinking you were going to be his personal assistant. Little did you know, you wouldn't be assisting him with work

♡ He'd force you to eat him out and prevent you from moving away. You'd have to make him come twice in order to breathe again

♡ You'd become his stress reliever. His little toy to use as he pleases. Whatever he wants, you give it to him

♡ He loves having power over you and gets off on it.

♡ He likes to hurt you both physically and mentally. He'll slowly break your spirit and make you completely submissive

♡ He loves seeing the look of fear in your eyes when you do something he doesn't like. The expressions you make are almost enough to stop him from punishing you. Almost

Ayato tightens his grip around your throat. You slap his wrists desperately, rapidly losing air. "Beg for it." He grins. "Ple- please-" You struggle to speak with your throat constricted. "Ayato- stop, please- please-" Tears fall down your cheeks. He lets go of your throat, allowing you to breathe again. "What do you say?"

"Thank you- thank you so much.."

Kazuha

cw: yandere, murder

♡ He likes to stalk you. He enjoys just watching you live your life from a distance and likes to borrow a few things of yours from time to time

♡ He used to be content with just "watching over you" but then you decided to start looking for a partner

♡ He couldn't handle the idea of you loving, touching, and especially fucking someone other than him. He can't let anyone take you away from him

♡ He managed to steal your phone and figure out the password you use for your dating app. Whenever you plan to meet up with someone, they end up dead before the date

♡ You thought you kept getting stood up or ghosted and eventually gave up on it all

♡ After that, Kazuha decided he needed to claim you

♡ He'd sneak into your room while you're fast asleep and very slowly remove your clothes. He'd take a moment to admire you first since he's never seen you naked up close

♡ Then he'd finally do it. He'd kiss you and finally learn how the inside of your mouth feels. He could probably get off just by tongue kissing you

♡ And once he's semi satisfied with kissing you, he'd get naked as well and finally have sex with the love of his life

♡ On an inconsistent schedule, Kazuha would come and try out all the things he wanted to do with you. Of course some things require your consent but he'll get that to happen eventually

♡ You'd never be able to identify him and no matter how hard you try to prevent him from seeing you again, he'd always find a way to break in

♡ At some point you just gave in and let it happen. It felt good and it's not like he was going to hurt you anyway

♡ The look on Kazuha's face was almost creepy when you finally stopped fighting him

♡ A few nights after that, he decided to sleepover instead of leave like he always does. He hugged you as the two of you fell asleep and you even let him make you breakfast

♡ You're not sure why, but there's something stopping you from reporting him to the police

♡ You don't really know how it all happened but you ended up dating and Kazuha moved in with you

You wake up to Kazuha masturbating on top of your previously sleeping body. The look on his face sends chills down your spine. Even despite all you've been through with him, you're still scared of him. At least to a degree. It's clear he'd never hurt you but god the things he does are terrifying

#wicks🕯shorts #genshin x reader #dark content #tw noncon #tw stalking #kazuha x reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere #ayato smut #ayato x reader #kazuha smut #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #cyno x reader #cyno smut

521 notes · View notes

huffelpuff210 · 2 months

Text

Only Mine Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Only Mine

Dark Professor Steve Rogers x Innocent Reader

Warning: Dark Themes,Age Gap, Forced relationship, drugging kidnapping, Grooming, Stalking, Non Con

Steve was bored and tired it’s always the same thing, Students come in here to achieve, but just end up flunking his class, He was a history professor, And most students come in here thinking it will be easy, since it’s History and end up disappointing him as usual,

He knew he was being a little too harsh, and He knew that he was missing something in his life that’s why he was so miserable and so harsh on his students, but he knew that he had to find something and outlet or someone, someone to make him happy someone who wouldn’t disappoint him like everyone did. These girls today are just so self absorbed and whore around it’s nothing like before he got frozen in ice, after the serum, and now being retired from the avengers.

He was looking down at his papers grading them, when he saw something he hasn’t before, your name, you have every answer right, an ‘A’

Steve smirked knowing that someone was paying attention, You just transferred here from Colorado and this isn’t the first Ease you got an ‘A’ on either Steve has taken notice to you and you payed attention taking notes, watching closely.

Steve had taken notice to you, and he had one more test for you and then he would make his decision.

You had you bag hanging on your shoulder as you walked to class with your roommate you were just entering Professor Rogers class room, she was laughing,

“It’s not funny.” You say

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” Jessica says wiping the tears away,

“Your a nineteen year old virgin.” She says

“I told you I’m saving myself!” You yell

As you sit down

“Okay class settle down.” Professor Rogers says as he starts handing everyone’s work, out your paper was and ‘A’ you were so glad, since you studied your ass off and went over all the notes you could to get a perfect score, You let out a breath of relief so happy that you got a great score,

Jessica slams her forehead on her desk You look over at her she holds up her paper that says ‘D-’

“Told you. You should have studied instead of going to bakers party.” you say

“Oh shut it nerd!” She says

You chuckle, After taking diligent notes and sitting through an hour lecture you and Jessica were leaving class chatting to one another little did you know Steve was following close behind you two, listening closely to your conversation,

“God how do you always get ‘A’s’!?” Your friend complains

“Because I study my butt off unlike you. Who decides to go party.” You say with a chuckle

“So I like to have a bit of fun sue me why don’t you.” She says

You laugh,

“You’re too much of a good girl.” She complains

“Well that’s what happens when you have a Military father.” You chuckle Steve smirks, feeling a bit turned on. as the two of you walk

You two walk towards the coffee shop

Steve knew right then and there that you were perfect for him that you were going to be his girl no matter what, He knew he had to be careful on how he did this, he also knew he had to get you away from your roommate she was a bad influence on you, He also knew that you would make the perfect wife and mother, That’s all Steve ever wanted was a perfect family with the perfect woman,

Sure you were young but that’s what made it perfect, You could bare many children, you were a quick learner meaning he could train you,

He smirked at the thought, He had been looking for so long not finding the perfect woman but now it seems that dream is just within grasp.

“Do you want to go to a party tomorrow night before spring break?” Steve’s attention was caught by your friend asking you,

You hesitate

Steve knew you were a good girl, but if you accepted he knew it would be the perfect opportunity

“I don’t know I still need to study.” You say

“Oh come on live a little bit.” Your friend says

You sigh

“Fine, but only for a few minutes, I need to study for my next midterm.” You say

“Yeah, Yeah, the good girl can’t have fun.” She says

You chuckle grabbing your coffee as the two of you leave Steve smirks knowing he had to plan this just right that you were going to be his girl, Spring break will be in two days, meaning, This is perfect And he knew he had to prepare before tomorrow night.

#dark professor Steve Rogers #Steve rogers x innocent reader #dark avengers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers fic #obsessive steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #dark marvel #marvel #avengers fic

163 notes · View notes

ollieink · 7 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃!

childe x fem!reader ( wc 4.8k)

inspired by 'pretty poison' written by the very talented vent1k1n on ao3, literally so good. never thought strip russian roulette could be so smeggsy wtf.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | dead dove: do not eat, non-con, rough sex, size difference, bit of gunplay, spitting, forced orgasm, corruption, yandere undertones, threats of murder, childe is a menace, reader has a petite body, dash of angst, russian roulette, mafia alternate universe, betrayal, please don't read if you're not comfy with these themes.

"Tartaglia is heartless."

That's what papa's soldiers said after he asked for your hand in marriage. It was a way for both ruling families to finally come to terms. Some were against it, others hopeful. And you had to admit, Tartaglia was hypnotizing. You saw him from afar one time, two times, a couple of times—from across the bridge that separated papa’s territory from his. He was the ocean come alive, all the good and all the bad. When he crossed that bridge to meet you, everything people warned you about him burnt to the ground.

Your chest fluttered on the wedding night, but it wasn't what you thought or hoped it would be. Tartaglia merely wished you a good rest before departing to his room. Of course, this wasn't a marriage of love ( you'd gotten carried away in your fantasies ), but rather a strategic move on both mafia families. Even then, the painful sprout of thorns in your chest didn't go unnoticed. Maybe it did for him. Or perhaps he did notice and just didn't care.

Papa didn't want you seeing all the bad things he did, so violence was a thing that happened from a distance. It was the same with Tartaglia. He'd tell you to go to your room when his men came in for a meeting, reassure you everything was okay—that you didn't need to worry your pretty head off. Perhaps he truly cared about you ( even if it wasn't the starstruck love you hoped it to be ), and that fleeting period in your life was the happiest. That is until you peeked into the basement of his manor, and a pair of dead blue eyes looked back.

You’re not supposed to cry over a stupid boy.

The sky has given way for a thunderous storm. Loud cracks of thunder light up the city, matching your heart's ferocious churning as you think over and over again: why, why, why? It pours rain as you pound on various doors for refuge, but everyone knows better than to open them at this hour. Crossing the bridge is a death sentence; Tartaglia’s men are stationed there, and they'd surely capture you on sight.

Afraid that he’ll catch up, you run into the city’s emptiest corner—an unsuspecting alleyway where the city lights can't reach. There’s nothing but rubbish here: overflowing dumpsters, shattered alcohol bottles someone must've thrown in a drunk daze, vulgar graffiti on the walls. Buildings tower overhead, placed so close together only a few people can walk through at the same time. The path winds 'round and 'round. You aren't sure where you're going, as long as you get away from here.

More lightning cuts through the pouring sky, and amidst it, a sweet voice calls out for you.

“Darling~”

All the hairs on your body stand, and you run faster than ever before. He's still using that sickening term, as if you really do hold a special place in his heart. Even if it wasn't real, you were content being something he felt obligated to take care of—because you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered when his hand tightened over yours, how he looked standing bare feet in the ocean shoreline. And you were happy being just an afterthought to him. But this is too cruel for you.

"Come back to me, darling. I'm sorry if I scared you."

His footsteps are getting closer and closer.

The alley takes a quick turn, and what you see next crushes all hope of getting away. A wall.

No, no no no no.

There must be another way out, but everywhere you look is a dead end. When the heavy footsteps finally stop a few meters away, you turn around. With a violent crackle of thunder, light briefly fills the alley; it barely makes a dent in Ajax's dark blue eyes. The electric crashes through the sky reflect off the taut muscles—wet with rain—on his arms. His black shirt, soaked all the way through, clings tightly to indents of hard flesh on his torso. And a smile haunts his face, kind like you remember.

"Why are you running away from me?" Ajax takes a step closer and reaches out a tempting hand. It's his left one, and the two rings on it are evidence of your weak union. "Let's go home, my love." He beckons in that familiar, gentle tone he only used with you. It made you feel special, but now you know it's just a trick.

“Bastard!” You scream with all the broken pieces of your heart. “You were just using me! I saw what you did to my father’s men in your basement, what you said about killing me! It’s a low move, you know—to murder someone in their sleep.”

Your words stir a devilish grin from him, and all traces of sweet, sweet Ajax disappear in an instant. "Ah, so you heard that too." He steps closer again, and the cobblestone wall hits your back. "It's a shame, ya know. If you weren't so nosy, I would've let you alive for a bit longer. Maybe we could've had our first kiss on the lips too, hmm? Bet you would've liked that. I know I would—you were always so kind to me. A bit too kind."

"Get away from me! If papa finds out about this, he'll kill you!" you scowl, hoping to get some leverage over this situation. But Tartgalia is a proud man. He simply laughs, as if you're a child throwing a silly tantrum.

"Well, he isn't here right now is he? It's just you and me." As his hand lifts, a flash of lightning exposes a revolver nestled against his palm.

"Ajax. . . ?"

Even his name sounds unfamiliar. The remaining bits and pieces of your heart break, not instantly, but in a way that hurts much more—slow and agonizing, holding onto hope that you know doesn't exist.

Blue eyes sweep up your body, savoring your disheveled appearance under this stormy night. Your plush thighs look so squeezable, and oh, that teeny tiny waist that's just begging to be held down.

“Let’s play a little game. It'll be fun."

Despite his voice sounding playful, the cold smile twisting his mouth wrecks shivers through you. He opens the gun to reveal six bullets settled ominously inside. “Each piece of clothing you take off, I’ll get rid one bullet. You have ten minutes before I pull the trigger, darling. Let's see if you're alive then. And if you are, I'll let you go. Promise." He chuckles at the way your eyes widen fearfully; it’s just too adorable. “Go on, I’m waiting.”

There's no way you're going to listen to him. He already messed with you enough—from the wedding vows, the delicate cheek kisses, and late-night strolls along the beach. All of it was just a pretend game for him, and the thought boils your blood just as much as it hurts.

“That game's stupid. I’m not doing anything for you."

“So, you’re gonna play tough, eh?” Tartaglia hums, unbothered by your disobliging attitude. In fact, the smirk on his face gives you the impression that he enjoys it. He points the revolver aside, and with a spark, fires it. A shrill noise reverberates through the cramped alleyway, and you jolt as the bullet whizzes past your cheek. “I won’t miss next time.”

Angry tears sting the corner of your eyes. “You’re fucking disgusting."

"You have ten minutes, sweetie. Or would you rather just let me end it all for you right now? I promise it won't hurt." There's a slight pause, then Childe's grin widens even more. "Or perhaps you want to spend your last moments as husband and wife? I know we never got the chance to be really intimate."

He'll shoot you if you try to run. For a split second, you consider trying to reason with him. Maybe he really did feel something—even if it was the most empty-minded feeling that ever crossed his cold heart. But that hopeful thought quickly vanishes. Ajax doesn't exist. He never did.

Finally, with a long exhale, you hesitatingly begin to slip off one heel.

“Mmm, good girl.” He takes out one bullet, letting it clang against the floor and roll by your feet. His gaze feels sharp along, glued to every movement, every nook and cranny of your exposed skin. When you get the other heel off, Childe hums cheerfully and drops another bullet. Papa always told you to be brave, but you’re shaking uncontrollably under this heavy aura of death. Your fingers tremble as they loosen your dress, and when the ribbons slowly but surely come undone, all the silk cascades into a bundle of light pink. A slight sigh comes from Childe the moment your adorable, white undergarments are revealed—so untouched, so innocent. Your skin suddenly feels too uncomfortably tight under his heavily inspecting eyes.

Childe chuckles as you hug yourself ( to cover up and protect yourself from the stormy weather ). Seeing you like that—all vulnerable and small—it's just too cute. He lets go of another bullet, and it lands with a sharp ting.

"Come on, take it all off," he playfully orders.

It's a decision between pride or life—an easy option for most, but difficult when it ends up in your hands. "Go fuck yourself." When you make no effort to strip any more, merely scowling at him with dewy eyes, the blue-eyed man breaks into wild laughter.

“You’d rather die than let me see you naked? Ah, how cute, but. . .” He closes the metal cartridge, spins it, then lifts the gun back up to you. “I’d think twice if I were you.”

"If you lay a finger on me, papa won't let you get away!" you glare at him, but all it does is stir a snicker. Suddenly, Childe steps forward and kicks your knee out. You hit the floor coarse with wet dirt. “Hey—!” Tartaglia wastes no time listening to your protest. He carelessly turns you over with his shoe, then presses the underside of it onto your stomach—a sharp contrast to the way he always treated you like glass. It was that side of him you learned to love, not the heartless man everyone viewed him as. Perhaps if you'd been smarter, you would've seen right through him. How love is but a fool's game to him. And how it was always his plan to use you.

A flash of thunder lights up the sky behind him, and the rain falls harder.

Your face contorts with rage. “Fuck you!"

“Quite the dirty mouth for such a sweet girl," Childe coos, kneeling down to harshly grab your chin. "Haha, you look so cute when your cheeks are all pushed up like that."

He leans in, and suddenly, a pair of lips capture yours—sweet and creamy as if he just finished a glass of honey. His tongue breaks into the wet cavern of your mouth, exploring the darkest corners. You feel the metal of his piercing, how it presses against your tongue. Each groan he makes resonates deep within your chest. Determined to resist in any way you can, you bite down hard enough to split open his bottom lip.

Tartaglia jerks back with surprised laughter, dragging his pierced tongue over the blood. "I always expected you'd like it rough, darling. But it's fine—I like it too." As if taking your defiance as a challenge, he curls his hand into the back of your hair, and with a harsh tug, smashes your lips together in a desperate frenzy.

"Mmph!" The sheer force of his kiss muffles your voice. He forcefully pushes down your jaw, giving him enough room to shove his slithering tongue inside again. Saliva trickles down into your throat, and his mouth hums against yours; it urges you to amuse him more. You refuse at first, but as his disgusting saliva builds up from just how sloppy the kiss is, you're forced to take tiny gulps, and those gulps soon turn into hesitant swallows.

After a long moment, he finally pulls back. “That’s right. Drink it up, filthy little thing.” In a fit of rage, you spit on his face, and he recoils to wipe it off his cheek. Instead of seeing anger on his face, there's nothing but the flushed look of unhinged amusement. He suddenly jams his gun into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden intrusion. He hovers a finger over the trigger with a smirk on his face. “Wanna try that again?”

Tears blur your vision, but they're quickly blinked away. You won't let him win. You won't let this bastard get the better of you.

"That's what I thought." Childe moves the gun to the side of your head, showing exactly who's in charge. His other hand settles upon your pelvis; it nearly folds across the entire width. "So tiny. . ." You flinch as his touch moves lower, caressing all the subtle curves and dips of your flesh. "Ever been this intimate with anyone, darling?" He plays with the band of your panties, letting it smack against your hip after every tug. The ginger coos, as if your reaction was somehow an answer—the way you tremble, the way you glare at him with such lovely flushed cheeks. "Mmm, guess not. But that makes it more exciting, right?"

He suddenly turns you around, easily jerking your limbs until you're sitting on his lap. His hand falls from your neck, between the valley of your breasts, then to your sensitive bundle of nerves. Thorns sprout from the pit of your stomach. It's tingly, prickly, threatening to swallow you whole from the inside out.

"Don't touch there!"

Tartaglia lets out a low chuckle, pushing the barrel of the gun carelessly against your jaw. "Stupid girl, don't you see what position you're in? I'll show you what a man can do to someone so weak." The pads of his fingers are rough, so embarrassingly intimate as one traces your slit. "First, I'm gonna put my cock in here." He slips a gloved finger inside, and you keen at the unfamiliar disturbance. Tiny hands grip onto him tighter, desperately searching for purchase with each scarlet mark it leaves on his skin. You want to scream at him until your throat bled, but all you can muster are pathetic little whimpers.

His voice dips lower, husky with sweet poison. "Then, I'm gonna fuck you like this." His finger slowly drags in, out, in, and out. Each movement is earth-shattering, something you've never experienced before. It renders you completely useless. And despite how much you try to fight it off,fs you're losing yourself to him—body squirming, hips bucking disgracefully against his gloved hand.

"Think you can handle the real thing, sweetheart?" Childe's teasing remark reduces you to a mess of shame and boiling hot anger. You want to tell him to shut up, but your teeth are gritting together to prevent any more noises from coming out ( you don't want to feed his bloated ego any more than this ). However, as he curls his finger and hits a sensitive wall of flesh inside you, an embarrassing mewl chimes from your throat. "Heh, this wet already with just one of my fingers. Didn't realize my wife was so slutty."

"Ah!" You pitifully claw against his shirt, squeezing your legs together to make the electrifying feeling stop. But Childe doesn't give you time to rest. He holsters his gun and forcefully spreads your thighs—smeared with wet dirt, gravel, and slick—before shoving in another finger. The added friction makes you kick your feet in protest. "Nghhh! No, st-sthawp, Ajax!"

Childe's ears perk up at how his name sounds along your pretty tongue. It was something he shared with you after a night of heavy drinking. He never planned to reveal it, but the alcohol influenced him more than he thought. And perhaps it was also because of the way you looked while basked in silver moonlight.

"I hate you!" With an infuriated shriek, you pound against his chest, but that only seems to rile him up even more. His fingers hit even harder, deeper, faster. "Agh! Mmmf, n-no. . . I hate, nghh, h-hate you!"

Tartaglia lets out a snicker. "But you look like you're loving what I'm doing to you. It's not good to lie, you know that, right?" The repulsive, sopping noises of him toying with your cunt mortifies you. There's some pain, pleasure, and an exhausting sense of weakness as you're unable to do anything but lay there. "If you come on my hand, I'm gonna have to punish you for lying~"

Your stomach coils up into a wad of throbbing nerves. The lack of control is terrifying, but you still try to be defiant. "I'm not, ah, going to—!" After a harsh thrust of his fingers, with a loud cry, your body releases all that tension onto his glove. Everything goes blank for a second as your chest heaves up and down. It's so dizzy, the world is spinning.

"Mmm, looks like you need to be taught a lesson on how to be a good girl." His fingers pull out with a squelch, going to unbuckle his belt. There's a very noticeable bulge in his pants. And when he wrenches the restrictive garment down, releasing his hard, massive, swollen cock, new profound terror seeps into your guts. He's planning to put that disgusting thing in you; the thought is horrifying. You try to scurry away, only for his toned arms to push you back down. "Don't run from me." With a smirk, Childe turns your little body around to face him. His weight presses against you, slowly until you're both on the ground. The rain hits his back, droplets rolling down his sharp jaw and onto your face. "This might be a bit rough on your tiny body."

Before you can comprehend his warning, he pulls your soaking wet panties to the side and snaps his hips forward. The painful disturbance makes you wail, your cramped insides trying to resist Childe's member with all its might. It burns. White hot, like a metal rod dipped in lava. For a second, your body shuts down, vision blacking out before startling back awake.

"N-No, hurts. . . 'Jax!"

He jerks his hips, forcing his big cock deeper.

You're gonna die. He's going to kill you.

"Tight—" he hisses, then sucks in a breath that shifts into laughter. He's enjoying it; the cold sweat dripping down your face, how you kick, whimper, your sensitive insides gripping him so intensely. "Hahaha! I can't fuck you stupid if you're gonna keep clenching down me like that." He's smiling, like this is all some kind of joke. However, when you suddenly squeeze even tighter around him, that attitude breaks a little. Teeth gritting hard, Childe buries his head into the shallow dip of your shoulder. He's holding you so close with shivering arms—you can almost confuse it with love. The tender kind you prayed for, something that consumes you whole as if passing through a cloud heavy with rain.

After composing himself, he finally lifts himself back up to look you in the eyes. His face is contorted into a look of pleasure: red cheeks, eyes sharp with wicked amusement. "Ghh. . . W-What did I just say?"

You squeak as he rolls his hips, slipping in a few more inches you didn't realize existed ( it already feels so full ). When he makes a small pump to adjust to the wet heat, your eyes squeeze shut at the throbbing pain. It's too big—the tip feels like it's going to tear through your cervix. But just as you think it's pushed all the way to the hilt, your eyes go wide as he forces in a few more inches inside.

"Ahhh!" You glance down, horror flooding your veins at the sight of there being more to take in. His cock stretches past your limits, making your stomach protrude a little with its shape. The filthy sight burns hot shame throughout you. He's really inside. Not wanting to look at it anymore, your eyes wander elsewhere, but Childe isn't merciful enough to give you that salvation. He takes your chin and forces it forward.

"Look at me."

It's cold enough to see his heavy breaths come out as wisps.

The ginger flutters his eyes, taking a moment to savor the feeling before he fucks you loose. “Such a needy hole for me. So tight, and so fucking warm." When his member draws out slightly, the glossy sheen covering his hard, veiny skin makes you dizzy.

“Let go of me!” you command him, holding back the hot tears brewing in your eyes. In an attempt to relieve the pain, you lift your hips off the hideous thing, but a strong hand grips your waist and jerks you back onto it.

“Mm, now what did I say about not running away?”

Childe pulls himself out to the tip.

Knowing what's coming next, you shout, "W-Wait!" A screech claws out of your chest as he slams back inside with a heavy, wet squelch. Searing pain unfurls inside your weak body, the excruciating thrust of his thick cock too much to handle. You tremble as he withdraws again, agonizingly slow as if to see what other cute reactions you're capable of making. "No, stop—!" He doesn't listen, chuckling as you scratch the muscular jut of his shoulder blades.

“Haah, fffuckk, that’s good,” he admits, thrusting hard back inside with a grunt—so brutally you think for a moment that something split inside you. It’s his massive girth that stretches your insides uncomfortably, the way he’s so much bigger, how he didn’t bother being gentle. The tears you’ve been trying to hold back spill out, and you scream as he sets an unforgiving pace. His body is much bigger, stronger than yours. He easily rocks you back and forth—like you're just some fuckdoll for him to use whenever and however he pleased. All your cries and the way you slam your fists against him are ignored. “Aww, are you crying?” His voice drips with mockery.

You hate it. You hate it so much.

Your hands push against his chiseled stomach. "Get out of me!"

Tartaglia laughs in a way that makes your cheeks burn helplessly. "You're still fighting? Don't you see it's useless, stupid girl." He squeezes your wrists together and pins them above you. There's no way he can possibly hold you down with just one hand, so you struggle, and struggle, and struggle. But nothing budges him at all. His lips are back on yours: kissing hungrily, teeth biting, tongue not wasting any drop. The hot and slimy kisses trail to your collarbone, leaving thick trails of drool. It's like he's salivating at the thought, the feeling, the everything about you.

"I'm not your toy!" you scream at him.

The blue-eyed man lets out a stuttering breath, followed by a snicker. "But you're my wife, which means we're bonded together for the rest of eternity. Remember our vows? Until death do us part." He groans, shifting his weight back a little to get a full view of your adorable face—all red and tear-streaked. “Haaah, you’re so cute when you make that stupid face. That kind of expression would drive any man wild, so don't go showing anyone else." Childe lowers himself to whisper in your ear. "Or I'll get really mad.” He grabs the plush of your thigh, jerking it onto his shoulder to better fuck you into the concrete.

"Ah! Stop, Ajax!"

"That's right, say name name just like that. Go on, cry it all out," he grunts. The shameful wet noises of his hips pounding into your cunt—over and over—fill up the alley. You want to block it out and only listen to the crackles of thunder, the rain as it swallows you up in a bitter cold. But each thrust of his dick breaks your resolve little by little. You’re afraid of someone stumbling down this path and seeing you like this, but you also yearn to be saved.

"H-He. . . lp." It hurts to say anything; your throat is hoarse from all the screaming and pleas for him to stop. "Papa, help me. . ."

The moment you call out for your father, Childe's grip tightens into steel. A punishing thrust rips a cry from you, trembles wrecking through your lithe figure. "Pay attention to me." His voice comes out a low growl. Your vision that was starting to black out returns abruptly. "Who's fucking you right now? Who's making you their bitch? That's right, me. So just forget about everything else and only look. at. me."

There's something so harsh about his words and it confuses you. You've never him like this before—the way he's looking at you with those terrifying eyes.

He glances at the slick gathered between your hips. "We're making such a mess. Finally consummating our marriage after all this time, hm?" Childe takes your left hand, and in a surprising gesture of intimacy, kisses the rings on it. You watch in disbelief as he lifts your hand to his cheek, nuzzling against it—like your warmth is his only flame in the middle of a freezing winter. A strange look dawns his face; you can't pinpoint it no matter how hard you try.

You flinch from his touch despite how gentle it is. "N-No, stop. . . I can't do it anymore. I'm gonna die."

Something flickers across his face, but it's quickly covered up with a smirk.

"Mmmf, you're tightening up again," he heaves out. There's no smile on his face anymore, a concentrated expression taking its place. You feel every bit of his sweat on you, as well as the way your ribcage rattles with how resonating, deep and full his moans are. "I s-should've been, agh, doing this more often while I—ghh!—had the chance." Suddenly, his eyes narrow, cock quivering. "S-Shit, 'mm close. Gonna fill you up nice and good. You'd like that, yeah?"

When you shake your head frantically, he takes out the revolver again and aims it between your eyes, hand trembling slightly from the intense pressure wrapped around his cock. “I’ll blow your, nghhh, p-pretty brains out after I fill you up.” That dark promise widens your eyes in fear; the adorable reaction makes him bursts into wild laughter. But from the way he bites his lips soon after, eyes filled with desire, it's clear that he's struggling to keep himself composed. “Ah, that look on your face; it’s too good! There's still two bullets inside. I’ll do it, darling. I’ll really kill you.”

"Ajax," you plead with a cracking voice. The look on your face must've been priceless ( maybe it was the despair, the defeat, the betrayal, who knows ). His body suddenly shakes with hearty laughter.

"Ha, hahahah! You can be so, so, so cute when you want to be." Childe lets out a low groan. With one last violent thrust, he releases all his cum—in hot, sticky spurts that leave you shivering—deep deep into your womb.

Everything goes numb, the loud thunder and pouring sky becoming white noise.

You stare up at Childe as he spins the revolver's cylinder one more time. The bullets in their cartridge rotate with a clinking noise, metal on metal, beckoning death from its slumber. There's a chance you'll die, and a chance you may walk out of here alive. But your heart is broken, and no one can survive without a functioning heart.

Childe smiles; it isn't playful but rather weak. "Ha, don't look at me like that. It makes me feel kind of bad. But don't worry! If you survive this, I'll let you go like I promised earlier."

He presses the nozzle against your forehead slowly—perhaps to prolong your despair, or maybe it's because of something else. You think you see something change in his blue gaze, but those eyes are still dark—as heavy and cold as a thousand seas. Even then, you find yourself clinging to that tiny spark of light.

"I love you."

The words spill out from your mouth.

Tartaglia sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes widen, filling with some strange emotion you've never seen in them before. After a bit, he squeezes them shut, as if your words seared his flesh. "Don't say things like that either." He finally looks at you with an unclear expression, one that surely isn't warm but not cold either. "It makes me feel like I'm gonna do something I regret."

His finger moves to the trigger.

And you wait for what's to come.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

## 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 | thank you for reading! got sick and tired of proofreading, so you'll probably find grammatical errors or clunky sentences. but wow i actually managed to write something kek.

( 10.21.23 ) ( © ollieink | my box is always open ! )

#( general ; ollie's writing )#childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #smut #childe smut #yanderecore #yancore

382 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 3 months

Text

chamomile

A/N: I was making myself a cup of tea earlier this evening and the idea blossomed from there 🥺

for @morallyinept Valentine’s Day masterlist 💗

~word count: 1.3k~

Summary: it’s Valentine’s Day and Dieter Bravo is alone and missing you

Pairing | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: mature, fluff, angst, language,implicit smut, one mention of dieter giving himself a handjob, mentions of alcohol and ouid, fwb’s, pining, assumed one-sided feelings, two idiots in love without realizing it, typical dieter behavior, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is petal, +18 minors dni!

On the long, lonely nights where Dieter Bravo is away from you, his solace, his person, he always finds himself struggling to sleep. An hour here, and an hour there, but it can never compare to the deep, dreamy, snooze he gets when you’re laying next to him, tangled up in his legs, under his sheets.

He knows deep down he’s got it bad for you. So bad, he can hardly think straight on most days. Dieter, you missed your cue, again.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and shakes his shoulders to relieve any pent up stress he’s feeling and to get back on track.

Did you even read the fucking script, Bravo?

He scoffs, jaw ticking under the harsh studio lights that buzz in his ear like a swarm of angry bees. Course I did. He lies through his teeth.

How could he even think about reading his lines when he spent hours of his night staring down his phone as he deeply contemplated the pros and cons of calling you up.

If I tell her how I feel, it makes everything fucking weird.

Or you get to live out your very own rom-com!

Or she never wants to speak to me again

Or she also confesses her deep, profound love for you.

Or..she doesn’t feel the same way and breaks my fucking heart into a million tiny pieces!

Or your dreams come true, Dieter.

You met Dieter Bravo through a friend of a friend at one of the movie star’s infamous parties. Dieter was drunk, a bit of a stumbling mess, but when his warm, and slightly clammy palm wrapped around your own, you knew you were donefore. And how was it possible for a scruffy man such as himself to have the kindest, softest, warmest brown eyes you ever had the pleasure of gazing into?

No, you were not in love with Dieter Bravo. He was just your friend..with the occasional benefits. Nothing more, nothing less.

When Dieter finds himself alone in his too big of a house for another night, he packs a bowl, and then another, and another. He takes a relaxing bath, alone with nothing but the comfort of his own fist wrapped around his cock. His lashes flutter shut, plush lips parting as he sinks further into the chamomile scented bubbles.

You told him once that chamomile should help him sleep better. He sent his assistant out the next day to buy chamomile tea, and literally any and all the chamomile scented products that she could find.

You took a bath together once, and he vividly remembers dragging his nose across the base of your neck, inhaling the sweet aroma while you nearly dozed off in his saccharine grip. Muscles relaxed, limbs pliant under the soapy water.

But you weren’t here. You were thousands of miles away on a girls trip with some of your single friends. It was the trip that finally made it out of the group chat, and it happened to fall on the week of Valentine’s Day.

Wait, that’s today, right? Shit. How pathetic. He thinks to himself, stroking his cock faster, creating ripples in the sudsy water.

Yeah, so fucking pathetic. Alone on fucking Valentine’s Day, and higher than a goddamn kite.

He doesn’t come, and while that in itself should be frustrating, he accepts his fate of misery while the temperature of the water becomes too cold to bear and he’s forced to retreat.

He packs another bowl, yanks his leftover Taco Bell from the fridge and eats it cold, like the feeling of his heart.

His king sized bed feels even larger than usual, and he chuffs a laugh, taking another bite of his half eaten crunch wrap supreme.

That’s because I’m fucking alone on Valentine’s Day.

He knows he’s not really alone. But on a day that is all about love, he sure as hell doesn’t feel the love.

He misses the way you would roll over mid sleep and drape your arm across his bare stomach. Your fingers would play with the dark, soft hair that led down to his happy trail while you drooled into the crook of his neck, soft snores escaping past your parted lips. He found it endearing. You were like a koala, and he was the tree branch of your choosing.

He so badly wanted to be your tree branch right now.

Was that lame? Probably. But Dieter could give less of a shit about any of that. He missed you, and the feeling ate away at him, carving a hole in his chest and yanking his heart right out.

He didn’t mind that you would accidentally kick him off the side of the bed, or steal all the covers. He loved it when you would talk in your sleep, babbling about pure nonsense that somehow to his ears made perfect sense.

Okay, so he missed you…a lot. He wasn’t the only person to miss someone this much. Hell, maybe even his neighbor was going through the same feelings and emotions as he was.

Love. Yeah, that’s what he was feeling. He was in love with you, and you had no fucking idea how he truly felt.

He tossed and turned, fluffed down his pillows, scrolled on his phone, watching his favorite saved tik toks, and he even tried listening to the soothing sounds of a thunderstorm through a podcast on Spotify. None of it was working. He couldn’t sleep, and you were to blame.

That’s how Dieter Bravo found himself in his kitchen, fully exposed sans some fluffy slippers on his feet that had seen better days. He dug through his pantry till he found the familiar box of chamomile tea. He let out a sigh of relief and tore open the silver foil with his teeth.

His phone screen read 2:30a.m as the kettle on the stove whistled loudly in his eardrums.

The familiar scent of chamomile coated his senses in a warmth that could only be described as you as he let the tea bag steep in his favorite chipped mug.

His knuckles drummed along the countertop nervously as he stared down his phone once more. He let out a huff, bringing one hand to scratch at the patches in his scraggly beard.

As steam billowed from the mug next to him, he finally picked up his phone and dialed your number.

He chewed on the tip of his thumbnail, eyes dancing nervously as the dial tone rang, and rang. He was ready to hang up and toss his phone in the garbage disposal when you finally answered.

His heart skipped a beat and his weed-hazed mind couldn’t keep up with the rate that words were flowing past his lips.

“Petal? Hey, happy Valentine’s Day. Well—er, happy belated Valentine’s Day? ‘Suppose it’s already over. Uh—hope I’m not bothering you, I just couldn’t sleep, so I’m in my kitchen having a cup of chamomile tea, like you suggested. Fuck, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I smoked a few too many bowls so my brain is a bit scrambled. Anyway, I miss you, baby. I’m so lonely, and I wish you were here.”

His stoned rambling continued on as you listened silently, holding your phone close to your ear and swatting at your friend's arm when they asked who was on the phone. The club music was booming at the same rate that your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Hi, Dee. I miss you too. I've been thinking...when I get back, can we grab dinner sometime?" You warmly suggest.

His pupils are blown wide like two shiny marbles illuminated under the soft glow of the moonlight trickling in through his tall kitchen windows.

“Fuck yes. I’d fucking love to grab dinner with you sometime, Petal.” He rasps softly through the receiver.

banners made by the lovely @saradika 💗

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

188 notes · View notes

fangirldreams101 · 6 months

Text

Coming Home pt. 7

DBF! Daryl, Rick, Shane & Negan x Reader

TW: Severe age-gap w/ older men, smut, consensual sex, handjobs/fingering, groping, some aggression, alcohol usage, piv (unwrapped, reader is on pill though), mentions of r*pe and m*rder (nothing actually happens though), goes from fluff to angst to smut, you chose the enter this emotional rollercoaster, they may be hot but they are hot with feelings, dub-con (technically consent is given, but its morally grey), oral (fem receiving）

Chapter Index

Throughout the rest of Negan's stay, you both became rather close. You gave him a proper tour of the small town you now called home and showed him all your favorite spots. He took you out on a few dates behind your dad's back, you both enjoying your time together. He loved to treat you after fucking your brains out, having you walk around without any panties so he could pull you into a dark corner and fuck you against the wall. He devoured every part of you that he could, it was like he wanted to memorize your body for when he would have to go back home. You had zero unrealistic expectations about your relationship, you were both just there for a good time until Negan had to fly back to Washington. He might not choose to take the job and you were not planning on getting tied down when you just started college anyway. But although you two were on the same page, it looked like some others did not get the memo.

Daryl shared what he saw the night of your birthday with Rick and Shane. Shane was just mad that someone got to you first, but Rick and Daryl were furious. How dare some dumb shit come in and fuck you when they couldn't? And then they had to see Negan parade you around like he just won himself the prized pony at the town fair. You were too innocent, too good for a man like Negan. Sure, they didn't know a thing about him, but they were more than certain they could treat you a million times better than he ever could. So they attempted to hatch various little schemes to make Negan look bad. However, none of them made it past the drawing board. The saying, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend,' did not apply at all to them. They would end up bickering amongst themselves and not a single plan came to fruition.

Any semblance of a truce between the three of them broke one fateful night.

Your dad was out drinking with some coworkers and you were at home, working on schoolwork. Suddenly, you heard the doorbell ring. Cautiously, you crept down the stairs and looked through the peep hole to find out who it was. It was Rick, bloodshot eyes and messed up hair. You quickly unlocked and opened the door, worried about his mental state.

"Hey is everything ok," you questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, clearly not expecting you to be the one to answer the door.

He didn't say anything which made you uneasy, so you lied about the whereabouts of your dad, "Were you looking for my dad? I can call him if you'd like."

He just stood there, looking at you. Honestly, it freaked you out, murder and rape statistics where the culprit is someone you know flashed through your head as you began to slowly backtrack on your words.

"How about you give me a second and I get my dad. He's upstairs, but it'll only take a second-," you began but Rick suddenly collapsed to his knees.

"Jesus! Rick, what's wrong," you cry out, running to his side.

His hands shoot out, pulling you into a rough kiss. Your body stills in shock, before struggling and pushing him away.

‘HEY," you yell, before softening your voice, "You are not in your right mind right now. Either you calm down and speak, or you leave."

Rick's bloodshot eyes began to tear up and you never thought you would see the day the man would be so vulnerable like this.

"Lori's takin' the kids," he shakily breathed out.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Oh god, Rick, I'm so sorry."

He buried his face into his hands and began to sob. Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him into the house and led him to a couch. You sat down next to him, pulling a blanket over his shoulders as the poor man broke down. You just held him, allowing him to cry out all his frustrations onto your shoulder.

After a while, his cries slowed to a stop and he pulled away. You offered him some napkins to wipe his face and he did so.

You both sat in silence for a bit before you broke it, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not much to talk about," his voice was rough, guarded, as if he was disappointed in himself for letting you see him like this.

"Is there anything you would like me to do," you asked, your voice kind and gentle, and completely undeserving of the storm running through his head.

"Can I kiss ya," he asked.

"Rick...," you said hesitantly, "You didn't want anything to do with me before and I'm worried that you'll regret it if you do something now. I don't want to take advantage of what you're feeling right now.“

He leaned close to you, eyes pleading, "I swear 'm not gonna regret it. I need ya, darlin'. Please."

He leaned in and pressed his swollen lips to yours. You didn't kiss back but after a moment of him running his fingers into your hair, mumbling words of praise and desire, you gave in.

"As long as you are sure," you said between his kisses.

"'m sure, 'm so sure. Wanted ya for so long, darlin'. Ya got no idea, how hard its been," he groaned out.

"Woah, there cowboy, I got a bedroom y'know," you gave a small smile, pulling Rick up and walking him up to your room.

As soon as the door was closed, he was on you like an animal. Desperate kisses placed against your neck and hands wandering all over your body. You moaned in response, your own hands tugging at the buttons on his shirt. Prying your clothes off each other, you take a moment to appreciate the handsome man on top of you. He pressed himself into your neck growling at the sight of Negan's marks littering your body. He begins to suck and bite over them, as if he was trying to cover up any evidence that Negan had you. Your naked bodies tumbled onto the bed, hands groping and pulling at each others' flesh. Rick lifted your hips, moving down your body, placing kisses as he went.

You offered to take care of him instead, but he looked up at you with his big eyes and pleaded to let him do this. With a nod of confirmation, he dug his face into you, eating you out like a man starved. Low groans of appreciation left his lips, his eyes closing in bliss as he licked a long stripe up your lips. He began to suckle on your clit, causing you to flail at the pleasure. You panted and moaned loudly, Rick having to force your hips down lest you accidently kick him. You reached your peak quickly, waves of pleasure crashing over you but Rick turned it into a tsunami as he continued to finger your slick folds and circle your clit with his mouth.

"Rick, 's too much," you moaned out at the overstimulation, trying to push him away.

He looked like a man possessed, like not a single word you were saying was getting through to him. As you tried to move away, his grip on your hips tightened, leaving marks as he just tugged you ever closer to his face. He kept mumbling incoherent words, you only picking up, "so pretty," "all mine," and, "waited so long." The desperate, sinful phrases he uttered sent vibrations through you, reaching another crescendo as you came again.

"Rick," you cried out in a long-drawn out moan, "Please."

The man blinks, looking like he fell out of a trance. He pulls away, allowing you to slump down in relief.

"'m sorry, darlin'," he said, wiping the glisten off of his face, "You just tasted so good."

"It's okay," you panted, still trying to catch your breath.

Rick takes that as his cue to continue, and he surges forward, spreading your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds.

"Wai- oh," you moan out as Rick plunges into you with one hard thrust.

He's girthy, stretching you out despite all of the wetness on you. It takes your breath away, but feels amazing and you cling onto his shoulders, pulling him close.

Without hesitation, Rick begins to move, thrusting in and out of you at a harsh pace. Once again, he acts like a man possessed, violently humping you. He bites and sucks on your breasts, pinching and pulling on your nipples. He switches from thrusting to giving shallow thrusts while grinding against your clit. It's like he is trying to be as deep inside of you as he can. He halts his assault on your breasts, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

In return, you wraps your legs around his hips, helping him reach deeper inside of you. You both moan out sweet nothings, words of empty affection and desire. Eventually, Rick grunts, pushing in deep and stilling, as white hot ribbons pulse out and line your walls.

As soon as he feels that every drop is in you, he slowly pulls out before quickly plugging you up with his fingers, causing you to cry out. He moves his head back down again, lapping at you while his fingers push his cum deeper inside. He tastes the mixture of you both and it makes him happy to know that there is such physical evidence of you together. You cry out one last time, lurching upwards as Rick helps you ride out your high. He finally pulls away completely and you let out a small laugh in absolute disbelief of how good that was.

"That good, huh, darlin'," Rick grinned and you nodded, reaching down to pull him in for a kiss.

You both relaxed into the bed, giddy and cuddled up next to each other.

After a bit of peace, you looked up at him, "Are you feeling better?"

He smiled, leaning down and kissing your forehead, "Much."

"Thank you," he murmured into your hair and you smiled, "Anytime."

The serenity you both created was broken by the sound of the door to the house closing and your dad's voice booming out, "Hi! I'm home!"

Whatever little pocket of peace, the temporary paradise you bestowed upon each other, was shattered with those three words. Rick rolled away from you like a man on fire, dropping to the ground in an effort to scramble for his clothes.

"Fuck," you whispered and the man muttered unholy mantras under his breath as he struggled to put his clothes on.

You put on a nightgown you owned and a robe, "Calm down. He doesn't come into my room without knocking and you left nothing downstairs that would be evidence you were here. You're going to have to wait for him to go to his room before you can slip out the door anyway."

You heard your dad call for you again as his footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and down the hall towards your room. You and Rick looked at each other in a panic.

"I can jump outta the window, a fracture never hurt nobody," he said, already pulling at the window.

Your dad knocked on the door, "Sweetie? Everything okay? Just got back from hanging with the guys."

You signaled to Rick to stop moving and to stay quiet, before calling back out to him, "Yeah everything's good! Just woke up from a nap is all! I'll be down in a sec!"

Your dad yawned, "No worries! Take your time too, think Imma take a shower 'n freshen up."

You could hear him move away from your door and towards the bathroom. Neither you nor Rick moved a hair until the sounds of the water rushing caused you to both sag in relief.

"Were you really about to jump out the window, just to avoid him," you quipped, quirking an eyebrow.

Rick did not look amused, "I really don't want to hurt him."

You put your hands up in a surrendering motion, you really didn't want to redo this conversation again, "Okay, okay. Let's get you out of here."

You poked your head out of the room, double checking that the coast was clear and then motioned for Rick to follow you. You guys climbed down the stairs and reached the front door. You both went out onto the porch and he began to move away.

Quickly, you grasped onto his arm, "You're not going to start treating me coldly again, are you?"

"Pretty sure it was you doin' that, darlin'," he chuckled, but stopped seeing your expression.

"You know what I mean," you pouted.

Rick sighed, before reaching down and pecking you on the head, "I do. And I won't."

You gave a bright smile, practically blinding him. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you planted a sweet kiss on his lips.

"I look forward to seein' you around, then."

Rick nodded, a slight blush covering his face, "Wouldn't miss it for the world, darlin'."

He stepped away, turning to watch you reenter the house before going back on his way home. Life kept draining him, but you kept him going like a solar-powered battery.

Next up:

"YOU DID WHAT TO MY KID?" Your dad roared.

Taglist:

@eternalrose81 @belaballs @lonely-girl2423 @thewitchesofart @theoraekenslover @raininhell @juleshaters @blackvelveteen1339

186 notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

DRIPPIN'

pairing: boyfriend!haechan x inexperienced!fem!reader x haechan’s best friends!mark, jeno, jaemin

genre: smut, pwp, non-idol au, established relationship (with haechan) | requested

summary: you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.

warnings: smut, fivesome (here we go again lmao), unprotected sex, dubcon bc of corruption kink and innocence kink, minor (unconscious) exhibitionism, voyeurism, thighs riding, fingering, (at first) non-con (then) consensual filming but with a bit of manipulation so dubcon filming, oral sex (m and f), loss of virginity, pet names, praise kink, nipple sucking, spanking, anal (f), c*m play (like a lot), dacryphilia, double penetration, minor pain kink, subspace, too many orgasms, overstimulation, jaemin is nasty, jeno bites, mark and haechan seem normal but they aren’t either | if i missed something lmk

word count: 18.211k (of smut, nothing else, just smut)

a/n: big sigh, this was a challenge on so many levels, from the innocence kink to the fact that it’s my first (and probably last lmao) long-length fic written in second person and present tense. It probably takes more to flow compared to my usual stuff because I didn’t want it to be too overwhelming at the start (wanted to keep as consensual as possible) but I hope when it kicks in, it flows well. I also hope it’s what the person that requested wanted. I know I say it every time, but I seriously think this is the filthiest thing I ever wrote. Please, please, let me know what you think about it, especially if you read my old stuff because this is such a new thing for me and it would mean a lot to know if it’s as good as the rest or if should stick to the old way. Enjoy!!♡

You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel a weird sensation in your body. It’s... funny, that’s how you would describe it, apart from feeling hotter, and more sensitive at the slightest touch.

You don’t think you’re sick or something, it’s not the first time that this happened and it’s not painful, just annoying. And the worst of it all is that you don’t know how to take care of it.

An irrational part of you is telling you to talk to your boyfriend, Haechan. But another feels that it’s wrong. It’s like a prude part of your brain is screaming to keep it to yourself.

And yes, it had happened before but it never felt like this, it never lasted this long. It had been two days that you feel... You feel... Needy? Clingy? Whiny?

It feels pathetic, and you only hope that whatever it is, it will pass fast.

“Oh,” you exclaim when you enter the living room and see your boyfriend’s best friends sit on one of the two couches. “I didn’t know you were coming.” You walk toward them and see their eyes linger on you longer than usual. “Oh, I was going to bed. That’s why the pj’s,” you chuckle, totally not getting that their gazes weren’t judging ones but horny, something you couldn’t know. You couldn’t even get it when your boyfriend looked at you like this, so how could you do it with his friends?

“Babe.” Haechan’s voice makes you turn around and smile at him softly. “My bad, it was kinda a last-minute thing.”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, shivering when his hand rests on your middle and rubs circles against the thin fabric of your camisole. Your eyes trail there, feeling your skin burn and you start to wonder if maybe you have a fever or something. “Beer and game night?” You force yourself to bring your attention back to them, smiling at the other three men as if nothing is going on.

“Actually, no alcohol, we have to drive home,” Mark replies, gulping after he drifts his eyes away from your hard nipples. You’re not wearing a bra and they are rock hard under the thin layer covering your beautiful body and he knows is not due to the cold because the temperature in the room is normal. It even starts feeling hot the more he looks at you.

“Well, have fun then,” you say, eyes wrinkling as you beam at them. “I’ll just go back to our bedroom —”

“No, come on, babe,” Haechan says, pulling you close to him. “Stay with us. You wanted cuddles before, didn’t you?" He coos, making you lower your head to hide how flustered you look. Yes, you did ask for it, hoping it would ease some of your pain, but it’s so embarrassing in front of his friends.

“It’s because I had a rough week,” you justify to them. You always fear what you look like in their eyes. You have a feeling that they don’t even like you that much because you are quite different from Haechan’s exes or the girls they surround themselves with. You kind of envy them for being so confident and not so affectionate. Thinking the way you act makes you look dumb in their eyes.

“It’s fine, no judgment here,” Jeno reassures, winking at you... And why do you find that attractive?

You mentally slap yourself before letting Haechan drag you on his lap. One of your favorite cuddling positions; facing him, resting your head on his shoulder, and enjoying his hands rubbing your back. You’d like to listen to their talks, or discussions on what game they want to play or if it was better to watch a movie, but your mind is somewhere else.

You feel off and euphoric at the same time, mind dizzy, disconnected from your rational part, guiding your body without you even knowing. You blame it on the way Haechan is touching you, smooth hands pressing harder than usual on your skin, and occasionally going lower on your half-exposed ass. You don’t think much about it, too lost in the sensation, and almost sleepy while your left cheek rests against his shoulder.

You don’t know that on the other side of the room, your boyfriend’s best friends’ eyes are boring holes into you, trying to play it cool, to don’t get caught by him while they stare at your skin, and think of how soft and pretty —and spankable— your ass looks as it starts grinding against him, trying not to drool like horny dogs.

“Hyuck,” you whine when you feel your body get hotter. “I think I have a fever.”

Your boyfriend hums, bringing his attention to you that are now looking at him after pulling away from his body.

“A fever?” He asks, raising a hand to touch your forehead. “Babe, you’re fine.”

You want to retort and say that you don’t feel fine, but you guess he wants to spend some time with his friends and you’re already getting too much in the way. Maybe you should just go to your bedroom and sleep, it was going to pass, it had to pass.

So you clear your throat and move away from Haechan. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, waving at his friends before leaning in to kiss him, shorts rising up more, giving a perfect view of your asscheeks. And the other three have to suppress a groan and look away.

“Are you sure?” Your boyfriend checks in again, fingers grazing the back of your hand in gentle circles.

“Yeah, I don’t feel,” you stop, not wanting to worry him. “I don’t feel like staying up.”

“Kay, goodnight, babe,” he greets back, smiling at you, watching you disappear into the bedroom.

You think it will pass. You hope it will. After minutes that feel like hours, you start to pray it will go away. But the more you try to fight it, the strongest it gets. You feel it between your legs, but the more you squeeze them, the more it grows. The more you rub it away the worst it gets.

So you huff loudly, move the blankets off your body and go out again.

“Oh, you’re still here,” you gasp when you see that his friends are still at home. And you don’t know what to do anymore. You really don’t want to ruin his fun, but you feel like you’re going insane and you don’t why you can’t control it. All the other times it went and passed but now it’s like your senses are enhanced.

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice is worried, and he’s looking at you with apprehension.

“’M fine,” you mumble, running to him, playing nervously with the hem of your camisole.

“Want some water?” Jaemin asks, seeing how flustered you look and you nod, small steps to walk to him and grab the glass he’s offering you.

“Slow, honey,” he chuckles when you gulp it eagerly and a droplet of water drips down your chin to your chest, making you whimper at the contrast between the cold water and your burning skin. “Don’t be messy,” he whispers, licking his lips, eyes telling you to do the exact opposite because he’s loving this shaken side of you.

“Thanks,” you breathe, handing him the empty glass and drying your lips with your thumb. You see Jeno shift in his place and growl lowly but you don’t think on it for long. And in a second you’re turned back to your boyfriend. You’re so close to them that Mark is really tempted to pull you on his lap and fuck you. But you slip out of their hold, running to your boyfriend before his fucked up thoughts can come to life.

“Can’t sleep, can I sit on your lap?”

Haechan hums, spreading his legs to make space for you, expecting you to give him his back but you sit just like you were before. And when you moan when your lower part brush against his body, he gets what’s going on.

It had been days since you were needier than usual, oversensitive in a way you usually aren’t. He’s the perverted one that always touches you and teases you, making you shy while you push him away because it feels wrong. He’s the one that makes jokes you don’t get, only widening your eyes and mouth when you realize he’s hinting at something he shouldn’t be talking about so freely and casually.

But you, God, you are the sweetest, most innocent person he has ever met, and it drives him crazy. He knows it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t fantasize about ruining you, dragging every single piece of innocence and naivety from your brain and turning you into his nasty, horny girl, but he can’t help it. He wants you to be addicted to his lips, his fingers, his cock, every part of him.

But, as much as he’d like to ruin you, he promised himself he was going to wait for you, wait till a small part of your prude shield falls apart and lets him in, and now, you are serving it on a silver plate.

He tries to keep his attention on his friends, nodding at whatever Mark is saying and grinning when Jaemin argues back. But then you start rocking your hips on him and all his sanity is gone.

What the fuck are you doing? And in front of his friends?

He shouldn’t find that hot. He really shouldn’t get a boner for the fact that you’re so turned on that you’re trying to get off in front of everybody without even knowing.

It’s wrong. So wrong.

But he forgot the line between wrong and right a long time ago when it comes to you.

So he grips your hips tighter and for some unknown reason, that gets you even more.

You bite your lips and press more against him, feeling… something hard?

You blink hazily, sitting straight to face him with a confused expression but your hips are still grinding against him, slower than before, but the movement is perceptible enough to drag other three pairs of eyes there.

“Hyuck…?” You ask, voice barely higher than a whisper and hands wrapped around his shoulders when you feel it move. “What — what is that?”

“What, baby?” He fakes innocence, wanting you to break it, to slip into that world you kept your distance from for so long.

“Why… why is it hard? Is it you? Or is it the remote?”

You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, guessing it comes from Jaemin, and you’re about to turn around when Haechan cups your face and makes you turn to him. His hold is slightly rougher than his usual touch but you don’t mind, it surprises you, but it doesn’t scare you.

“It’s me, baby,” he coos, smiling. You raise a brow when you see his lips curl in a smirk, a cocky grin that usually paints his face when he wants to prove something, or when he wins, whether it’s a game or an argument. So you don’t truly get why he has it on his face now. You don’t get that you are the game he wants to win.

You don’t expect him to kiss you, hard and intensively, wrapping one hand behind your neck and pushing your waist toward him with the other. You expect even less to don’t pull away, and so do the others that are looking at the scene. You are the shy one that pulls away at the slightest peck on the cheek in front of his friends so what has taken over you now?

They don’t know. And they know they shouldn’t care but the thoughts that have been crossing their minds for half of the night were already so fucked up that they surely weren’t going to stop now. You teased them without even knowing. You teased them in front of your boyfriend. And fuck, that was fucked up, but they had no intention to stop. In the end, it was going to be a silly fantasy they were taking home, slumping on their beds alone and jacking off thinking of you in those skimpy pink clothes, making sure Haechan wasn’t going to ever find out about it and then act like usual in front of you.

“Hyuck,” you moan his name when he pulls back from the kiss, and his hardness rubs against you. “Wait,” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. “I — I feel weird. It — it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts, baby?” He purrs, stopping his movement, smiling when you nod.

“It’s been hurting all day, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Where does it hurt, pretty?” He asks and your hands trail down your body, shyly touching your core. “Here.”

Haechan kisses your pout away before his fingers replace yours and he pushes against your sensitive clit. You moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Yeah, there,” you cry. “Hurt so much, Hyuck. I don’t know how to make it go away.”

“Want me to make it go away?” He asks, hand cupping your ass and squeezing tight.

Jeno’s eyes go wide as he stares at you in utter shock. “Wait… are you doing this now? In front of us?” He chuckles to water down the awkwardness and the excitement and you turn around confused.

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, big sorry eyes locking into his, dark and intense, staring right into you. He makes you shiver as you fear he’s mad at you for ruining their night, so you justify yourself again, “I’ve been holding it all night, but I can’t keep it anymore. I don’t want to ruin your fun, I swear I tried to make it stop but I won’t, it won —”

“Shh,” your boyfriend shushes you with a kiss. Eyeing the other three that are starting with their mouths open.

You truly don’t know anything.

“It’s fine, you didn’t ruin our night,” he whispers, caressing your hip. “We’ll help you.”

“We?” Mark’s voice comes out strangled and even if you can’t see him, you know his eyes are wide open.

Your boyfriend chuckles, smiling at his friends before he grins at you. “She looks really in pain. I’m sure she needs all the help we can give her.”

“Haechan, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jeno replies, a nervous edge in his voice.

“They — they don’t want to, it’s fine,” you say, voice huffing when his thigh flexes under your hot core. “If you tell me how, I can, I can take care of this alone.”

Haechan thinks you’re so cute, so close at your breaking point and yet still trying to keep it together. “No, honey, you can’t. I’ll help you.”

“But they —”

“If they don’t want to participate, it’s fine. But I’m sure they won’t mind watching. But they can always leave.”

At this point you don’t care, so you hum and wait for his next move.

“Did it feel better when you grind on me?”

“When I did this?” You ask, starting to rock your hips back and forth, hearing a groan come from behind you, but not being able to make out which one of the three is.

“Yes,” Haechan replies, voice coming out raspy and lower than normal.

“Am I hurting you?” The innocence in your voice and your eyes and in the way your hands are caressing his shoulders so delicately makes him groan and curse internally as he’d only wish to turn you over and fuck you deep and hard into the couch, not caring much if you can take it that hard or not. But he doesn’t, he has been patient for months, he can wait some minutes.

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth and that makes you stop, tilting your head to the side as you study his contracted features.

“Are you sure? Why are you groaning?”

“It feels good, babe. It feels so fucking good.” He grins when your eyes shy away at the vulgar word. He was used to holding back in front of you, knowing you weren’t really fond of swearing, but tonight he is going to have so much fun. “Do you feel good?”

You nod swiftly. Feeling a warm sensation spread in your body the more you move against him. And you feel… wet? You want to ask what it is but it’s like the words can’t form in your brain. Not only you don’t feel pain anymore, but you feel good. Better than ever before. And you feel… high. It’s almost as if your body is running after something bigger, stronger, and more intense.

“Hyuck,” you call out crying when you feel your stomach twist and your pussy clench before a rush invades your body and makes your body tremble against him before you still, nails digging into his covered shoulders and jaw clenching. You stay like that for a while, chest panting and head thrown back while your eyes are closed and you try to understand why you felt so many emotions there. You know body parts, you know what it was meant for, but you never thought it could feel good. And why? You aren’t going to have babies, right? The doubt slips into the back of your mind, though.

“Feel better?” Haechan asks and you’re brought back to earth.

You bite your lips, feeling shy when your body screams at you that it’s not enough.

“A bit,” you reply lowly, looking down at his lap, seeing how hard he is.

He snorts and then looks at the other three rolling his eyes. They swiftly look around the room, covering their boners the best they can. “Fucking fake prigs I can see your cocks twitch from here,” he mocks, making their eyes snap on him. “So, what are you going to do? Sit there and watch? Leave? Or do you wanna share and fuck around?”

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he means by that. But he ignores you, too busy staring at his friends, waiting for an answer as his feet tap on the floor.

“Fuck it.” The first one to stand up is Jaemin, reaching you in a few seconds with big steps. If Haechan was willing to share you, he wasn’t going to say no. Virgin and inexperienced, it surely couldn’t have been worse than his hands and his memory of you.

“Wait, I don’t, I don’t get it,” you mumble when you feel Jaemin’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you away from your boyfriend.

“You’re in pain, aren’t you?” He asks, tone gentle, a sweet and reassuring smile on his face. You’re so lost in how kind he looks your brain almost stops panicking and you only nod. Well, now you feel better, or that was what you thought, but it seems like the tingly sensation it’s creeping up your bones again. “We just want to help you feel good. Do you trust us?”

You gulp when he sits you on the couch next to Haechan and when your eyes drift off him, you see Jeno and Mark stand over you too.

You’re confused. A part of your brain is telling you that you should also probably be scared of what’s about to come but you pay it no mind. You’re burning up. You need something but you don’t know what it is. So how bad can it be that they are helping you with that? Also, you trust Haechan, he would never let them do something you don’t want.

“Will I feel better?” You ask, looking at Haechan that is already smiling at you.

“Like you never felt before,” he replies, caressing your cheek with two fingers, shivers running down your spine because it’s like you sense a shift in him —and everybody in the room.

“O-okay,” your voice is low, but your body relaxes under his soft touch on your exposed thigh. You don’t expect him to kneel between your legs and part them open. You wait for the next move in silence and see their hungry eyes staring at you.

You look so pure; pastel pink shorts wrapping around your soft thighs, the top laying softly on your upper body, flustered expression, eyes filled with curiosity, apprehension and lust. And when Haechan pulls them down, he reveals white panties, stained with wetness, highlighting even more the outlines of your pussy.

There’s only one thought that crosses their minds.

They can’t wait to ruin you.

But you don’t see it, you’re still pretty unaware of what’s going to happen, how are they going to fix your aching pain between your legs. So that’s why you’re so shocked about what Haechan does next.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen and your legs clump together when he pushes your panties down your legs.

“Trying to make you feel better,” he smirks as if it’s obvious.

“You’re — you’re undressing me,” you mumble, feeling too ashamed to meet the others’ eyes, but you can still feel them on your skin. The air of the room seems so cold when it hits against your hot, wet skin and you feel so small and exposed because they are all standing around you, tall and broad, fully dressed and in control.

“If you want to feel good, we have to see you.” You’re waiting for Haechan to answer but the voice that fills the silence in the room is Jeno’s.

Your eyes skim to him, gulping when you meet his gaze. You feel like a prey. And he’s starving. They all are.

“But — but you’re not my boyfriends, isn’t this… wrong?” You ask, an instinct telling you that whatever is about to happen shouldn’t be happening like this, not with his friends. It should be only you and your boyfriend. Now you might be innocent but you know being naked is an intimate thing, you barely showed yourself to him after months of dating; the only time he got to see your naked form was after he spent hours convincing you to take a shower together and you gave him your back for half of the time.

“Is it wrong if it makes you feel good?” Mark asks, smiling at you.

You ponder on it. Will this make you feel good? You are sure it will, if it’s anything close to what you felt before it can’t be different, but you still feel like it shouldn’t happen.

“Let’s ask your body, babe,” Haechan brings your attention to him again, spreading your legs and planting your right foot on the couch seat so they can have a perfect view of your cunt.

You hide your face behind your hands, feeling too exposed, but Jaemin sits beside you and moves them away.

“Don’t hide, pretty,” he purrs, nose nuzzling against your cheek, making you chuckle lowly. “We’re doing this for you.”

“Fuck,” you hear Mark moan when Haechan spreads your pussy lips apart, cold air hitting your core, making you moan. “She’s dripping.”

You want to ask what he means by that, but your boyfriend’s fingers hitting a sensitive spot makes you quiver. Your head rolls back and your eyes fall shut.

You hear muffled chuckles, but you don’t pay them much attention.

“Look at him,” Jaemin whispers, encouraging you to keep your eyes open and stare right between your legs, you find it wrong and slightly humiliating, but you do as he says. He’s there to make you feel better, so he knows what he’s doing.

“What is this…” you whimper when Haechan’s fingers touch the substance that is dripping out of your pussy, smearing it around, sticky and cold, making you squirm at the weird sensation.

“This?” He says, lifting his fingers up after collecting it, two digits scissoring in the air, a white and transparent string connecting them. You nod, not expecting him to do what comes next. “This is how excited you are for us.” He brings his fingers in his mouth and you don’t know why, but something about it feels wrong and your legs close in shame immediately, but Jaemin parts them open.

“No hiding, remember? You’re so pretty, why would you hide this from us?” He coos, bringing one of his hands where Haechan was before.

You’re about to complain, once again feeling like he shouldn’t be the one doing that, but Haechan doesn’t say anything, and you can’t complain when he starts moving his fingers on you. Shocks of pleasure spreading through your body as he starts moving them so nicely.

“Like it, bunny?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. He’s not even watching where his fingers are, playing with you with his eyes closed as if he’s been doing it for ages. “Like it when I play with your clit?”

The temperature of your body spikes up at his words. You may not know how good you can feel but you’re pretty good at anatomy, yeah, even that anatomy, no matter how embarrassing you found it, but this surely wasn’t for scientific purposes so, of course, your skin burns up and your legs are about to close again.

This time is Mark the one that stops you, sitting on the other side of the couch and keeping your leg still.

“You didn’t answer,” Jaemin reminds you, voice lower and sterner.

“Yeah, it feels good,” you breathe out. Your breath shakes when he teases your entrance, the tip of his fingers pushing just against the opening but without sliding in.

“Oh, bunny. You must like me a lot,” he chuckles, collecting more wetness and spreading it on your thigh.

Your eyes look for Haechan, trying to get if it’s a bad sign, if he’s mad because you’re enjoying somebody else’s touch so much, but he’s lost, eyes staring right into your core and on his friend’s finger, and you shouldn’t feel so pulled toward him but something in the way he’s looking at you, well, your pussy, makes you feel even hotter.

By now you got where this is going, it’s about sex. That’s where all your problems are coming from. But you don’t know what to do. And you typically don’t like not having control over things.

“I — I’ve never done this before,” you blabber out, making them laugh.

“We know,” Jeno replies. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.”

“Is it — is it bad?”

“Bad?” Jaemin grins, starting to move his fingers faster. “That’s the funny part.”

You look at him with confused, yet curious eyes, and he winks at you.

“Want his fingers?” Haechan asks, nervously shaking his leg because this is dragging too long and he just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, he had waited long enough, and now he has to have you.

“Like… inside?” You dare to ask and Mark laughs, “so, you know something about sex.”

“I — I,” you stutter, but the words die in your brain. You heard your friends talk about it, it was something along the lines of ‘taking care of themselves,’ and ‘he’s so good I couldn’t walk for a day,’ but you never indulged in those kinds of talks. Sex just felt too dirty and wrong for you, so you always avoided it. But maybe now you would’ve found those talks useful, maybe if you sat and listened just one time, you would’ve taken care of this yourself instead of ending up here, spread open, dripping wet, in front of your boyfriend and his friends. Not that you mind, but you’re not really sure you can take whatever is about to come.

“Dude, it’s a miracle she knows how to call what she has between her legs,” Jaemin retorts and you glare at him.

“Hey! I know how to call it.”

He smirks, quickening the pace on you, your lower lip getting trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans.

“Say it,” he orders, looking straight into your eyes, they look oddly soft for the way he’s talking to you and moving his fingers on your sensitive bud. But that’s what’s pushing you to the limit again, his contrasts.

Still, it’s hard to swallow and let the word slip out of your mouth, and when you do, when the word ‘pussy’ falls from your lips, you’d rather be swallowed by the floor.

“Good girl,” Jaemin praises you and you have no idea of the effect those two words have on you until the same pleasure of before hits you unexpectedly.

“And we’re down to two, she won’t last longer, you know,” Jeno says, looking at you with an amused expression, giggling at the way you’re so confused about what he’s talking about. “You came, baby,” he clears your doubt. “Just like before when you were grinding on him like your life depended on it. You had an orgasm.”

“Ruining all the fun?” Jaemin huffs, glaring at him.

The black-haired rolls his eyes. “She already had two, I’m not ruining anything.”

“Can you stop?” Haechan stops them, getting up, towering over you. “I won’t let you come close to her if you keep bickering over bullshits.”

You don’t say a word, but your body tingles seeing this side of your boyfriend. Haechan is one that knows what he wants but you’ve never seen him like this, so dominant, so in control. It’s hot, and it makes you wetter.

Haechan would love to eat you out, he’s been dreaming about it since you first started dating, and your cunt glistening is basically inviting him, but he’s leaving that for later, maybe even to somebody else of them, knowing how disgusting his friends are, they wouldn’t flinch at going down on you with a mix of their cum dripping out of you. He has all his life with you to eat your pussy and leave you like a trembling mess, and even if you don’t know, he’s going to make sure to do that.

“Want to help me with my pain, baby?” He asks and you frown.

“You said you weren’t in pain?”

“Oh, I’m not in pain when you’re paying attention to me, but you left me all hard and throbbing for you,” he pouts, shuffling with his pants and pushing them down his smooth, toned legs. Your eyes wander on them before something bigger catches your eyes. No, it’s not your first time seeing him, but the first time you barely paid attention to it and you’re more than sure it wasn’t that big.

“You… you are in pain there?” You ask, briefly looking between his legs, pointing with a shy finger, before meeting his warm, brown eyes.

He nods, taking a step back. “Get on your knees,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation.

“Damn, she’s obedient,” Mark notices with a small smirk on his face and something about it makes your heart swell with pride.

“Does it hurt because it’s hard?”

Haechan smiles, caressing your cheek, fighting the urge to stuff your mouth full and turn you into a crying mess, but it’s hard when you’re looking at him like that, big eyes and a genuinely concerned pout on your lips.

“Kinda,” he replies. “I’m so hard because of you. We are hard because of you.” You turn around, looking at them but they’re all completely dressed up and that hits you, you’re so exposed while they’re not, and… “This is the effect you have on us.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Why do I bring you pain?”

“You don’t bring us pain,” he chuckles, thumb caressing your lower lip, “not if you take care of it.”

“Do you want to take care of us?” Jeno asks, making you look at him.

You nod eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I want to be good. Want to make you feel good just like Nana did with me.”

Haechan smiles before moving closer to you, holding the base of his cock in his hands. “I’ll guide you, okay? If anything makes you uncomfortable just tap my thighs and I’ll stop.”

You nod, anticipation bubbling into you. Fear long gone as this feels all new and exciting. And your competitiveness kicks in when you remind yourself that the others are watching. You want to be good. You want to make them want you even more. You want to prove to them you can be as good as them.

“Touch it,” he says and your hand hesitantly moves to wrap around it, you follow his action and wrap around his base before he orders you to move up and down. It feels weird. It’s heavy and hard, so damn hard a small part of you is jumping with pride because you are the cause of that.

You don’t know what comes over you but you lean in, tongue sticking out to lick his tip, dripping something salty and white.

They gasp and you pull away immediately, taken aback.

“Did I do something wrong?” Your eyes are apologetically looking at all of them as if you’re also doing something to them.

“No, no,” Mark replies, voice clipped and face…red?

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” he cuts you off and you don’t focus on him when Haechan clears his throat and you turn to him.

“Can you take it all in your mouth?”

Your eyes widen. All of it?

“Sure,” you reply, swallowing your fear, pretending that you know exactly what you’re doing but you don’t know a thing. You’re playing with fire and you don’t even fear you’re going to get burned.

You knit your brows when he pushes into your open mouth, it’s heavy on your tongue and big, so big you don’t know how you’re going to take it all since he’s not even halfway in and you’re already gagging. Has your gag reflex always been so terrible?

“Oh, poor baby,” you hear Jaemin’s voice come from beside you, you guess he’s standing next to you now, but you don’t move your eyes to check, trying to concentrate on the big cock your boyfriend was trying to make you take. “Is it too much for you?”

It is.

But you’re too proud to give it to him. So you shake your head, a terrible mistake that makes Haechan slip into you more and you gag on it.

They all laugh and you look up at Donghyuck trying to look menacing but you only look funny like that, cute, his cute little baby always, but funny.

“Maybe, Nana is right,” he says, caressing your cheek, finding it endearing how you’re still holding him in, ignoring the way some spit is already dripping out of the corner of your mouth. And he didn’t start moving yet. “Maybe you can’t take it.”

You cough when he pulls out, spit trickling down your chin but the thought of wiping it off doesn’t even cross your mind. You want to prove a point, make them proud.

“I can, I can take it,” you squeak, shifting on your knees, the hard floor starting to burn on your skin. “Please, give me another chance, I just need to get used to it,” you say before lowering your voice and eyes. “It’s big.”

They’d like to tease you more at how shy you are, mocking you to repeat it, this time looking at his eyes and saying that word, but they all leave it as a thought. Because if it might not be too much for you — it is — but it’s definitely getting too much for them.

None of them is known for being patient, maybe Jeno, when he’s in the right mood. But they all move like beasts, eager to get more, and fast, and this is taking way too long. It’s hot, but none of them is used to ease people into sex, nobody else they ever fucked with would take so much to jump on their cock and come out of there looking like a mess. But you on the other hand…

“We’ll try one last time, baby,” Haechan coos, “but if you disappoint me, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want it, right?”

You shake your head. You have no idea what kind of punishment he’s talking about, but you don’t even want to find out. You will make him feel good.

Haechan groans and throws his head back when you take all his length inside, trying to ignore the way the fat tip of his cock is pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You think that could turn him off, but apparently, the more you struggle, the happier he gets. And the same thing applies to the lewd sounds, you find them disgusting and embarrassing even, but the four men around you don’t feel the same.

It’s hot seeing you put so much effort into something so lewd, innocently doing your best to make him feel good, staining your purity with squelching sounds, muffled moans and bobbing head. Your pretty pink camisole still covering your upper body, staining with spit and pre-cum dripping out your messy first blowjob.

It’s not even the kind that Haechan loves the most, he might be eager but he’s rather neat — unlike somebody else — but he doesn’t care right now, he can’t, not even if usually, the feeling of so much drool spilling down his balls would make him cringe, right now it’s making him even harder.

And after all, you will learn.

They were all sure that by the end of the night they would’ve turned you into a completely different person. Addicted to their cocks and sex.

And you are on the right road they want you to follow because as dirty as it feels, as much the piercing gaze of these men and their groans and dirty words makes you want to hide, they are once again igniting a spark inside of you.

Your thighs clench and you knit your brows when you feel your clit throb and your pussy clench around nothing, an embarrassing amount of cum dripping out of you. How much do you like them?

You think they don’t catch on it, too busy with the way your lips wrap around your boyfriend’s cock and your lashes flutter, looking up at him.

But Mark sees the way you act. He has been studying you for a while, going crazy at the way you never realize how hot you are. He hates to admit it but he has fantasized about you a lot. You were rather physical with him because he seems so nice and sweet and, after all, he is Haechan’s best friend, so you never hesitated to be all over him when your boyfriend wasn’t around, hugging him longer than you did with others, even daring to kiss him on the cheeks when you greeted each other, and you weirdly loved his hands.

So, he was going to give you a taste of it because he wanted to see your innocent façade fall apart.

You almost choke more around Hyuck’s dick when you feel a hand between your legs and a body press against your back.

“Hi, babe.” Mark’s voice hits your lobe and your ass press back against him, silently, and shamelessly, asking him to help you. “Are you in pain again?”

You nod, try to, considering Haechan now has grabbed a fistful of your hair and is guiding you on his cock with more force.

Mark only laughs, he doesn’t ask if you want his fingers, if you’re ready to take his fingers, eventually, you’ll have to get used to it, right? And your body seems more than ready anyway. And as expected, it’s not that hard to slip a finger inside you, your tight walls relaxing around him and welcoming in with ease even if it’s your first time.

Your head falls back, pulling away from Haechan’s firm hold and spluttering when your mouth is finally empty again.

“Fuck,” Jaemin moans, and then brings one hand on your face, you expect him to wipe the mess away, but instead he smears it around your face, making you gasp and blink in surprise. “What, bunny?” He snickers, a mocking smirk on his lips. “You look so pretty like this, like a painting.”

You can’t see yourself, so you seek reassurance from your boyfriend that is looking at you with a tender — wicked — smile. “He’s right, you’re so pretty like this.”

You don’t reply, a bit because you can do nothing but accept it and a bit because when Mark pushes a second finger inside, it feels too much.

“Mark, oh… wow,” you whimper, head falling to stare between your legs how his hand is pressing against your clit and his wrist is moving to guide the movements inside of you.

“Oh, wow?” Jeno chuckles, mocking you. “Do you ever swear?”

You stammer, head snapping at him in surprise. He scares you because you can’t read him. He had barely touched you or teased you and you don’t know what to expect, he seems sweet, but is he? Are they? You don’t have time to dwell on them or their kindness because Haechan grabs your hair again, tugging at it harshly enough to make you groan in pain.

You look at him asking for an explanation, but he just pushes his cock inside your mouth. He doesn’t have the patience to teach you with words anymore, he will throw you straight into the practice ground, hoping you will make it out alive.

“I told you I don’t want to be disappointed,” he groans, hips moving with a steady, fast rhythm, now truly not caring if you can take it or not. “You were doing so good, baby, keep taking my cock. Show me how much love me. You love me, right?”

You hum around him and you get that it must feel good because his eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten around your hair. So you do it again, this time not to answer him, but you guess the sounds coming out of your lips are caused by Mark’s fingers inside you.

Your eyes snap in panic toward Jaemin when you see him pick up his phone and as soon as Haechan frees your mouth you ask, “What — what are you doing?”

“Filming you,” he smiles. A sweet, toothy smile that hides the grin in his eyes and the way the sight of you, teary eyes, ruined mascara starting to pool under your eyes, spit streaked chin and cheeks as the saliva dries on your beautiful skin, is making his cock rock hard.

“But — but why?”

“Because you need to learn, remember?” Surely, not because he was going to watch this over and over again and imagine you were kneeling between his legs letting him facefuck you. He would never do that. “You can watch this over and over again and get better with time.”

“Oh,” you whisper. That makes sense. “But no one else will see this, right?”

Jaemin shakes his head, caressing your cheeks, and laughing when your eyelids fall close at the gentle touch and a sweet whimper rolls out of your lips. “No one, bunny.”

Your eyes look for Haechan’s consent again and when he smiles at you, your lips fall open again. When he starts moving inside you again it feels more comfortable than before, slowly getting used to the intrusion and his strength, and surely Mark’s fingers inside you are making the whole thing more enjoyable too.

More moans vibrate around his length as the two digits inside you curl and brush against a spot that makes your toes curl and your breath shorten. You don’t know what Mark is doing, but he’s so good at it because you know you never felt like this before.

You want to warn them that you feel the same sensation build up in your stomach again, but you can’t, Haechan has no intention to pull out of you when he’s so close, and the orgasm hits so good, you wouldn’t say a thing even if your mouth was free.

You think Haechan is going to let go of you but instead, he pushes deeper into your mouth, making you gasp for air through your nose, pressing your face so far that your nose nuzzles against the fuzzy layer of hair over his cock, and you almost choke when something warm and salty fills your throat. When he lets go of you, you gasp and are about to spit it on the floor when your boyfriend grabs your head and pulls you back by your hair.

“Swallow it,” his voice is unexpectedly deep and stern and it’s enough to make you obey him with no hesitation, no matter how wrong and dirty it all feels. “Good girl.” You don’t know what’s kicking in your brain but the way he’s demanding and then sweet as he praises you, it’s making your head spin and want more.

“What — what is — what was that?” You ask, squeezing your eyes, blinking some tears away.

Haechan grins, kneeling at your level to kiss you. It’s soft, like the usual kiss he gives you when you cuddle in your bedroom, and it feels… romantic. As if there aren’t three hungry gazes staring into you, imagining the worst things to do to you.

“That’s my cum, baby. Just like the one that is dripping out of you now.”

Your eyes wander away from his, too shy and conscious about the mess between your legs.

“It’s… it’s because you like me a lot?”

He nods, “And because you’ve been such a good girl sucking my cock.”

The vulgar words hit your core, and you expect to shy away but somehow, they make your pussy clench around nothing again.

Is your body seeking more? Are they going to give it to you?

“My knees burn,” you whisper, expecting Haechan to do something but you jolt in surprise when Jeno walks toward you and lifts you up.

“Should we finish this in the bedroom?” He’s holding you in his arms, roughly hoisting you on his shoulder as if you are a ragdoll but he’s talking to Haechan. You get flustered because your ass is literally next to his face and you flinch when he bites down on the soft, plump skin.

“No, the bedroom, no,” you cry. And they quirk a brow, looking between you and Haechan.

“Bedroom,” your boyfriend orders and Jeno swiftly walks toward the room.

“Jeno, no,” you cry uselessly, and when he opens the door, you want to die.

“Oh,” he whispers, smirking when he eyes the bed.

“So that’s what you didn’t want us to see?” This time is Jaemin mocking you, you get it by now that he looks sweet and gentle but under that façade hides a monster.

“Your teddy bear?” Mark asks amused, staring at the toy laying in the middle of the bed, between crumpled-up sheets. You really tried to make it go away alone, didn’t you?

“It hurt too much, I didn’t know what to do.” You confess even if they weren’t thinking at that, except Mark, of course. So they are even more surprised when they see a patch of the teddy bear slightly stained with your cum.

“Oh, poor baby,” Jeno coos, laying you on the bed with no care at all. “Your pussy was begging for so much attention you just had to fuck yourself on your plushie.”

Now that was too dirty for you to take. You had no idea you were doing that, it was just your habit to hug the toy with your legs and when you felt that the friction felt good your body started moving alone.

“I didn’t know,” you defend.

Jeno snickers, “I’m starting to think you’re playing a character. Maybe you’re not as innocent as you want to make us believe.”

“No — no, I swear, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it was bad.”

“It’s not bad,” Mark chimes in. “It’s never bad if it makes you feel good.”

You’d argue with that, if it was another occasion, if you weren’t spread open with Jeno between your legs, fingers playing again with your sensitive clit, and teasing your glistening entrance.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, starting to hate how his fingertips are only brushing over your sensitive skin and not bringing you any pleasure.

“Damn, already addicted to it?” Haechan mocks you and you don’t expect that comment to come from him. He had been nothing but nice with you tonight, apart from when he was shoving his cock into your mouth.

“It feels good,” you mumble, hiding your face with your hands but Jaemin groans and pulls your hands apart.

“I think we should keep these busy,” he says before winking at Mark. Your eyes widen when they both get rid of their clothes, cocks springing free, hard and thick, smeared with pre-cum at the tip. You can’t even look away because you are too amazed by them, and your gaze keeps bouncing back and forth between the man at the end of the bed and the one on your left.

You only lift your gaze when Mark climbs on the bed and kneels next to your face, well, until then, because when his cock hovers over you, you can only keep your eyes there.

“Hey, you look at theirs with more love than you looked at mine,” Haechan scolds, now sitting next to Jeno that is still teasing your dripping cunt.

You apologize feebly, wanting to tell him that you were too shocked by his before to have a positive reaction to it.

“Are you going to punish me?”

Haechan snorts but shakes his head. “I’m going to make you feel good. Show you how good my cock will make you feel.”

“My mouth again?”

“No, baby,” he smiles. “Here.”

Your eyes widen when his hand palms your cunt, Jeno is sitting next to him, giving him space to fit perfectly between your bent open legs.

“Inside?” It comes out as dry as your throat while your brain tries to think how it could fit in you.

He clicks his tongue, “Where else?”

“But it’s… it’s never going to fit.” You say when he starts rubbing his cockhead against your folds, collecting the wetness.

“I promise you it will fit,” he reassures you, wrapping the hand that isn’t around the base of his cock on your hip and caressing gently, a sharp contrast to the way he’s looking at you, hungry like a hunter that just got his prey after running after it for days. He’s drooling over you and he’s not sure he can promise you he’ll be gentle.

“Are — are you sure it will feel good?”

“Best you’ve ever felt,” he replies. “I promise, I’d never hurt you, you know.”

You gulp, looking at how big he is and then your tummy, thinking that it’s impossible for all that to slip into you and feel good. And then you meet his eyes, he’s looking at you in a way he never did and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

“Just the tip,” he whispers, looking into your eyes before he brings them back where your bodies are touching and sinks into you, pussy fluttering around his thick tip and already squeezing tight.

Your head rolls back and your jaw clenches as a gritted moan ripples through your throat. It’s nothing like Mark’s fingers. The stretch is triple it and even if it doesn’t hurt it still feels too much to take. You surely aren’t sure you could deal with it.

You’re about to protest, moving a hand between your bodies to stop him but he sinks into you without a warning, and the high, broken moan you let out shouldn’t turn him —them— on so much, but it does.

You only mumble senseless things, hiding your face between the pillow and Jaemin’s thigh, and they all wonder what will draw a curse out of your pretty, pure lips.

“Big,” you cry, as if saying it out loud will change the fact his cock is stretching you wide and reaching parts you didn’t even know you had until two seconds ago.

“You can take it,” Haechan reassures you, cooing against your ear as he leans in to kiss you softly. “I’ll take it slow, okay?” He has to try, he knows the others won’t take it easy on you, and he has to wreck you but not too much to the point you can’t take it anymore. He’s already scared you can barely take this, he wonders how you will go through more.

But it’s easier said than done and the slow pace of long and intense thrusts only lasts what it lasts.

“Hyuck,” your voice breaks, and tears start to form in your eyes when he picks up a rhythm you can’t keep up with, not that you’re doing anything, just laying there, half-naked, and looking over at the three men hovering you with lidded eyes.

You think you’re pitying them but completely different thoughts are running through their minds. Jaemin and Mark especially are having a ball seeing you like this, helpless and yet needy for more. You’re falling apart slowly, lips moving without emitting a sound as not even you know if you want him to stop or if you want more.

You’re so lost in the pleasure and thelittle discomfort that you forget for a moment Jeno is there too, and when his hand touches your thigh, you jump in surprise.

“It’s just me, angel,” he hums, smiling at you, and you nod, biting your lips to muffle the moans.

“Don’t do that,” Jaemin scolds you, slapping his cock against your lips to make you let go of them. “You will bleed.” He’s messing with you, playing you like a violin, fucking up with your brain more than he’s doing with your body. And yet, you fall for it, freeing your lower lip, not holding back anymore.

“Hyuck,” you cry again when he lifts your hips and slides deeper into you, “I can’t.”

“You can,” he groans back, holding your hips with more force and you’re sure your body will remind you of that hold for days. “You are taking me. Look at how good — fuck — you feel. Dripping, tight pussy sucking me in.”

Your mouth opens to complain, or to let out a moan, you’re not even sure anymore, but Jaemin shushes you. When the tip of his cock slaps your cheek you’re startled, meeting his gaze in surprise.

“Gimme your hand, bunny,” he purrs. And you don’t know why you find that petname so hot coming out of his lips, probably it’s the way he says it, the way his lips curl when he places it at the end of a sentence, so sweetly and yet with the intention of breaking you. You don’t know it, you can’t know it, but it’s like you sense it, and you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you.

So, you obediently give him his hand, soft fingers wrapping around yours before he brings your hand on his dick.

“See how hard I am for you? How much I like you?”

You nod, licking your lips, feeling your throat get dryer because Haechan is still fucking into you, pounding deep and hard and no, it doesn’t feel bad, but it’s too intense and you don’t know how to deal with so much pleasure. You feel like it’s getting to your head, like all your sanity is slowly being dragged out of you, your hold on control is growing thin and you don’t know what to do. You should panic, some sort of self-defense should tell you to run, but you don’t want to. You want to see how far this can go, how much more you can feel. Finally liberated to being pushed into a world you’ve been ignoring for so long, too long.

“Yeah?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Knowing we’re so hard just from watching you.” He starts moving your hands on him and when Mark does the same after grabbing your other hand, you turn to him. His eyebrows are knitted in concentration, and he’s lost looking at your pretty, manicured hand and how it looks so beautiful on his hard girth. And he wonders how you can be so delicate and pure even now.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark whispers when he meets your glossy eyes. And you’d like to let yourself get lost in the compliment but with your boyfriend fucking you feverishly, slamming into you after pulling all the way out, creating disgusting, lewd sounds, you can’t think of anything else.

“So fucking good for me,” Haechan moans, throwing his head back and biting his lips, and through wet lashes, you can’t help but feel happy because you are making him feel this good. He looks even more beautiful than usual, almost as if he has a different glow radiating from him, and you like to think it’s because of you.

And probably that thought makes you convulse more under him as you come again, squeezing him tight, the movements on Jaemin and Mark’s cock, coming to a stop as the pleasure overtakes you.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Jaemin grunts, slapping your cheek with his cock again. “Come on, be good and make us feel good. You’re not selfish, right?”

You shake your head, mind hazed by the pleasure that dims but doesn’t seem to stop.

“Good, be a good little play doll and make us feel good.”

“Open up,” Mark says, pushing his cock to your mouth. You think he’s going to do the same thing your boyfriend did before but you’re surprised when he only teases your mouth with his tip, and you’re even more surprised when Jaemin turns you around and does the same. They keep teasing you like this, and without them telling you, you eagerly start to suck on them, sucking more of their length in, cheeks hollowing as you shily try to do more to make them happy.

So you set your own pace, turning side to side with a pretty decent rhythm to suck Mark first and then pass on Jaemin. Blowing them with more strength every time that you hear their groans and moans grow bigger, you find that so exciting, and you think it’s a shame you can’t see their faces contorted in pleasure but sucking on them —united to your boyfriend’s cock — makes your eyes fall close in bliss.

And Haechan loses it completely, he pushes your legs up, pressing them against your chest, your eyes snapping open in surprise and because you can feel him even more.

“Hyuck, no,” you wail, tears dripping down your temples, drying in your hair.

“Shut up,” he retorts, leaning in, making his friends pull away, kissing you harshly, not caring that his friends’ cocks are so close to his face and were into your mouth just a few seconds ago. He needs you. “You feel so fucking good, babe. You’re making me so — fuck — so happy.”

You smile when he pulls away but once again Mark and Jaemin are on you.

You once again think he’s in pain, you think all of them are in pain, when your eyes shoot open and they have a frown on their faces.

“Close your eyes,” Jaemin whispers through gritted teeth, you don’t get why but you obey and you’re lucky for that because you feel hot liquid spurts on your face and chest and you gasp in surprise.

That’s the last thing it takes for Haechan to make him come. It’s fucking wrong but fuck, if you’re hot covered in cum, moaning as he stimulates you, chest falling and rising swiftly and nails digging into the sheets.

“Hyuck,” you cry when the warmth fills you up, coating you in white.

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you. “So good.”

You feel a thumb clean something off your face, well, only off your eyes because you can feel the rest of it stick on your cheeks, lips, neck and probably even forehead.

When you open them again they’re smiling at you, as if what just happened is the most normal thing in the world. But you’re not any different from them. You feel thrilled. You need more.

“More,” you plead and their eyes sparkle up.

“Move.” You don’t expect Jeno to yank your boyfriend away and come between your legs.

“Hey,” Haechan warns, glaring at his friend. “She’s mine.”

“Don’t share her if you want her all to yourself,” he retorts before sinking down and cleaning your face from his friends’ cum. You were fucking hot like that he wasn’t going to lick any of it off of you. You eagerly kiss him back when his lips meet yours, but it doesn’t last long, he has other plans and he wants to make them happen as soon as possible. You are a fucking dream, but you’ve not come true, yet, and patience is not a gift God gave him.

“Jeno,” you yelp when he rips your camisole off of you.

“Not my fault they weren’t eager to see your boobs,” he smirks, throwing the ripped fabric behind him. “Fuck, they’re perfect,” he mumbles, staring at your chest, fondling the skin, and then sucking on your nipples.

You don’t expect to be that sensitive there, but you are and the way his lips wrap around your bud and suck on it with passion makes your head spin. It feels so good that you don’t even realize you start grinding against him.

He grins against your skin. “Turned you into a needy mess already?”

Your eyes shy away and realize that neither Mark nor Jaemin are at your side anymore. But you don’t have time to see what they’re doing because Jeno’s lips are around you again while his fingers tease the other nipple and your brain shuts again.

Jeno’d love to make you come like this, he’s more than sure he could make you come like this. But he’s not so sure about your stamina and he doesn’t want to risk it. If he doesn’t get into you now he will go insane.

“Need you.” But it’s you the one that whimpers those words, catching him — them — by surprise. “Jeno, please.”

“Please what, angel?” He teases, he will drag nasty words out of your pretty lips.

Normally you would’ve stuttered and begged him to just get what you wanted but right now you’re desperate, his lips and fingers on you, the warmth of your boyfriend’s seed inside, Jeno’s hard cock grinding against your sensitive, hard clit.

“Please, fuck me.”

Their eyes stare at you in surprise and amusement, shocked and entertained that your shell is coming off, slowly, but all those walls are crashing down.

He groans and kisses you roughly again, you noticed that even if he’s rough, he’s not messy, and he likes to bite, a lot. On your lower lip, on your neck, and on the soft flesh of your boobs. But you find out you like it.

“Where are you going?” You panic when he rolls to the side.

He chuckles, “I’m not leaving you, don’t worry,” his tone is tender but there’s a hint of a mock in it. “Come here,” he pats his lap when he sits on the bed, kicking the teddy bear with his feet to have more space.

“Hey! Mister Teddy,” you complain, crawling on wobbly legs to fix the stuffed toy at the edge of the bed, hoping it could be safe from whatever will keep happening from then on.

“Mister Teddy?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Thought you were more creative.”

“I was ten when I got it,” you reply, plopping on the mattress next to it.

“Damn, he’s really living all your first adventures,” Jaemin laughs, looking at the toy briefly and not catching your glare.

“Come here,” Jeno calls you again, spreading his legs more, giving you space to kneel between them.

“I’m leaking,” you whisper, feeling discomfort when cum starts dripping out of you due to the position; hands and knees, ass perched up as you crawl to him.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to stuff you again.” The way he’s so vulgar about it makes your stomach twist in anticipation. You find something so hot about the contrast between you and them, even your boyfriend and Jaemin whom you always imagined were the calmest and most similar to you. It’s clear that this is completely different from the everyday world.

“Why are you still covered?” You ask timidly, kneeling between his open legs, but not dragging your eyes on his crotch, for some reason he makes you shy. You truly don’t know what to expect from him, one second he looks like he’s indifferent and one later it’s like he wants to eat you alive.

“Wanted you to unpack the gift,” he jokes, pointing at his black boxers and then at you with a nod of the head.

You lean closer to him, ass perching up, making the three men behind you groan, and you note for the first time that they sound so animalistic, like starved hunters that are just sweet enough to wait for you, their prey, to offer yourself to them. But you leave them in the back of your mind, delicate, manicured fingers, hooking in the bands of his underwear, pulling it down with the help of his hips lifting from the mattress.

If you were in a cartoon your jaw would be on the floor, and your eyes would be big, coming out of your skull, but you’re in the real world, and no animation can help you take what Jeno has between his legs.

You gulp, looking at him, finding an amused grin on his face. Oh, he loves that. But you love a challenge, and Haechan wasn’t that much smaller than him so if you took your boyfriend, you could take him, right? Either way, you didn’t care much how impossible that felt. You needed more. And you just seemed addicted to the feelings that sex brought along, throwing yourself into something you weren’t ready for.

“Do I suck you?”

“Honey,” he snorts, “I need more than your mouth.”

“But shouldn’t I lay? How are you going to fuck me like that?”

They totally weren’t used to hearing those words slip out of your mouth, and it was absurd how normal, clean, and innocent they still sounded coming from you. You were an angel sent on earth, there was no other explanation they could give themselves.

After the first shock, he shakes his head and signals you to crawl closer. “Come close, I don’t bite.”

You snicker because he bites very much but you do as he ordered.

“I want you to ride me.”

You tilt your head to the side, looking at him with a cute, confused expression and he has to take a deep breath not to flip you over and piston into you until you’re nothing but a moaning mess.

“Slide down on my cock and I’ll guide you for the rest.” He tells you instead, somehow gaining some composure back to hide how desperate he is to have you.

You hum hesitantly, he holds his cock up for you, and you slowly sink on it.

“Fuck,” you curse when he’s halfway in, already feeling like he’s splitting you in two, and you are soaking wet and have already been stretched by Haechan before. “You’re too much.”

“I’m in, angel,” he reassures you through gritted teeth because you are tight and warm, and he feels like a teenage boy about to come just by that. It’s pathetic almost, as if this is his first pussy and his body doesn’t know how to react. “Just bottom out, I promise it will feel good.”

You trust him, and so, sinking your nails into his shoulders, you reach the base. You decide to also blame it on the position but fuck, if he’s deep into you.

“Was I good?” You are eager for validation and everybody in the room takes note of that. Haechan already knows it, it’s a thing you have even on non-sexual occasions, but it’s nice to know you crave that even in bed. And the others two can’t wait to use it against you.

“So good, angel,” he praises you. “Now, move on my cock.”

You hesitate, trying to get what he wants. Feeling time pass by, sensation highlighted by the gazes that are burning your back. Somehow the fact that they are not all over you but patiently waiting and staring at your every move makes you a bit more anxious. “I don’t know how to do it,” you whine in a broken confession, voice cutting because he’s not moving and he’s already fucking with your brain.

“But you want to be a good girl, don’t you? Want to learn? You’re such a good learner, always been a good, eager student, I’m sure you can be a good student even now.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes, hoping to unfog your brain and focus on what you have to do. Not only you don’t know how to do what he wants but your brain is far gone.

“You are big, though,” you weep. “You fill me — fill me so well.”

Jeno’s nails sink into your skin when your wet insides clench around him. You’re not controlling your body and yet you’re driving him insane.

“I promise,” he huffs, throwing his head back, shaking his black hair out of his face, and then looking at you, “promise it will feel even better if you start moving. Remember what you did before?”

“When?”

“On poor Mr Teddy and Haechan.”

Your body sparks in flames of shame when he reminds you that, feeling guilty for having done something so dirty with your precious teddy bear and with your boyfriend in front of his friends. But once again, the needs you need to satisfy are making your body go in a different direction.

So you start grinding your hips back and forth, moaning lowly every time your clit rubs against his pubes.

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his lips. “Just like that, angel. Keep moving.”

You whimper when his hands wrap around your waist and Jeno starts fucking you on him, he starts slowly but then his slams get harsher. It takes a while to get what he wants, but you try to follow him as he guides you.

And soon you start to try different patterns, circling your hips, lifting your body up and down, just grinding, and trying to press in your brain what makes the both of you feel better. When you finally find it, and Jeno leaves you more freedom of movement, you feel on cloud nine.

“Fuck,” somebody moans behind you, loud enough to remind you that you and Jeno are not alone in the room. “Look at how good you are at this.” Only when more words leave his mouth, you realize it’s Jaemin.

“Do — do you like me like this?” You ask in a whimper, throwing your head back, the image of the three men pumping their aching boners appearing upside down in your eyes.

Mark would say that he loves you like this, but keeps it to himself, afraid of crossing lines that are not meant to be crossed.

“Don’t you see how hard we are for you?” Your boyfriend replies instead. “This is what you do to us.”

You smile, head moving to fall against Jeno’s forehead, happy with the answer you received.

“And you?” You groan. “Do you — do you like me?”

He groans, nose twitching as his face contorts in a frown. “Are you kidding? Don’t you feel how much I like you? Do I — shit — have to prove it more?”

“Yeah.” Your voice comes out in a whimper, his arms wrap around your frame and he helps you with your thrusts, and then he bites on your lower lip, pulling roughly before he lets go of your soft lips. “Pro—prove me how much you love me.”

Jeno starts sucking on your nipples. It’s loud and wet, and gets your cunt dripping around him so hard that another orgasm rips out of you before you can do anything.

“Horny, dumb, baby,” he mocks, slapping your ass cheek, grinning against your boob when you clench down on him at the impact. “Love the pain, don’t you? Love when I hit you,” another loud smack follows. “Love when I bite you,” his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breast. “Do you love when I pinch?” He asks, twisting your other nipple in his hand, your toes curling and your stomach closing in a knot again.

“Yes, love it so much, Jeno, please.”

“Good, keep being a good girl for me, shit,” he groans. “And take all I give to you. All the pain and all the pleasure.”

You think he has an addiction to your boobs because he never lets go of them, lips and fingers torturing them, causing more shivers to run down your spine. But you don’t mind, it feels so good that your brain starts slipping down a treacherous path where you have no control anymore.

And he thinks that too. He might be addicted to you, actually. Because as you bounce up on him, pussy sucking him with eagerness and dripping down his balls, boobs bouncing up and down, he gets lost in your face for a second. Long lashes falling shut on your cheeks, streaked with a messed-up mix of spit, cum, tears and mascara. Swollen soft lips parted in search of air, letting out the prettiest, softest, and most sinful sounds he ever heard. He can only think one thing.

Haechan is a lucky bastard.

But he’s not. So he better make the best out of this situation and fuck you more, maybe even make you miss his cock so when Haechan will fuck you again and it won’t feel as good as this you will think of him, how good he made you feel.

And in the depth of yourself you too wonder if anything else will make you feel this good because you didn’t feel like this before, brain dizzy and barely feeling your body, like you were watching from the outside and yet feeling every sensation.

“Gonna fill you up,” he moans, face buried in the crook of your neck, groaning when he sniffs you and even if you’re sweating, he can scent the delicate perfume you applied on yourself, so sweet and intoxicating mixing with your natural scent, driving him insane.

Haechan is a lucky bastard.

“Gonna give you all of my cum — fuck — fill you ‘til you’re dripping,” he groans, biting on your skin, making you throw your head back.

He’s about to ask you to beg for it, to push you even more, but once again the words come out of your mouth on your own.

“Give me all,” your voice breaks. “Give me all your cum, please. I want it, want it so much.”

They broke you.

That’s Jeno’s last straw, hips stuttering against you harshly, fucking you messily, moaning louder as you come too and your pussy clenches around him more.

“Fuck,” he groans when your bodies stop convulsing against one another. “You’re so fucking good at this, so perfect.”

You whine when he rolls you over, and then slips out of you, leaving you empty, gaping, and leaking. It’s humiliating being so exposed, or you’re sure that’s how you should feel, but your brain only screams ‘more.’

You don’t have the strength to say it, throat dry and eyes too heavy to even stay open. You blank out for a moment and when you open your eyes again you find Haechan staring at you.

“You good?”

You beam at him, a new glow spreading around you, and he smiles back before he leans in to kiss you. You feel hands on your lower body, but you let yourself get lost in this tender moment with your boyfriend. It doesn’t last much though because Jaemin has other plans.

“You’re so filthy, bunny,” he mocks as he pumps two fingers inside your sensitive cunt, pumping the cum in and then out, grinning dumbly at the lewd image in front of his eyes. Loving how easily your destroyed hole lets three of his fingers in.

You think he’s weird not because of what he’s doing but the way he acts about it, the way he’s been acting about it all night, but that still doesn’t make you find him unattractive or not hot. Probably it makes you underestimate him.

“Come here,” Mark calls, and you frown when he lays on the bed next to you.

“But… I’m tired,” you whine, legs shaking with a shiver since Jaemin is still rubbing his fingers against your walls.

“Oh, already?” He teases you with a fake-kind pout on his face. You flinch when Jaemin pulls out and smacks your pussy hard, sending electric shocks through your body.

“Spoiled brat,” he hisses, pinching your thigh.

“Want us to help but won’t do anything to help us,” Mark complains, giving you a daring glare you don’t really understand.

You don’t expect Mark to drag you on top of him, making you sit on his abs with little to no care, your muscles screaming in pain. “Princess wants us to do all the job for her.” He eases you up and makes you fall back onto his cock, a loud groan coming out of your lips because he keeps catching you unprepared. And because it seems that no matter how much you get stretched, your cunt still can’t get used to it. And you find out you love-hate this position.

“Is this how Haechannie treats you?” Your boyfriend sneers at the nickname, plopping on the bed next to you, staring at your fucked out face with an amused grin. He never imagined he would enjoy so much seeing your friends throwing you around.

“Pampers you.” Mark thrust up into you, leaving you breathless. “Touching you gently.” Another one. “Afraid you may break.” And another, even harder, knocking the air out of your lungs.

You hum, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes again, palms of your hands falling flat on his chest, feeling his muscles flex every time he lifts your ass up and down on him. Mark’s moving you so easily you should be afraid but your body tingles in excitement and your brain shuts down again.

“What a surprise you love being treated like this,” he mocks, spanking your ass, chuckling when your cunt clenches around him. “Does it feel good? My big hand against your soft, delicate skin, princess?”

You whine. The sweet pet name somehow makes you feel like he’s mocking you even more.

“Answer me,” he groans, cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him while his other hand sends another loud spank on your other ass cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is broken by sobs, salty drops following down swiftly, hitting his skin, too.

“For how long you planned on keeping it a secret from me?” Haechan asks, kneeling next to Mark and grabbing you by the hair so he can lift you up, pulling you away from his friend’s body. “Had to put on a show in front of my friend so I would snap and let them fuck you and ruin you, uh?”

“No — no, I — I swear, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?” His usual cocky smirk creeps on your boyfriend’s face as his hold in your hair gets stronger and drags an unexpected moan out of your lips. And he thinks that he’s going to have so much fun turning you into an even needier, kinkier mess from now on.

You shake your head, silently telling him with your eyes that you were honest before, that you never imagined that pain could lead to this pleasure.

“Come on, leave her alone. Don’t you see that she means it? She’s just such a good doll that learns so easily what we want from her. Aren’t you?” Jeno reaches you too, coming to the other side, turning your face to stare at him.

“I’m — I’m not a doll,” you cry, but in reality, you don’t mind being called that. You love dolls. They are pretty. And if they think you are one, you don’t care. It just feels a bit weird to be called one in this context.

“But you’re so pretty and love to play with us,” he pouts, kissing you slowly, cupping your ass harshly before he smacks you again. “You love playing with us, don’t you?”

You nod, falling backward when Mark hits a spot into you that makes your toes curl, and luckily you fall into Jaemin’s strong chest and arms.

“Careful, baby. Dolls can break.” You can hear his evil smirk but it still doesn’t prepare you for what he’s about to do to you.

The scream you let out dies in your throat when you feel him tease your rim.

“Damn, honey, I didn’t even push in,” he laughs at your reaction, feeling your body tense.

“I — I, what are you doing?” You turn your head around when he rests his chin on your shoulder and he’s smiling at you. Fucking evil.

“Filling your pretty ass,” Jaemin replies nonchalantly, batting his lashes at you.

“That’s… that’s…”

“Nasty?” He finishes for you and you nod, biting your lips because Mark is fucking up into you faster and Jeno and Haechan are sucking your nipples and you feel like you’re about to explode.

“But we are nasty,” he grins. If your brain was still with you, you would’ve told him that he is nasty, but you’re too far gone to bicker with him now.

But you still feel that that place is wrong.

“I don’t, I don’t think…” you bite your lips, eyes squeezing as you try to let out words that make sense. “Nothing should go there.”

“You think Nana would put something there if it shouldn’t? You think Nana would ever hurt you or do something you won’t like?”

You think about it, or pretend to think about it, because at this point your brain has no intention of collaborating, and also you really don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, telling you that what’s about to happen is even dirtier than everything else that already happened but you have no idea about it. So you trust him, even if no, you don’t know if he would ever do something to hurt you, because you thought he was nice and he’s surprising you more and more.

When you shake your head and arch your ass back against him, Jaemin smirks and winks at Haechan that is looking at the two of you with an amused smile on his face.

“Too good,” you whimper instead, not even worrying anymore that his wet finger — covered in lube or cum, or both, you’re not really sure about it — is prodding at your entrance and pushing in.

“Jae —” his name doesn’t come out of your mouth because everything that is happening to you is getting to your head.

“Shh, bunny,” he purrs against your earlobe, kissing it before moving to leave wet kisses on your neck. Why the hell is he so messy? “It won’t hurt you. I’ll prep you well to take my cock.”

“Your — your cock?”

“Yes, bunny, you’ve been so good, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” you repeat mindlessly, letting your body relax in his hold, strong arm wrapped around your waist, following the way Mark is moving you on him.

“Shit,” Mark moans, you’re squeezing him in every time that Jaemin adds another finger. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, shocked that Jaemin’s fingers are not hurting you at all, not even when you have Mark pressing into you from the front.

“Nasty princess,” Jeno groans, biting down on the soft, smooth skin of your breast, making you hiss. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this. Are you grateful for this?”

You nod, meeting his eyes, filled with lust.

“You are? Why don’t you thank us?” He teases, starting to rub your clit, flicking it fast enough to make you clench even more around Mark. “Come on, say thank you.”

“I… nghh,” you cry out.

“No, baby. Thank you. It’s easy, even a dumb, nasty princess like you could do it. You just have to repeat. Or are you so cock drunk you can’t even thank us for what we’re giving you? We’re taking care of you, aren’t we?”

You nod enthusiastically but still no words slip out of you.

“We took away your pain,” he grunts, cupping your chin and kissing you harshly, letting his tongue play inside your mouth. “You begged for us to help you and we did. Say thank you.”

You groan when you feel all of them move faster on a different part of your body, testing your brain to come up with two simple words. “Tha-thank you,” you breathe out, hand searching for your boyfriend’s hand and holding it tight when he locks his fingers with yours as his mouth keeps moving on your breast. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant sounding more like a plead for more.

“Good girl,” Jeno praises, biting your lower lip again before he kisses you roughly.

“If she was good she would fuck herself on me,” Mark growls and your glossy eyes fall on him. You are letting him do all the job and you can’t promise him you have the strength to help.

“I’m — I’m sorry,” you reply, hoping he can forgive you.

“Then start fucking yourself on me, if you’re really sorry,” he orders and he stops moving, leaving you to complain at the loss of pleasure.

You knit your brows, trying to find support on the other three men around you that are still stimulating you, and your hips start moving. You replicate what you did before with Jeno but now you find it even harder. Your body aches in pain and trembles in pleasure. And it’s all getting to your head. But somehow you manage to move, it’s like your body is moving on its own, it’s like it has already learned all the tricks they have been teaching you all night.

“See, you can do it if you don’t act like a spoiled, lazy brat,” Mark praises, throwing his head back.

When you feel something big and fat press against your rim, your eyes snap open and Mark’s comments slip into the back of your brain.

“Jaemin what are — what are you doing?” You cry out, voice choking in your throat.

“I told you,” he says, pushing you down, closer to the man underneath you, biting his lips as he watches your ass bounce back and forth on Mark. “Fucking your pretty ass.”

You totally underestimated Jaemin.

“Fuck,” you scream when he slams inside you completely and starts fucking you right away. Your body collapses on Mark and you hear him chuckle deeply against your ear.

“Nana,” you cry out, biting down on Mark’s shoulder, making him hiss, more in surprise than pain. He told you he was going to fuck you there, but you thought he was going to do it after, not with Mark inside you.

“Fuck, bunny, you’re made for this,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as his hands wrap around your waist and fucks deep into your other hole.

“Mark,” you whimper, tears flooding down your face like a river in full. It’s not painful like you expected it to be, it sets your body on fire, bliss running in your veins along with your blood, and before you can even notice you come again. It’s long and more intense than before and you feel like you’re about to pass out, but two arms pull you up. You don’t know who’s doing what, but you feel hands and lips all over you, kissing, biting, pinching. You guess the harsher motions come from Jeno and the gentle ones from your boyfriend but as you faintly make out their grins and chuckles, you’re not really sure about who’s doing what.

“You fucking love this, fuck,” Jaemin mocks. “Such a filthy doll, so nasty, so needy.”

“Are you going to beg for our cocks again?” Mark asks. “Gonna crawl around the — fuck — living room every time we come around here. Letting us use you like the pretty fuckdoll that you are.”

Haechan whispers ‘you wish’ but seeing how much he’s loving this night, he wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re his and you will always be, and a little fun never hurt anybody.

“Yes,” the word slips out of your mind without you thinking about it.

“Yes?” Jeno snickers.

“No, I mean — I mean, I…”

“It’s okay, baby,” Haechan whispers, tugging your hair again and staring at your wrecked face. “Nothing wrong with being our pretty toy. Nothing wrong with craving cocks so much after your first time.”

You hum, but no thought is actually crossing your mind. It’s like the more they fill you up, the more your brain empties.

And the strange thing is that you don’t mind. You truly love this feeling of having no power while they do whatever they want with you.

And the normal–every day–you would be surprised to hear you beg for more, using such filthy words. But right now, that doesn’t exist anymore.

“Please,” you moan. “Give me more. Uh, give me — give me your cum.”

Jaemin curses gutturally, throwing his head back before his forehead dips again against your shoulder. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.” He knows you’ll haunt his days and nights to come, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to look at you as he did before.

And as if you want to prove him a point, your hips start to grind on them, somehow finding the right pace to fuck against them while he and Mark keep railing you at their perfect rhythm.

You hear Mark’s moans get higher and slightly whinier, and when you open your eyes to look at him, you smile faintly, falling forward and planting your hands at the sides of his head.

“Fuck,” Mark groans, biting his lips to don’t bite yours. He can’t believe you greeted them some hours ago looking like the most perfect, innocent, well-behaved girl, and now you’re letting them destroy you and are still begging for more. His brain replays images of you before, in your pretty, pink nightwear, with your sweet, loving smile, a thin layer of rosé eyeshadow, and some mascara on your lashes, and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there’s nothing of it left. You look like a mess.

“Come here,” he encourages you, and you lean closer, a choked moan trapping in your mouth when his tongue lays flat on your cheek and he licks your tears away. “Gotta keep you clean, baby.”

“That’s hot,” your boyfriend groans beside you, and for a second, you think again if any of this that is happening tonight is normal. Do other boyfriends do this too? Did he ever do this with their girlfriends when they were dating? But you shrug it off because wrong or right, you don’t care. Mark is right, if it feels good, that’s all that matters.

And you feel the same, strong and violent sensation built up in your body. They are close too since their thrusts against you are messier and they are both squeezing the skin on your waist to have a grip on the pleasure running through them.

“Can fucking feel you,” Jaemin moans, pressing a hand against the small of your back, pushing you further down and making your ass arch up. You get he’s talking to Mark, and you find it weirdly exciting that they can feel each other through your thin walls separating them. “Fuck, bunny, you feel so good.” You groan and burn in shame when he spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your wrecked rim, adding to the mess of cum and lube.

“Nana,” you cry out his name and he could come only hearing that. It comes out so well from your lips, so sweet and pure while he wrecks you and does the most disgusting things ever.

“Is Nana making you feel good, bunny? Do you like how Nana’s cock fills your pretty, tight hole?” He coos, voice as sweet as the most temping sin.

“Ye-yes, so good,” you moan, some drool spilling on Mark’s shoulder, too fucked out to care about it and control your body. It feels too good. Head spinning and muscles shaking as you know you’re close again. “Please, I’m — I’m close. Fuck me harder,” you wail and they both groan, obeying. Your boyfriend looks at you after clicking his tongue, thinking you will make him go insane, and then meets Jeno’s eyes, looking at him as if he’s silently reminding him how fucking lucky he is to have you. And Haechan only grins, because he knows. He’s so lucky that you’re his.

Jaemin collapses on you, sandwiching you between his and Mark’s body, so closeted in that space that it could almost be claustrophobic and yet it makes you high. You love their skins on yours, heating bodies brushing together in a dirty and wet mess of cum, sweat, and so much more you can’t even tell apart. You love how raw this feels. As if you’re all running after a need you didn’t even know you had, chasing it for dear life.

The orgasm ripples through the three of you at the same time, loud moans, groans, and wet sounds fill the room. It smells like sex, the air feels so thick that you could cut it. And you feel boneless, the weight of Jaemin’s body pressing you flat against Mark, the shocks of the nth orgasm still running through your tired bones, the faint praises you hear coming from one of them, two, or three, you don’t know. Their voices mix up, just like their lips and hands on your skin.

When you lay there, gently turned to lay with your back on the mattress by Mark, too much cum dripping out of you, skin burning up, chest heaving swiftly, and wet cheeks, they think you’ve had enough. A weird feeling of pity screaming in the back of their minds to let you go, clean you up, give you some water and put you to sleep… in what bed they have no idea, considering the only safe thing is Mr Teddy.

But they underestimate what they truly did to you.

“More.”

They blink repeatedly, looking at each other to make sure none of them is mocking your voice and that’s the real you.

“Please,” you plead. “Need more. Need you. Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll — I’ll take all you give me,” you mumble, praying them with broken eyes staring at them one by one.

And that’s all it takes to make them jump on you again.

They broke you.

Stained your innocence.

Dragged any sane and pure thought out of your brain and turned you into modelable mud in their hands.

Anything they would’ve given to you, you would’ve taken. Accepting it with no second thought of how dirty or wrong it could’ve been.

And in fact, you don’t.

“Need to feel how good your pretty, little pussy is,” Jaemin says, sinking into your swollen and sensitive core. “So good.”

“Nana,” you cry, wrapping your hands around his shoulders when his cock starts rubbing against your velvety walls.

“It’s good, bunny. I know you love this.”

You sniffle, rivers of transparent and black tears staining your face, and he throbs inside of you, groaning into your neck when his head falls forward.

You look like a complete mess and yet, is not enough for him. So one hand slips between you and when his fingers rub against your clit, more tears start to spill from your eyes.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, “need to film this. Can I — fuck — can I film you, bunny? Can I film how pretty you look right now? Pretty and messy and dumb.”

You nod, expecting the flash to blind you when Mark passes him a phone, but Haechan turns on a small lamp at the side of your bed that tints the room with a warm light and is enough to light up your wrecked state.

He points at your face, caressing it, smearing the mess on your soft cheek, telling you how pretty you look, the pretties doll when you cry. And then he moves it where your bodies meet, the wet, squelching sounds and lewd images being captured by the camera of his phone.

“You’re going to make me so happy, bunny,” he whispers, angling the phone the best he can as he tries to fuck fast into you, and Jeno is so kind to grab it and film for him. They were only going to have one take and it had to be good. “Gonna think of you every time I’m in pain.”

A dumb, sweet smile paints on your face, and that’s what it takes to throw him off. After all, you still are the sweet, naïve, girl they are used to know. And he thinks that Haechan — he believes they won’t be so lucky to have you again — will have to break you every single time. And he wishes he was him so bad, so fucking bad.

“Gonna fill you up,” Jaemin growls. “You’ll be so full of us you’ll remember us for days.” He does as he promises, giving you what you asked for, cock throbbing hard into you as he let out longer moans as pleasure overflows him and you at the same time. He comes messily, hips barely moving against you as he empties himself inside and then pulls out, making his seed spurt on your thighs, and lower stomach.

You hum into your boyfriend’s mouth, and your brain spins faster at that. He’s kissing you so gently as his other three friends keep fucking you, teasing you and filling you with their cum as they like.

A moan ripples from your mouth when his fingers reach your cum-coated mound, you truly have it everywhere now, and he reaches down to move on your clit.

“Hyuck, no,” you cry, swallowing a scream.

“No?” Haechan raises a brow, staring at you with a tender-mocking expression. “Sensitive?”

You nod, blinking your wet lashes as your eyes try to focus on his beautiful face.

“You’re not sensitive for them, though. I think you can take me, can take your boyfriend.” He smirks, watching your smile fade when you get that he has no intention of having mercy on you. “Can you?” He growls, slapping your clit, making you nod and mumble a thread of ‘yes.’

“Good. That’s my fucking good girl.”

You don’t have time to recover from your orgasm or focus on the mess Jaemin and Haechan made, that you’re getting filled again.

“Shit,” Mark moans, wide eyes fixated down where he’s fucking into you, pumping the white mess in and out of you. “You feel so good,” he almost cries, squeezing his eyes to imprint in his brain the sensation of your cunt because he’s sure he never felt something so good before and he won’t ever feel something so good again — well, unless Haechan hits his head and lets them have another round with you, but he highly doubts that. And he also knows that the videos Jaemin took —is taking— won’t be enough, that his hand won’t be enough to replicate this, to replicate you.

“Mark,” you breathe out, glossy, bright eyes looking into his, letting him know how drunk on the feeling you feel, how it is too much, and yet never enough.

“Yes, baby?” He asks, cupping your breast, kneading and pinching your nipples.

Your hips buck up at his harsh moves on you, hands slapping against the sheets and moans coming out of your mouth like screams. “Feels good, so good.”

“Shit, I know,” he replies through gritted teeth. He knows you love this from the way your heat is gripping him tight as you probably came another time, he can’t even tell it anymore, it’s like you’re going through an eternal orgasm; cunt clenching, body squirming, nails sinking in the sheets under you and moans and curses coming out of your mouth.

Mark wants to make it last longer but your pussy is sucking him in, and he thinks you’re also sucking his life away, and he can’t hold it more, so he comes inside you again.

Your head rolls back and your nails dig into the sheets when you feel another cock slip into you, Jeno. He’s rough, gripping your flesh tightly, slamming you against him, lost in his pleasure.

And then they take turns again, and again, at this point, they’re not even fucking you, they’re just putting the tip in and coming inside, not even that deep as they watch the white, sticky substance drip to your ass, mixing with the one that is slowing dripping out of that hole.

It’s a sick thing. And when you think they can’t do anything worse than that, Jaemin surprises you once again.

Your eyes widen when you feel something soft and wet wrap around your pussy lips and with the little strength left, you take a glimpse at the man buried between your legs.

You want to ask what he’s doing but you’re too tired, too shocked, too…too… is too much to do anything else but let your head fall back and let him do whatever he wants.

“You’re disgusting,” Jeno comments, a grossed-out frown on his face as he looks away from his friend, walking around the bed to reach you on the other side, hard cock in hand as he positions over you, bending his knees on the mattress so he’s at your level.

You look at him with half-lidded eyes and whine when Haechan pulls away from you, leaving your side empty.

“Open up,” Jeno orders and your body follows his order in the blink of an eye. “Can let this mouth empty.”

Jaemin would love to eat you out more, but when Haechan taps his shoulder, he can only take a step back and wait for his turn again.

Your hips buck up when Haechan enters you.

“Fucking finally,” he moans, throwing his head back, feeling your warmth again. He’s not jealous of the others, he kept staring at them going at you for so long and he found it so hot. But he only had two orgasms at the start of the night and he needs to feel you again. “All stretched out and dirty. Such a messy baby. Are you my messy baby?”

You nod, choking on Jeno’s cock, lungs burning up as you feel like all your strength is being sucked —fucked— out of you.

“Fuck,” he hums. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this before, can’t believe I let you fool me.”

You don’t answer. You can’t; Jeno’s cock barely makes you breathe as he fucks your mouth with the same strength he fucked your pussy before, and your mind is too broken to let out words that are not slurred or moans.

“Didn’t believe me when I told you this would ease the pain —shit— and now look at you,” Haechan coos, hand reaching your neck, feeling Jeno’s shape on your throat. “If only you took it easier, babe —fuck— could’ve —ugh— could’ve had this long ago.”

You can hear the wet sounds of Mark and Jaemin’s cocks, jacking off swiftly, and you wonder how much more they have to give you and how it doesn’t hurt, because it’s starting to hurt you, it’s starting to truly feel too much. Pleasure getting unbearable, and yet, they seem to still have more.

Haechan pushes your legs up and the sound you make is embarrassing, but nobody in the room truly cares, is not the only dirty sound filling the room. And they are too caught up in their world to even worry about a puff of air and squelches of cum coming out of your used holes.

Jeno pulls out of you, and spit drools out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath.

“Hyuck, close,” you cry, looking at your boyfriend with tears-streaked face, Jeno’s harsh thrust triggering your tears even more. And the sight would be enough to make him come but he needs to try one thing before coming one last time.

“Hyuck, fuck,” you scream when he pushes into your rim, stretching your other hole again after it had relaxed. Why they never warn you when they fuck you there?

“Shut up,” he says, kissing you harshly, shielding you from Jeno that huffs in annoyance. “You took Jaemin, you can take me.”

You nod mindlessly, nails running on his back, leaving red marks behind, and that makes him fuck into you faster. He loves this new side of you, he loves it so much and he wants to see even more. Drag a beast out of you. Turn you into a hunter instead of a prey.

“Do it again,” he orders and at first you don’t get it but then your nails dig into his back again, scratching him more. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, throwing his head back.

A thought about why he wants you to hurt him crosses your mind for a split second but when the nth orgasm washes over you, your mind goes blank again. And Jeno uses your open mouth to fill you with his hard cock. You almost choke at the unexpected intrusion and your eyes widen when you feel two fingers dig into your sopping wet cunt.

Jaemin.

And then a pair of lips on your right nipple.

Mark.

Not only they are fucking you but they are fucking with you.

Do they plan on making you pass out? Because you think you’re really close to that.

You lose the grip on reality after what happens next, their moans get heavier and louder, cum spills on your face as Jeno pulls out of you, so sensitive he falls on the pillow over you. Your boyfriend comes soon after, the sight of Jeno jacking off on your face, painting your skin white, is the last straw, filling your ass, his cum mixing with Jaemin’s that was almost already all out of you. Mark would love to slip into you again but decides to go for another part of your body, using your limp hand to pump his painfully hard cock and come all over your breasts.

You think they’re done, but Jaemin has once again something in store for you.

Your feet plant against the mattress as your hips lift up from it when he starts eating you out, tongue entering your wrecked hole and lips sucking harshly on your clit while one of his hand keeps your body pushed down.

The others look at you two in a drunken, dreamy gaze, they feel too tired, they have no idea how you’re still taking the last thing Jaemin wants to give you. But you do, you’re still moaning, crying and trembling in his hold, chanting his name and curses.

And Jaemin gets drunk in that, slurping the mess on your cunt, leaving open-mouthed kisses, tongue lapping flat at your skin as he eats you out greedily, not caring about his, and his friends’, cum, and his fingers slip inside to push you toward the last orgasm. It’s intense, it freezes your body and makes you go slump against the mattress, whimpering and begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Jaemin groans, grabbing his cock and masturbating fast, ruining all the job he did to clean you up when he messily comes on your mound, on your thighs, and your tummy. But you’re still beautiful, in all that mess, in all their fucked-up fantasies, you still look so precious and pure. So he takes one last snap as he smiles at you, looking at him through lidded eyes, and he knows you’ll fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he hums, kissing you, licking off some of Jeno’s cum.

And they all think that too as, too tired to do anything, they collapse next to you.

All of you would’ve thought about the rest tomorrow morning when everything would’ve sunk in, for now, you are letting it drip.

hope you liked it!! let me know with comments, reblogs and asks if you want to ♡

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #mark smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #lee haechan smut #lee mark smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #requests

2K notes · View notes