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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

kinktober: ghostface

words: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, f masturbation, death/killing, blood, knives, f receiving oral, attempted rape (from not rafe), noncon/dubcon, p in v sex

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv

"why do you keep looking at your phone, y/n?" your best friend, jennifer, asks, leaning over to look at the screen but you quickly click it off, setting it face down on the table.

"it's nothing." you shake your head. "ive just been getting some texts from an unknown number."

"what do they say?" your friend asks, and then presses further when you keep your mouth tightly closed, "are they creepy?"

"a bit…" you shrug.

"do you know who it is?"

"clearly not!" you snap, the text messages have put you on such an edge. you don't mean to lash out on your friend, but you just can't help it. "sorry." you sigh, letting your head drop into your hands, rubbing your eyes with the pads of your fingers.

"y/n…" she sighs "i can tell how worked up you are, maybe just block the number?"

"yeah, maybe." you mumble, but you know that you're lying to her. it's too intoxicating, the obsessive attention that the anonymous texter gives you.

your phone dings and you jump, quickly picking it back up. you see something unexpected: a photo of yourself, sitting across the table from your friend, clearly taken just moments before it was sent, of course by the same unknown number. your head snaps up, scanning the tables on the other side of the restaurant, but there's so many faces you recognize along with this being the most popular lunch spot for college students attending your university.

"what is it?" jennifer asks. you almost forgot she was sitting across from you, attention solely on the mysterious texter. "y/n, is it the same number?"

"no." you shake your head, giving another glance around the restaurant. "just my ex boyfriend."

you look beautiful tonight. you read the text, speeding up your walk. you still aren’t replying, thinking it was best to let whoever was on the other end talk themselves bored, but they’ve continued with no response over the past week, showing no sign of letting up now.

are you scared? you pause briefly and look around. there’s no one that you can see. you turn up your pace into a light jog, regretting being out at night but needing to get from your evening class back to your apartment just off campus.

it would be a shame if someone took you right now. your heart is beating faster than ever as you break out into a full sprint, eyes blurring slightly with tears until you get to your apartment door, unlocking it quickly with shaking hands. you’re not sure you could hear someone walking up behind you with how loud your breathing is.

you rush in as soon as the door is unlocked, latching it behind you and then proceeding to draw all the curtains in the house. you run upstairs to your bed, needing the comfort of being under the sheets and locked behind several doors.

sleep tight, princess.

“did you hear?” jennifer asks, bursting through your door the second it’s unlocked.

“hear what?” you ask, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, knowing you need to head out soon to get to class on time.

“oh my god, it’s a tragic. a girl got murdered last night on campus.” “what?” your movements halt, turning to look at the wide eyed expression on jennifers face. “who?” “i don’t know, they’re not saying yet. they found her hanging in a tree! i guess she was really bloody because whoever saw her said they couldn’t make out her face.” “ugh, that’s horrible!” you say, feeling a shiver run through your body. you were just walking alone at campus late at night.

“but there’s good news! classes are canceled for today and all evening classes are moved to online until future notice, probably until they find the killer.” you don’t know how to respond to that, but at knowing you don’t need to head to class you do feel a bit of relief, even if the emotion is quickly followed by guilt. you close and relock the door, even more cautious knowing that there is a murderer on the loose along with your mysterious texter.

you sit down on your couch, curling your knees up into your chest. “do you think it’s related to that kasia girl who got killed last year?” “i mean it has to be, right?” jennifer plops down next to you. “what are the odds of two girls being violently killed and-” “okay, stop.” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your legs to quell the chills.

did you hear?

you gulp receiving the text. there’s no way anyone on campus could have missed the news, it’s all that’s been circling over the past three days, and you have no doubt thats what your mysterious texter is referring to.

yes. you type back, hitting send before even realizing that you were supposed to not be communicating back.

so lucky it wasn’t you. after all, i saw you walking that night. but i didn’t choose you.

your eyes widen. what does he mean choose? did you kill that girl? you text back quickly, hesitating only a moment before sending it.

yes. because i can’t kill you.

“and you say you have no idea who has been sending you these text messages, ma’am?” the man asks.

“no, they started out of nowhere, and i thought they were creepy but i didn’t think it was… if i thought it was the killer i would have brought it to you earlier.” the police detective nods, jotting down some notes. “and you give us permission to keep the phone as evidence?” “yes, god, i don’t want it.” you already jotted down your important contacts, and have plans to head right to the store after and buy a new phone, with a whole new number.

“okay miss… you do understand that if we find this to be just an elaborate prank that there will be serious punishment for wasting our time.” you sit back in your chair, shocked that the detective would even suggest that. “it’s not a prank. they’ve been texting me before the girl was even murdered, i don’t know how you expect me to have planned all that.” “hm.” the detective just hums in dismissal, setting the phone to the side of his desk. you assume he’s not even going to look into it further, but you’re glad to be rid of it.

“i can’t believe classes are still going on today. another body was just found last night!” jennifer says, smearing her fry in ketchup before sticking it in her mouth.

“he was found just off campus, i think that’s their reasoning.” you say, looking nervously around the university cafeteria. “not that i agree.”

“oh my god!” your other friend, stephanie, gasps, looking up from her phone. “it was scott moss!”

“the football player?” you ask, also pulling out your phone. you unlock it, still getting used to the slight differences from your old phone. you search his name, and true enough, the first article that pops up is that the second (or third? as the article questions) body to be found has been identified as scott moss. the first body got identified a few days ago, but you didn’t know the girl.

“this is fucking crazy.” jennifer says, reaching for another fry.

“this article says the police are saying that the knife used to kill the girl last year is the same one used on the two new victims!” stephanie reads out.

“holy fuck, do you think they’re gonna investigate rafe again?” jennifer asks, turning to look at you.

“rafe got cleared, right? i think it’s unfair to hold it over his head just because he got questioned by the police.” you say.

“please, we all know he only got released because of his rich daddy.” your phone buzzes, and you flick your eyes down to the screen, blood turning cold.

you didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?

“hey, rafe.” you mumble, sliding into the seat next to him, able to feel the nervous energy in the room.

“hey.” he says in return, eyes on the desk in front of you. it’s clear from the moment you walked in that people were purposefully sitting further away from him than normal in the large lecture hall. over the past year, the fact that rafe was ever questioned about the first murder was forgotten, pushed to the back burner by whatever new gossip was sweeping campus, but with the new killing spree, he was back on their radar.

“surprised you’re sitting next to me.” rafe says, hands gripping his pencil tightly.

you know people are bound to whisper about you next, but you want to show that you don’t believe rafe could do it. you’re not that close to him, but he was your lab partner last semester and you believe yourself to be able to tell when someone is a crazy serial killer or not.

“why wouldn’t i?” you question, giving rafe a small smile. “besides, who else am i gonna get notes off of for when the professor changes the slides too fast again?” --

you lay in your bed, wishing you could just go to sleep, but you’re too alert, waiting for something to happen, a noise or movement, but it doesn’t come. you pick up your phone, scrolling through instagram until you get bored of your repetitive feed.

your finger hovers over an app. you shouldn’t, but you do. you click open the text message thread, with only a single, taunting message sent so far.

hello.

you watch the screen for a response, surprised when they immediately begin typing back. miss me?

you catch yourself before you laugh. why did you kill scott?

why do you care?

you sit and think for a moment. i guess i don’t. you feel ashamed, but there is no judgment coming from the person on the other end.

i saw you on campus today. i like your hair in braids. wear it like that tomorrow.

you set your phone down on the nightstand, turning the screen face down. your sleep is constantly interrupted, waking up at every sound you hear, so by the time you drag yourself out of bed in the morning, it feels like you’ve gotten barely an hour all together, but still, when you head into the bathroom to get ready, you brush your teeth and then part your hair directly down the middle, braiding each side neatly.

your phone pings from the bedroom and you rush back in to look at it.

ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS: all classes and campus activity has been suspended effective immediately. common areas will remain open during the day, and we strongly advise all students to travel in pairs. a lockdown will be put into effect starting at 9pm every night, where all students must remain in their dormitories.

you head into the living room, clicking on the tv while typing out a text to jennifer.

“yet another murder has shocked the university.” you look up from your phone to watch the news report. “after linking the recent two killings of college students with the murder of kasia walters just over a year ago, a third murder has occured just last night, and we have exclusive details, including, an eye witness.”

you sit down on the couch, forgetting about your half drafted text as the news coverage reveals another classmate killed, again out in the open, but this time someone from inside one of the dorms happened to be looking out there window and witnessed someone dressed in all black except for a white ghost mask stab the girl multiple times.

they show the ghost mask, apparently a popular one that can be bought at tons of stores, already starting to brandish the serial killer with the nickname ‘ghostface.’

your phone buzzes in your hand. she had her hair in braids like yours.

is that why you killed her?

i killed her because i can’t kill you.

part of you wants to ask why, but a bigger part of you doesn’t want to know.

you find yourself with nothing to do all day except scroll through social media. you don’t even have assignments to work on with classes being canceled instead of just moved online.

you open all the curtains in your apartment to get some natural light in, but keep every door and window firmly latched. you know you should start some routine to keep you from going crazy and thinking about the murderer.

you move from the couch to your bed, because why sit when you can lay down. you sigh and open up tumblr, scrolling through your feed until you get to a smut of your favorite character. you bite your lip and open it.

as you read, your hand drifts lower, rubbing your pussy from over your clothes as the words on your screen turn you on. you let out a soft moan, thankful for the soundproof walls of your apartment, and the fact that the unit next to yours is currently empty.

no better way to let out some stress with a good masturbation session. you push your hand down under your pants and underwear, sighing when you get a touch at your bare skin, fingers finding your clit and stroking over it as your eyes continue to follow the fanfiction.

dirty girl.

you jump at the text, glancing around the room, eyes landing on the open window. you can’t see anyone through it, but apparently they can see you.

don’t stop on my account.

you feel more turned on than you should, continuing to slowly move your fingers underneath you sweatpants.

take them off for me. let me see your pretty pussy.

your cunt clenches around nothing at the words. you’ve never dirty talked with a man before, and really you’re not, responding with your body instead of replying to the texts. you stand up off the bed, knowing you shouldn’t, but you push your pants down, quickly followed by your underwear. you lay back on the bed, angling yourself slightly towards your window.

there you go. touch yourself again for me.

you begin to stroke over your pussy again, circling your clit as you wait for another text.

i would bury my head between your legs. i bet you taste delicious.

you let out a moan, moving faster.

i would have you cumming around my cock.

have you ever had that before baby? or are you a virgin?

you would never admit it to any of your friends, but you find yourself using one hand to type out the singular word: virgin.

the reply takes too long to come, you’re growing frustrated as your clit pulses.

i’ll be your first. cum for me, princess.

you toss your head back on the bed, flicking over your clit until you can’t hold it back any longer, cumming with a series of loud moans, spreading your legs wide to give whoever is watching you a good view as you cum, pussy clenching around nothing, practically inviting him in to fuck you.

you feel the shame the second your orgasm subsides, snapping your legs closed, standing up and shutting the shade, blocking out any view of your bedroom from the outside.

“no seriously, don’t you think a party is like the worst idea right now?” “no!” jennifer laughs. “it’s perfect. a bunch of people, all together. so literally nothing bad can happen!”

you’re reluctant to agree, but it’s too hard to say no to your best friend, so you cave and get ready with her in your bedroom, applying some light makeup before spending half an hour choosing the right outfit. as much as you don’t want to go, if you are gonna, you are at least gonna look good.

you arrive at the party just before sunset, of course taking place at a frat house. thankfully it’s only about a three minute walk from your apartment, so both you and jennifer could drink as much as you pleased without being worried about finding a ride back, you could practically see your front door.

“gonna get us some drinks!” jennifer yells over the pumping music, and you nod, trying to find a place to stand that doesn’t have someone bumping into you every second. there’s nothing like a murder spree to bring a college campus together as you see some very unlikely people to be at a frat party.

“here you go!” jennifer hands you a cup of clear liquid. you know better than to smell it before you shoot it down your throat, cringing at the burn when you pull the plastic cup away from your lips.

“that’s fucking disgusting!”

“i know isn’t it great!” jennifer yells in laughter, and you can’t help but join in the infectious sound.

“lets dance!” you say, feeling the alcohol moving through your system. the whole house is practically a dance floor, but it’s centralized in the living room, so you push through the outliers until you’re in the center of the crowd, laughing and jumping with jennifer as you move to the beat.

“i’m gonna get another cup, do you want more?” jennifer asks, having to yell practically in your ear for you to hear her over the music.

you shake your head, happy to keep dancing with just the lightest buzz. while jennifer is away, no doubt struggling to push her petite frame through the crowd, you feel a pair of hands on your hips. you turn to see who is trying to dance with you, frowning when its brandon richmond. he tried to hit on you so many times last year you lost count, but you turned him down every time.

you pull out of his grasp and put a couple of bodies between yours between dancing again, but when you see brandon following you throughout the crowd, you duck away, heading down the back hallway and out the door to the patio. you breathe in the fresh air, surprised to see no one else back here taking advantage of the quiet, even though the thump of base is still loud.

you lean against the fence of the balcony, looking out past the backyard, realizing you can see the back of your apartment buildings from here, including right into your bedroom window. a shutter runs down your back thinking about someone watching you through it, even though you tend to keep the curtains drawn shut.

“what’re you doing?” you hear a voice slur, causing you to jump, turning around quickly to see brandon standing in the doorway.

“just needed some fresh air.” you say, trying to pull the hem of your skirt down farther, regretting the outfit choice.

“i hope you weren’t trying to get away from me.” brandon says, and his words have you pausing to consider that he may be the mysterious texter, the killer. after all, he raged after you finally firmly told him no. he didn’t hurt you, but you were afraid he might.

“n-no.” you back away, but there’s nowhere to go except down the steps and into the grass, into the darkness of the tree lined fence, but you’re willing to risk whatever is in the shadows before you stay this close to brandon.

you turn and retreat down the steps, hoping he will give up and go back inside, but when you feel his hands on your waist you know he’s not giving up any time soon.

“stop!” you shout, feeling one hand move up and grip your breast tightly, squeezing so hard it hurts.

brandon turns you around in his grasp, leaning forward in a clear attempt to kiss you, when suddenly he stops, face going slack as he pitches forward, making you step out of his way so he falls on the grass instead of on you.

your eyes travel from his body, not moving, to where he previously stood. you take a step back before releasing a scream. it’s him, it’s ghostface, standing there with a bloodied knife in his hand.

he takes no interest in you as he bends over brandon, stabbing him again in the back, and that’s when you realize theres blood spurting out of him. on the third swing of the blade you finally realize you need to move, turning away and heading towards home. you run as fast as you can between the houses, keeping your eyes on your apartment, not wanting to know how closely he was following you.

you feel your phone buzz in your pocket and you wonder briefly if it’s ghostface or if it’s jennifer asking where you disappeared to.

you reach your door, thankful for briefly being in track in middle school for your ability to run fast. your hands fumble with your key, letting out a curse when you drop it from your hands shaking too hard, feeling like you’re in a horror movie as you finally get it unlocked.

you go to swing the door shut behind you, but it doesn’t latch. you fearfully turn around, realizing that his hand stopped the door from closing.

“p-please, i-” you back away as he steps into your space, your home, what was supposed to be the one place you were safe. he closes the door behind him, and you shudder hearing the click of the lock.

you turn and run towards the kitchen, hearing his footfalls close behind as you round the island counter in any attempt to get away, taking a cookie tray from off the counter and tossing it behind you as you run. it gives you enough time to head into your room, locking the door behind you.

you head immediately to the window, knowing your apartment is no longer safe. you open it up, thankful for once to live on the first floor. you try to pull yourself up and over, but it’s too high off the ground and you’re wasting precious time struggling.

you grab your chair from your desk, pushing it under the window and climbing onto it. you get one leg over the ledge, when a hand grabs your thigh, pushing you back into the room and onto the floor.

you scream as ghostface catapults through your window, smashing the pane shut behind him. locked in. you turn onto your back, trying to inch away as he begins to rant.

“i told you i would not kill you!” he screams. “i told you yet you still run from me!” your brow furrows as you try to place the voice. it’s so familiar.

“i killed that boy for trying to rape you, and your thanks is to scream and run?”

“rafe.” you let out a sigh in realization.

ghostface takes the mask and pulls it off his head, revealing a face that has your heart breaking. no. there’s no way he could be the murderer. the stalker.

“please don’t hurt me.” you whimper, using your bedpost to help pull yourself up off the floor.

“i could never hurt you.” rafe steps closer, reaching out to you, his glove leaving a smear of cold wetness on your cheek as he gently rubs it, and it takes you a second to realize it’s blood. “even though i want to.” “wh-why do you want to hurt me?” you ask.

“i love you too much. it’s the same reason i can’t.” rafe sighs.

“thank you.” you whisper, unsure if this is the right course of action, but not wanting to anger him. “thank you for saving me.” rafe gives you a smile, one that dazzles you even after knowing the truth. “i knew you would understand me. you were the only person who knew i didn’t kill kasia.”

your eyes widen, “you didn’t.” it’s not a question, it’s a realization.

“no. and no one believed me. i was in jail for a week, questioned for hours on end. nobody even cared to look at her boyfriend.” “i didn’t know she had a boyfriend…” you try to rack your brain to remember who she was often seen with, “scott moss.” “i knew nobody would believe me that scott murdered her. i had to get rid of him myself.” “and the other girls you killed?” you question, trying to back away from rafe but he just follows, not letting you get more than a foot apart.

“they reminded me of you.”

“no.” you let out a sob, unable to hold it back anymore. “no, it can’t be my fault.” “shh.” rafe tugs his gloves off his hands, dropping them onto your floor. he cups your face in his hand, making you look up at him. “don’t cry. i hate seeing you cry. it makes me want to kill.” that sobers you up quickly, sniffling as you try to stop the tears. “i’m sorry.” you whisper.

“it’s okay… can i cheer you up baby? can i make you feel better?” “how would you do that?” you ask, and rafe leans forward to show you, pressing his lips against yours gently. you hesitate, realizing how absolutely wrong this is. you just saw rafe kill someone, but the feel of his lips against yours has you feeling dizzy, starting to slowly kiss back.

as soon as you show some initiative, rafe becomes feral, mouth dominating yours in harsh kisses as he moves his hands to your waist, fingers slipping into the space between your skirt and crop top. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, keeping him pulled tight to you.

“get undressed.” rafe says, pulling away harshly. he pulls the costume off over his head, revealing plain clothes underneath it. you stand transfixed as he begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing golden skin. rafe looks up, realizing that you’re not moving.

he reaches around his back to pull something out of your waistband. your eyes widen when the silver glint of the knife shines in the low light, “i said, get undressed!” rafe yells, pointing the knife at you.

you’re quick to move, toeing off your heels, pulling your skirt down and tugging your shirt off. you look up to see rafe removing his underwear. your eyes widen at his hard cock. you unclip your bra, tugging it off and then followed by your underwear, leaving you completely nude.

rafe looks at you, eyes moving all the way from your toes to your head, examining every inch of your body.

“you’re so beautiful.” he steps closer, hand cupping your breast, thumb gently rubbing over the side of it. “i would have been soft with you tonight, knowing you’re a virgin. but that was before you ran from me, and disobeyed me. get on the bed.”

you don’t hesitate this time, laying on the bed, with your head against the pillows. rafe sets the hunting knife on the nightstand, draping his body over yours, and you can’t help the rush of wetness that floods your pussy when you feel his cock rest against your thigh.

“i’m going to make you feel so good. so much better than brandon or any other guy ever could.” rafe smashes his lips against yours, battling with your tongue. his hands grip your jaw, squeezing your face as he moans into your mouth, rutting his cock against your skin.

rafe pulls his mouth away, moving it to your neck, sucking harshly. you can feel the blood rushing to the spot, forming deep bruises as he moves lower to your chest, marking your decolletage.

“i’ve wanted this for so long. now i finally get to taste your skin.” he wraps his mouth around your nipple, forcing a moan out of you. you arch your back, pushing your chest further into his mouth. rafe sucks harshly, like he’s trying to leave a hicky there too, before he pulls away, moving to your other breast.

instead of sucking this time, he sticks his tongue out, flicking over your nipple until it’s completely hard before taking it in between his teeth, making you shout as he tugs on the hard bud.

“rafe! oh my god!”

rafe moans against your chest, moving slightly off your nipple before biting your breast, leaving a bite mark on your skin as he continues down, kissing and licking your stomach as he moves himself down the bed, settling between your legs.

“rafe, i-” you gasp out as he kisses your thighs. you try to pull them closed, not wanting his eyes on the most intimate part of you, especially knowing how wet you are. “i’ve never-”

“never had anyone eat your pussy before?” he questions, hands shoving your legs open.

“no, i haven’t, i-” rafe cuts you off by shoving his face into your cunt. his tongue laps over your entrance, his own moans from tasting you matching your own from the unfamiliar sensation.

rafe is quick to shove his tongue into your pussy, thrusting it in and out as you bring your hands down to grip his hair, eyes briefly flashing to the knife sitting on the nightstand, knowing rafe isn’t paying any attention to it.

“more, more, more.” you beg, eyes moving back to look at rafe. the need is too great to consider doing anything to stop it.

“gonna stretch you out with my fingers, baby.” rafe says, moving his mouth up to your clit. you let out a scream at the feeling, reaching down to grip his hair in your hands. you can feel rafe smile against you, sinking his teeth into your clit as he bites it.

you squirm under the harsh feeling, it’s just too much, but he won’t let up as he pushes the tip of his finger against your puckering entrance, briefly circling it before shoving the digit inside in one firm push. your back arches off the bed as he lets go of your clit with his teeth, stroking over it with his soft tongue.

his finger pumps in and out of you, and you spread your legs wider, giving him more space to abuse your cunt as a second finger pushes in along with his first. rafe looks up at you, wicked smile on his face, “for a virgin you’re certainly acting like a slut.” you whine, feeling tears come to your eyes. “it feels too good.” “i know baby, i promised i’d make you feel better and i’m doing it, right? do you feel better?” “yeah.” you breathe out, his head dropping again to suck harshly at your clit, “yes! oh my god, rafe!”

“call me by my other name.” rafe says, only briefly pulling away from your pussy to speak before continuing to attack your clit.

you shake your head no, but rafe just gets a determined look in his eye, somehow managing to fit a third finger inside of you, stuffing your cunt full as it squeezes tightly around them, his fingers angling upward to hit the spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

rafe pulls his mouth away, thumb quickly taking its place over your clit, the rough pad rubbing harshly, tucking underneath to rub your most sensitive spot, and you can’t hold back any longer, as much as you try, “ghostface!” you shout, wetness flooding from your pussy and soaking his hands and the bed as you cum, entire body shaking as the sensation overwhelms your body, vision going black as you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing rafes laugh echoing throughout the room as he finger fucks you through your orgasm.

he pulls out suddenly and you can’t help but whine at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing. you blink your eyes open to see rafe kneeling between your legs, using the wetness from his hands to stroke his cock, coating himself in your slick.

“are you going to fuck me?” you ask, suddenly afraid of his size hurting.

“i’m sorry, princess.” rafe says, draping his body over yours, rubbing his dick against your messy cunt. “i would have been so gentle with you if you’d just behaved for me tonight.” “i’m sorry, rafe, i promise i’ll be good from now on, please go slow.” rafe frowns, like he’s seriously considering your pleas for a moment before he shakes his head, placing an elbow on one side of your head, reaching down with his other hand and lining himself up with your entrance. you breathe deeply, trying to keep your body from tensing, knowing that being relaxed will make it easier.

you cry out as rafe pushes his cock inside of you, not giving you any time to adjust as he immediately begins thrusting in and out. you watch as the eyes roll back in his head from finally being inside you.

“you’re so fucking tight, my little virgin.” rafe laughs, but it turns into a moan as he looks down at where his body is connecting with yours. “not a little virgin any longer though, huh?” rafe is bringing his entire body weight down with every thrust, and even though the stretch was painful at first, it just feels good now, the way his skin rubs against your clit every time he presses deep inside of you.

you can’t help it, when he pushes in and grinds his hips against you, your cunt flutters around his cock, squeezing it tightly, completely involuntarily from how good it feels.

“god, fuck!” rafe shouts out, making you flinch in fear.

“i’m sorry.” you whimper, eyes wide as he looks down at you, unable to read his emotions.

“you’re too fucking good.” rafe groans, hand coming up and gripping your throat, squeezing it tightly as he looks down on you. “i wish i could just fucking kill you.” your breathing is restricted, black flaring into your vision as rafe holds you by your throat, using it for leverage as he takes you repeatedly.

you try to form words, try to call out for him, and just as you start to slip into unconsciousness, rafe lowers his hand to your breast, gripping the skin there instead as you take in large gulps of air.

“i told you i wouldn’t kill you.” rafe says with a grunt, smashing your lips together in a kiss that steals your air just as much as his hand around your neck.

“it feels so good.” you cry, pleasure sparking as he pulls at your nipple before switching to the other one, his cock pushing against your sweet spot with every thrust.

“yeah?” rafe laughs harshly. “gonna cum on my cock? i told you that you would baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t-” you sob, tears flowing down your face, unable to hold back your orgasm even though you’d like to. your entire body shakes as rafe is unforgiving with his thrusts, bending and licking at your face, collecting the salty tears from your cheeks with his rough tongue.

“cum for me.” rafe grunts, pulling away to kneel between your legs, pulling your hips up off the bed to keep a deep angle as he smashes into you. “i said, cum for me!” the anger in rafes voice pushes you over the edge, scared of what he will do if you don’t follow his directions, your high washing over you, and for a second you feel like you’re floating over your body as pleasure takes over, until the sharp pain of overstimulation greets you as rafe continues to fuck you.

“please.” you try to shove him away, but he just smacks your hands away like they’re nothing more than an annoying little bug. you try next to squeeze your thighs together, but it clenches your sore cunt at the same time, making rafe moan.

“gonna cum in you.” rafe says, moving a hand to your clit, rubbing over it harshly with his palm.

“stop, stop!” you shout, your back arching and heels pushing against the bed as you try to get away from it, the overwhelmingly good feeling turning quickly to displeasure.

“never gonna stop, baby.” rafe grinds his dick inside of you, not caring for your pleasure. “now that you know who i am, i’m going to have to keep coming back here every night and fucking you silly so you can’t tell anyone.” “i won’t tell, i promise.” you try to look at rafe, but your tears cloud your vision. “i promise, rafe, please, just stop.”

you know your words aren’t what convinces him, but rather your pussy squeezing his cock, causing him to shoot his load deep inside of you as he moans, keeping your hips pushed firmly against his body. you whine as you feel him flood your insides, of course he didn’t use any protection, and you’re not on birth control, but you can’t even begin to think of the implications as long as rafe kneels over you.

“good girl.” rafe hums, patting your lower tummy as he slowly pulls out, cum falling in dollops onto your comforter.

“r-rafe.” you whimper as he lays down next to you.

“shh, baby.” he pushes your hair out of your face, leaning over your body and giving you a light kiss on the lips. your eyes fluttering closed in pure exhaustion. “i told you i won’t kill you. go to sleep. i’ll be here in the morning. i’ll always be here.”

you don’t protest as rafe pulls you into him, your body is too tired to move away from the murderer. you rest your head against his chest, still slick with sweat from fucking you.

“are you going to keep killing?” you ask quietly. you’re unsure if he hears you, as the minutes tick by, the silence of the room now deafening. “i either keep killing them or i kill you.” rafe finally says, making you shudder. “which would you rather it be?”

guilt pangs in your chest as you whisper your response, “keep killing them.”

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lale-txt · 4 months

Text

❉ confessing to you w/ Geto, Toji & Shiu

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏: Gojo, Nanami & Higuruma

a/n: reader is gn! obviously i lied when i said that i won't write a part 2 for this, but here we are. the scenarios plagued my mind and i had to get them out. both Toji's and Geto's part turned out a little sad and angsty, but that's what you get with those tragic chars, i guess.

❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji doesn’t confess. Deep, deep down he fears that he might put a curse on you if he speaks what weighs on his heart.

You gotta forgive him, he’s a burned child.

He’s afraid that you’re gonna vanish once he says these words out loud; without a trace, making him wonder if you were merely a fever dream. But you’re here, next to him in the dark, the heat of your body seeping into his when you roll over in your sleep and cling to him. He has to keep you safe, it’s what his life revolves around.

Toji’s hands are surprisingly gentle when he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You wouldn’t think that the same hands were covered in blood only a few hours ago. Some days he wouldn’t stop scrubbing them until you wrapped yours around his, giving him that look that makes his heart flinch. There’s no fear in your eyes, only compassion and a calm adoration, enough to make the lump of unsaid words in his throat swell. Sometimes he wonders if he’s gonna suffocate on those one day; if you’ll be able to forgive him for loving you, for touching you with those bloodstained hands, for engraving himself into your being.

He hopes you know. You do, don’t you? You wouldn’t curl up besides him otherwise, tangled in sheets he’ll never stay too long because he fears his world will melt down to just the two of you. So he keeps his gun on the nightstand and one foot out of the door, but his eyes will always dart back to your sleeping figure. You mumble out his name in your sleep and Toji responds by pulling you closer to him, only for a moment, holding his breath when you stir awake for a heartbeat.

Maybe he can love you in between.

In those split seconds when you’re not asleep but not awake either; neither dreaming nor conscious. Not in this life, not in the next one. But in another life, when the stars have aligned and lead you back into his arms. Maybe he can hold you without worrying about staining your soul, your heart; maybe then he can kiss you with the absence of fear. Until then he’ll bite his tongue till he draws blood, choking on the words he chose not to say.

You will forgive him, won’t you?

❦ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

In the dark and hazy mind of Geto, you’re the golden light that always guides him back to life. Even though fears he’ll dim you once he encases you, he can’t stay away from you for too long, your warmth way too addicting to him. You never push him away, instead you open your arms to embrace him. It’s as if you’re blinded by your own light, choosing not to see the sins he had committed because it would mean you’d have to stop loving him, and that would mean your whole world would simply fall apart; it’d mean Geto would fall apart.

Geto never asks for much. He did once and maybe that’s the heaviest burden he has to carry; that night when he showed up at your doorstep, asking you to leave everything behind and come with him. It was selfish, he knows that much. But how could you have denied him anything, when both his voice and heart were close to breaking, when he mumbled your name like an apology, his hands trembling till the moment you wrapped yours around them?

It’s too late now, and saying those words out loud now would feel like a binding vow, destroying you in the end. He can’t do that to you. Not to the person who saw the core of his soul and still chose to stay by his side, over all these years. Not budging, not complaining.

An unconditional love with eyes closed. A black hole where his heart is supposed to be, from dusk but never to dawn; while you’re burning brighter than a thousand suns. Maybe he has always been in your orbit, inevitably drawn to you.

When Geto trails kisses from your fingertips to your wrists, he can’t help but wonder when the day will come when he’ll slip through these fingers and plunge into darkness. He imagines your desperate cries and the scratch marks on his skin when you attempt to pull him back, back to the light, back to you. One day, it will be too late, he’s sure of that. His end won’t be a kind one.

All he can hope for is your forgiveness when he places his bleeding heart in your open palms, and that you’ll swallow him whole like he did with the burden of never being able to openly telling you how deeply, madly he loved you.

❦ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐔

Whenever he pulls up in the driveway, Shiu can’t help but wonder if you’re gonna be there, waiting for him at his doorstep with that mischievous grin of yours. You’re just a neighbor who he occasionally shares a cigarette with, he keeps telling himself, knowing it’s a full blown lie at this point.

You’re tugging at his heart strings, night for night. Sometimes the thought of you just lying a few meters away from him, on the other side of a wall, drives him insane. You should be here, in his bed, in his arms. His sheets should smell like you in the morning, not like this creeping loneliness. Yet he never invites you inside and you never dare him to, like a stray cat tiptoeing at the edge of an open door, hoping for sweet treats and head scratches. It’s a game you’re both playing.

“My sweet,” he mumbles in that raspy voice you’ve learned to love so much when he spots you sitting at your familiar spot. Without hesitation he takes off his suit jacket and puts it around your shoulders. He never asks how long you’ve been sitting and waiting there for him, but he can easily tell from your cold fingertips when you hand him the lighter. Just a neighbor.

Inviting you in would mean something more than just opening the door. Within his profession, you don’t do love. There’s simply no room for it. Affection is exchanged through bundled yen notes and comes with fake laughter and lots of regret and headache in the morning. It’s just how things go. It’s the life Shiu chose for himself.

So why did his heart yearn so much for you? He should break this up before it even gets started. But he cannot, not when you inch closer while you talk, until your knees and your shoulders are touching, and the smoke from your shared cigarette is blown from lips to lips, as if you’re both testing just how close you can get before the resilience crumbles.

Maybe a kiss won’t hurt. Shiu knows that the lies he tells himself are piling up at this point. Of course it will hurt. A simple kiss won’t satisfy him, he’ll always find himself craving for more of you. A kiss first, then waking up by your side while you’re wearing his shirt that hugs your figure so nicely and next thing he’ll catch himself staring at the displays of the jewelry store, thinking which ring he should get you.

No, he can’t do that. He shouldn’t. And yet still, he cups your face so gently, lifting your chin up and catching your gaze. So let it hurt, he thinks to himself, before leaning in to kiss you, softly and deeply.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #shiu x reader #toji fushiguro #shiu kong #geto suguru #toji fushiguro x reader #shiu kong x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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hyunsvngs · 7 months

Text

kinktober !

kink: knifeplay

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 3k

knifeplay: consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of stimulation.

It was perfect. You had fake blood all over your room, staining your once blue sheets, but the costume was perfect.

For Halloween, your friends had decided to host a party at one of the dorms. You and your best friend, Jeongin, had decided it would be the best idea to dress up as Sidney Prescott and Ghostface. Your costume was quite easy - you already had an old denim jacket you could cover in blood, and a basic lilac top to go underneath it. When put together with a simple black pair of jeans, you felt completely ready. Your costumes were going to be the best.

The Instagram pictures would be amazing, too, you decided while walking to the party. You didn’t have a long way to walk, and it was quite amusing listening to the kids screaming for candy outside people’s doors - but all you could hope was that one of the members of 3Racha had actually cleaned the dorm this time, and not left it all on Hyunjin.

Music was already booming when you arrived, reverberating around your sober brain and making you wince. Would you regret coming here?

You realised you really did regret it, when the front door swung open and you were met with fox-like eyes in a… a fucking Pokemon trainer costume. Felix emerged from behind him, sharp yellow ears perched on his head and his cheeks covered in red.

“Listen,” Jeongin began, gloved hand reaching out to you. You sighed, shutting your eyes. “It was Felix’s idea. Look at him. He’s really convincing, and I’m sorry I didn’t text, but Chan’s put this stupid no phone ban on and-”

“Look!” Felix chirped, and when you finally saw him… well, you understood what Jeongin meant. He was in yellow dungarees, tail wrapped on a string around his waist and little ears bobbing with his glee. When he looked at you, his face fell. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you guys have something planned, or-”

“No, not at all, Lixie,” You murmured, pulling him in for a hug. He really was so cute. No one could resist him. “I’ll find my Ghostface somewhere.”

Felix nuzzled into the hug, wrapping his arms around you, before he was squealing. “Seungmin’s dressed up as Ghostface! Oh, Innie, did you plan this?”

You blinked, turning to Jeongin. Seungmin was your arch nemesis, but only purely on the basis that you both had some heavily unresolved sexual tension. Jeongin wouldn’t do this to you - or so you thought, because when you looked at his face, he was looking extremely guilty. “I know you have some… issues, but it needs to end now. It’s making things awkward, and, and… you can take pictures together, y’know? Then be friends,” He was mumbling, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. His Pokemon hat obscured most of his face, but you could still see the pout on his lips. Fuck this. You had the two sweetest men in front of you apologising, expecting you to be angry at them, but even you weren’t that mean.

You sighed, finally pushing past the two figures to enter the party. You were immediately attacked by a black plastic streamer dangling from the ceiling, and you swatted it away with a grunt. “It’s fine. Let’s do the pictures, then.”

It had always been the plan - to take pictures all together before the party really got into full swing. You had a feeling you’d been a little late because there were already quite a few people there. Still, you diligently walked into the kitchen behind Felix and Jeongin anyway, where everyone was standing around, conversing.

There he was. Ghostface mask pulled halfway off of his head to reveal dark, menacing features and a black cloak draped over his slender figure. Chunky black boots made an echoing noise as he tapped his foot impatiently on the tile, sipping out of a glass with one gloved hand and the other holding - a knife. It glinted in the light as he spun it around with his fingers, playing way too comfortably with the blade. Oh. Oh, no. Someone was playing a practical joke on you.

“Is that knife real?” You squeaked, and Seungmin turned to you with a glare. “Like, it’s not a prop…? Why do you have a real knife?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, then his lips were curling upwards with a smile. “To finally kill you with.”

“Haha, that’s so funny,” You deadpanned, but half of you was considering if he was being genuine about it. It wouldn’t surprise you - he was a sadistic fuck, always had been since you met him. It was why you wanted him so bad. “Let’s take these pictures. I’m already over it.”

Felix fiddled with his camera, flicking off the lens cap and trying to get it in the perfect position on the counter. You scurried in front of Seungmin as he walked over after placing his cup aside. Once Felix had set the timer, he ran in front of the lens and clutched onto Jeongin. Oh, yeah. What was Seungmin supposed to do, given that you were matching?

You had your answer quickly. With one gloved hand, he pulled his mask down and pulled you into him by the waist, and then he was positioning the knife at your exposed collarbone. It nipped teasingly, the blade threatening to draw blood. You looked down in shock, only to see Seungmin’s hand confidently holding the handle - god, was he skilled with this? He hadn’t killed people, hopefully, but… what if he was into something like this?

Wetness pooled in your panties at the thought. It’s a kink straight out of your deepest, darkest desires. The idea of being too scared to move in case the knife bites at your skin, dripping crimson liquid down your body only to be lapped up by the blade again… yeah. It was hot, and for some reason, with your fake-enemy pressed against you, it was even hotter. You didn’t even blink when the flash went off, too focused on trying to keep your breaths even.

Seungmin dropped his hand once the picture was taken, and then he yanked the mask back again. He was staring at you with a bewildered expression, but he looked somewhat impressed. Pulling you to one side by your arm, he gripped your waist again, trapping you against the wall so he could whisper into your ear. “Did you get turned on when I held that knife to your neck?”

“No, what’s wrong with you-“

“I heard you holding your fucking breath,” Seungmin hissed. “That’s fucking insane, you know? Dressing up as Sidney and then getting all… like that. It’s like you wanted me to do it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Seungmin’s eyes flitted around your face. “I was actually meant to match with Jeongin, so maybe I wanted him to.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Seungmin scoffed, rolling his eyes. He pinched his temples, and then he sighed. “I know you want to fuck me. God, I want to fuck you too, so bad. I’m sick of playing this stupid push and pull when I could be upstairs fucking you with this knife to your neck right now.”

Your eyes widened. You let out a puff of air, trying to find the words to say, but you only noticed that fuck, Seungmin was awfully close all of a sudden. His breath was heavy on your burning cheeks. When you looked around the room, you could see that no one had noticed the two of you - Felix was too busy still jumping around and Changbin and Jisung had dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. You wanted to coo at Changbin, his bulging arms so adorable in the little green dress and wings, but you were definitely more engrossed in what Seungmin had to say.

“The party. We can’t leave, you know?” You finally spoke, and Seungmin pulled back. You wanted to cry. He looked around the room, nodding, before he was pulling the mask back onto his face and obscuring his annoyingly perfect features.

“Half an hour. Jisung’s room, upstairs. Is that alright with you?” His voice was muffled, and you had to crane your head a bit to hear him. You nodded nonetheless, and he gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd of dressed up men.

You sighed heavily. This was about to be the longest half an hour of your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung’s room was chaotic. You had literally no idea why Seungmin had decided on his room out of everyone’s - surely Hyunjin’s would be better, or even Chan’s with the mood lighting? You opened the door anyway, entering the small room and stepping over piles of clothes to lay back on the bed. At least the bedsheets were cleaned. Jisung’s lamp was the only source of light, leaving the room basked in a creepy orange Halloween atmosphere. It definitely fitted the setting.

It had been exactly half an hour. Seungmin was late. Was he ever late? In your whole pseudo-friendship, you were sure he’d never been late, and-

The door burst open and a masked figure emerged. You jolted, sitting upright on your hands and blinking at the man in costume. It briefly crossed your mind that you couldn’t even be sure it was Seungmin, and then he was tearing the mask off, throwing it aside.

“It’s still me,” He said, tone soft. Was he a mind reader as well as a borderline psychopath? You nodded, wiggling forward on the bed when he sat across from you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Did you bring the knife?” You responded. Seungmin burst out laughing, and then he was bringing it out from his jean pocket, beneath the cloak.

“You are very fucked up. Has anyone ever told you that?” He murmured. You stared at his gloved palms as he threw the knife aside, moving on the bed to pin you down against the mattress. You wiggled impatiently, spreading your legs to allow him between them. Your chest heaved, staring up at him with doe eyes as he blinked down at you.

“‘M not fucked up,” You mumbled, pouting. Seungmin chuckled.

“What was it Billy said in the movie again? ‘It certainly fucked you up, it made you have sex with a psychopath’? Is that not what’s happening right now, baby?” His breath was hitting your face again, and you just couldn’t help it this time. With one hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him down, pressing your lips against his in the filthiest kiss you’d ever shared. Seungmin groaned, hands meeting your waist and delving into your mouth with his tongue. You let him nibble into your bottom lip, let him nearly draw blood with his teeth until you were whining, bucking your hips up for more.

You whined, chasing his lips for more kisses. You heard fabric rustling, and then Seungmin was pressing an ice cold blade to your neck. You shifted immediately, laying back against the pillow and looking up at Seungmin obediently. He just smiled, appearing borderline menacing in the dim lighting of the room. You were so fucking wet.

“You do get off on this,” Seungmin mused. He leaned back on his ankles, letting the knife drag down your body. With a clean swipe, it was cutting through the fabric of your tank top and leaving you in just your bra. “Should I make you bleed, hm?”

“You can- you can do anything you want, Seungmin,” You sighed, arching your back to get more of the feeling of the blade against you. Seungmin bit his lip, dragging the blade down to your jeans. He wouldn’t be able to cut through that fabric - it’s too thick, he’d need something sharper. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head and then he was shaking his head, unbuttoning your jeans and yanking them down your legs. They balanced precariously on one ankle, and you kicked them off before eyeing Seungmin up and down. “Are you… gonna get naked, or?”

“I have different plans for tonight,” Seungmin replied quickly. He gripped the knife firmer this time, until he was dragging it down to your underwear. You knew you were wet, and you shut your eyes and moaned loudly when he pressed the blade into the wet spot forming in the fabric. You thanked every god that the music was still just as loud as earlier. “I’m going to finger you and play around with this knife. I don’t think you could handle more tonight.”

He was right. Another thing that irritated you beyond belief was the fact that Seungmin seemed to read your mind. First with your silly knife play kink, and now with the fact that you definitely couldn’t handle full blown sex tonight. You would’ve tried, and gotten yourself all fuzzy over it - but he knew better.

“Okay,” You agreed. He hummed once more, and then he hooked the blade into the lace of your underwear, cutting them off of your body. He was a bit heavy handed though, and your legs thrashed when the blade nicked your skin just a little, causing a small crimson red cut to bloom on your hip bone.

“Oh, would you look at that?” He ogled the cut, running his thumb over it. It made you whine in pain, yet he ignored you and thrust his thumb into your mouth. The taste was tangy, a bit too metallic for your liking but the whole thing was so fucking hot you couldn’t deny him anything. “Did you like that, too? Okay. We’ll explore that another time.”

Seungmin threw the knife aside once more, and then two long fingers were pressing into your folds. You laid there with legs spread, letting him explore every dip and crevice in your pussy and examine how wet you were. You knew you were dripping, and he did too - it was just a waiting game.

You squirmed, bucking your hips up. “I’m wet enough. I promise that I am, just-“

You gasped when he pressed the knife against your throat again. You hadn’t even seen him grab it. “Stay fucking still,” He warned. “I decide when you’re ready.”

Well, you could definitely get on board with that. Seungmin sunk his middle finger into you nonetheless, meeting no resistance. Your hole was dripping around him, leaking down to his knuckle and making him sigh in approval at the sight. He still had his gloves on, the faux leather buttery and smooth inside of your hole. “This pussy’s tight, huh?”

“I’d clench it for you,” You breathed out, letting one of your hands grab your tits over your bra. The knife was still pressed tightly against the column of your throat, but you managed to pull your tits out of the lace, making Seungmin’s eyes instantly flit down to your pebbled nipples. He started to thrust his finger inside of you, the material of his gloves dragging on your rim. “I’d- I’d clench around your cock, Seungie. Make it so tight for you.”

“Yeah?” Seungmin breathed. On his next thrust in, he pushed another finger in, and then he was curling two directly at that lovely spongy spot inside of you. “I’ll look forward to it, baby. Do my fingers feel good?”

“So good,” You gushed, tweaking your nipples with your fingers. “It’s so good, and- the knife, oh god-“

“Is it like you imagined, yeah?” He moved up to your side, easing his pressure on the blade so you could turn your head and kiss him. It was just as filthy, and he moaned in approval when your walls fluttered around his digits. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both. “Maybe next time, I’ll fuck you with the handle of the knife.”

You keened, starting to bounce your hips against his hand. He obliged with your movements, pressing his palm up against your clit and letting you grind the sensitive bud into his calloused hand. It was just the right amount of soft and rough, making your toes curl in your socks and your orgasm build steadily, a white hot pleasure in your pussy.

“It’s- I need it-“

“God, do you even know what you need?” Seungmin chuckled, kissing your cheek. “I think you need to cum for me, don’t you?”

You nodded erratically, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Seungmin dropped the knife to his opposite side once more, replacing it with a firm grip to your throat with his spare hand. The sight of his gloved digits around your throat and restricting your airflow had you wailing once more, gripping his wrist and grinding with renewed fervour.

“I think- oh, I’m gonna cum,” Your lips parted, letting out muted moans and whines at the feeling of his fingers inside of you. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me then, no need to make a noise,” Seungmin was still amused, and you gasped before you were cumming. “That’s it, there you go.”

You felt your hole gush around his fingers, soaking the material of his gloves with white cum and your clit throbbing through your orgasm. It felt good, not only to cum but to also finally have some tension resolved with such a prominent person in your life.

When you finally came to, you were still gasping, breath heavy and burning your lungs with every exhale. You heard Seungmin coo at you, laying back and dragging you onto his chest.

“Good?” He questioned, and you nodded.

Then, something hit you. “Seungmin?” He hummed in response. “You cut my shirt open. What do I wear for the rest of the party?”

Seungmin stopped breathing, and then he burst out laughing, full body laughs wreaking havoc on his body.

“It’s not funny!” You whined, but you were giggling too, slapping his chest playfully.

“You can wear the cloak, baby,” He kissed your nose. “I have clothes on underneath.”

You hummed, nodding. “You still have to wear the mask though.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” He mumbled, but he was still grinning.

“You like it.”

Seungmin kissed you again, chaste and sweet. “Unfortunately, yes.”

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hellsburners · 8 months

Text

best mistake

summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet.

He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel.

He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.

He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched.

The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe.

You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed.

“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist.

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”

“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,”

“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.”

Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”

“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”

“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”

“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”

Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder.

For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable.

Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”

“Good for her,” you whispered.

“Have you thought about something like that?”

“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled.

“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him.

“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist.

Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours.

You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Yeah, sure,” he coughs.

You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter.

You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression.

“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”

“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”

You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest.

Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”

“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”

Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck.

Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation.

He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”

“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”

His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”

“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”

“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”

The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.

Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat.

“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers.

“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”

You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone.

You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds.

“It’s too fucking big,” you groan.

“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans.

He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind.

Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames.

“Shit, I’m close–”

“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”

“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers.

Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you.

You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched.

“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily.

It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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thetriumphantpanda · 5 months

Text

masterpiece | marcus pike

Summary | Even surrounded by works of art, you're his favourite masterpiece.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Warnings | A fair amount of art metaphors, Marcus being a smooth motherfucker but a smitten one, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV, creampie, public sex (don't ask me why I write this man fucking in public so much), alcohol consumption, two Taylor Swift song lyric references if you look hard enough, no use of y/n. Reader is a blank slate physically but is described wearing a dress and is wearing red lipstick.

Word Count | 1.5k

Authors Note | Don't look at me. I saw this post. Immediately thought of Marcus and wrote this in less than 24 hours. As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena who continually inspires me to be creative and to write what I love. If you liked this, please consider reblogging or commenting, it is my life blood. This might be my favourite thing I have ever written, so enjoy.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The Mona Lisa. The Girl With The Pearl Earring. The Birth Of Venus. All of them masterpieces, but none of them could hold a candle to you this evening in his eyes.

Stood in the dimly lit room, draped in a dress of burgundy silk, the low-cut back showing off your spine, teasing what sat lower, the curve of your ass that he gets to cradle in his hands each evening, the glass of champagne held in your delicate fingers, fingers he knows so intimately these days, how they feel wrapped around that specific part of him. The light glints on the stones of your earrings, dropping delicately from your ears, swinging lightly, touching the skin of your neck that is traced by his mouth each night. And when you turn to him, meet his eyes across the room, and smile at him, he wishes he could paint you, immortalise you on canvas, hang you on a wall, display you, so that the rest of the world, for the rest of history, could understand just how priceless you were to him.

He doesn’t even really know why he’s here, much like he thinks when he does anything that doesn’t involved shutting the two of you away in his home or yours and forgetting anything else exists outside of those four walls. Letting you wrap yourself around him, tangled in sheets, with whispered sighs, his hands on your hips and thighs, caught up in nothing but each other and the way he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way for anyone before, not his ex-wife, not his failed engagement, none of them. None of them made his heart skip like you do, none of them could set his skin on fire with the trace of their fingernails across his skin like you could, none of them would make him feel as good as you would. In the dead of night, your head pillowed on his shoulder, breath fanning across his skin, he realises he’s never loved until you.

When you turn, abandoning the conversation you’re having with God knows who, start walking towards him, parting the crowd like the Red Sea, your eyes focused on him and him alone, he finds that his breath catches in his throat, still not quite believing he is the apple of your eye, the man you search for in a crowd.

“You’re staring.”

“Your fault for looking like that.”

His hand snakes across silk and then the bare skin of your back, dipping to kiss the corner of your mouth so as to not smudge the clean line of red that your mouth is painted.

“See anything you want to buy?”

He smirks, “There’s only one piece of art here that I want, and it’s not for sale.”

You press up onto your tiptoes, mouth by his ear, “Would you hang me on your wall, Pike?”

Looking down at you, those doe eyes, long eyelashes fluttering at him, knowing exactly what you do to him, he bites his lip, “Maybe not hang baby,” He all but growls at you, “But pin you against it? Always.”

And then it all happens in a flurry. Hand around wrist, heels clicking against the floor as he pulls you from the crowd, out of one room, down a hallway and into the first room which door will open. It’s dark inside, save for the floor lights that illuminate the paintings. Normally, when you let him walk you around this particular gallery, all you’re focused on is the way his face lights when he talks, when he’s allowed, for once, to be unapologetically nerdy about something, but tonight, he’s not looking at the art, he’s looking at you.

Like predator after prey, he takes one step forward, as you take one back, slowly but surely backing you up under his gaze until your bare back hits a wall, cornered between two paintings, his palms on either side of your head, mouth dipping to yours, finding a finger pressed against his lips, one of your eyebrows raised, with a point to your own lips and that fucking lipstick that he knows he’ll smudge later if he’s got anything to say about it.

So instead, lips attach to neck, pressing, nipping, sucking sometimes as those fingers of his work the silk up from your ankles, up as high as he can be bothered to pull it before his hand is sinking underneath it, finding you bare.

“Filthy little minx.”

“Have you seen this dress?” You counter, “You would have seen the lines.”

He cuts you off, parting you with his fingers, sinking them lower, finding you slick to the touch, fingers sinking inside, pulling a gasp from you as your delicate hands circle his wrist, not as a warning, but as an encouragement, keeping him there, keeping his fingers inside you as they curl, search out that spot within you that makes you sing. And he finds it, because of course he does, watches as your knees buckle a little, held up only by his other hand on your waist, anchoring you right where he wants you as those fingers drag up, circling that bud of nerves so perfectly, your head tipped back against the wall.

“Go on, baby,” He encourages, fingers fast and precise against you, knowing exactly how to tear you apart, “Let go for me.”

So you do, legs shaking, his name like a chant on your lips, you come, hips chasing his hand as his movements slow, working you through it but not to the point of overstimulation. He looks you dead in the eye as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks the taste of you from his skin, leaning back into your mouth, an expectant look in your eyes that you’ve already told him about this.

“Tongue.”

It’s demanding, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing, so you stick it out, do as you’re told, hoping to earn the golden star from him, those two words that make you weaker than anything.

He leans in, traces his tongue against yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth before giving you that reward.

“Good girl.”

Then his hands are snaking down, gripping your ass through the silk, lifting you gently to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands fumble with his trousers, moving them only enough to free his cock, your hands shifting your dress again, pulling it up to pool at your waist as the length of his slips trough your slick folds, before he’s buried inside you to the hilt in one movement.

There’s a moment of pause, where you look at each other, where you get used to the feel of him inside you, stretching you so perfectly like he always does, him getting used to the warmth of you, the way those walls of yours flutter around him. Then he’s moving, knowing this isn’t the place for him to take his time, hips rocking into yours, slamming your back into the wall as your arms lace around his shoulders, helping him to keep you held up, hands against your ass squeezing where he can.

“Careful of the paintings, agent.” You tease.

“You’re the only masterpiece I care about,” He breathes back, “Pinned to the wall like you should be.”

It’s quick and it’s sloppy, but its no less incredible as it is when he lays you down, pulls you apart with his mouth, then his fingers, then both, and then finally sinks into you, with your legs pressed back to your chest. Here, it’s different, the way his cock punches so deep inside you it takes your breath away, the way you claw at his shoulders, rock into him on his thrusts so you take him deeper. The way you’re surrounded by magnificence but only look at him, warmth in your eyes, nothing but love as he stutters with his movements a little.

“Gonna fill me up?” You ask, voice sickly sweet, “Leave yourself dripping down my thighs when we go back?”

Fuck, you’re filth personified when you talk like that, when you let him mark you, fuck you full of him and walk around with him dripping down your skin, no-one else any the wiser.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He growls into the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe, marginally missing the silver of your earrings.

“Please.”

It’s the first break in your facade, the way you beg like that and he knows its all over, always is when you beg for him, beg for him to fill you up. He doesn’t last much longer, hips pushing into yours a handful of times before you can feel the warmth spreading inside of you, a breathe of your name against the skin of your neck as he fills you, fucks you to the point that you’re already dripping him before he pulls himself from you, letting your dress drape back down your legs, feet planted on the floor, as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

Your palms smooth down your dress and as he twines his fingers with yours, leads you back into the main gallery, thighs coated in him, no-one would be any the wiser that he has indeed painted you as his own masterpiece right under their noses.

#Marcus pike #Marcus pike smut #Marcus pike x reader #Marcus pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fluff #Marcus pike Fic #Marcus pike fanfic #Marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike the mentalist

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emsgwenstan · 2 months

Text

I need you when I sleep.

Larissa Weems x fem reader. (Angst)

Words: idk like less than 1k? It’s short and sweet.

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of blood and abuse

Note: I really couldn’t be bothered to continue, kinda angsty. (Italics are for the nightmare.)

———

They were taking her, I don’t know who, I don’t know where, but what I did know is that whoever they are dragged Larissa away and they were going to hurt her. I couldn’t move, practically paralysed, I could only scream out to her, I could only plead for them to take me and let her free, but nothing I did could stop the inevitable.

I don’t understand what they want with her, hasn’t she suffered enough? It feels the same as when I found her lying on the cold stone almost lifeless after laurels attack.

I couldn’t bear to have her taken away from me again, the rage accumulated in my veins seemed to take its toll as I retracted enough to completely rip out of their grasp and one by one I slaughtered every one of them with my bare hands, ripping, pulling, scratching and gouging, yet when I ran to her she wasn’t getting any closer, she was so close but not enough for my reach.

Hoards of people came to drag us further apart and I wasn’t strong enough to fight against them all, so slowly, ever so painfully, I watched as they beat her and ripped at her clothes, I saw the way her blood trickled down her face and blemished her porcelain skin. I screamed and screamed and screamed until my throat was raw and stinging. The light and the string of life was barely hanging on by a thread as I saw her tired body no longer struggling.

———

Larissa paced back towards her quarters after sneaking down to the staff room to nick a tea bag and make a hot tea for herself, the insomnia finding hilarity in her drowsy state, she sat in the room scrolling through her phone until the cup was empty, then headed back to her quarters.

However the halls weren’t very quiet for 2:30 in the morning. She could hear yelling that became screaming quickly in the span of 30 seconds, she started to walk faster than turned jogging to the noise, she realised that it was coming from my room, she rapidly knocked on the door but with no answer or pause in the distress she pulled out her keys fumbling to find the master that opens all the doors.

Finally she found it slotting it in the key hole and ripping open the door, the room was dimly lit by a singe candle and the red alarm clocks numbers, she could see my thrashing silhouette in the sheets of my bed and ran to sit on the side of my mattress, Larissa grabbed my sheets and pulled them away for better access. “Shhh darling, you’re alright, come on wake up sweetheart.” She said trying to coax me out of the state. She dragged my body to lay in her lap and gently shake me awake. “No don’t!” I yelled. “Wake up honey! Come on.” She demanded. “Don’t hurt her please!” I screamed. “WAKE UP!” She yelled.

A gasp filled my lungs finally being jerked away from the terror, I looked up to see Larissa’s troubled expression, my body was shaking and exhausted. “Rissa, you’re alright…” I hummed my eyelids blinking slowly. “I’m ok? Y/n…?” Larissa curled her knees up, sat on her hip and elbow peering down at me concerned stroking the sweaty hair from my forehead. “Oh thank goodness.” I sniffed, tears rolling down to temples and into my hair. “You can’t leave me again, you can’t die.” I mumbled into her shoulder. “I’m right here I’m not going anywhere, it was just a very bad dream.” She said cupping my cheek.

After a few minutes I had fallen back to sleep, this was Larissa’s queue to carefully hop off the bed and fetch a cool washcloth from my ensuite to pat down my hot sweat ridden face, neck and shoulders. Gently she folded the cloth and wiped carefully until I lulled awake again. “Please don’t leave.” I whispered with my eyes peeling open just a fraction. “I’m not going anywhere darling.” She lowly spoke back, with my eyes closed again and my hand wrapped around her wrist I said. “I love you, Larissa.” Her eyes widen slightly and her movements are relinquished. Before she could respond I was asleep again.

Larissa discarded the cloth, toed off her flats and removed her floor length robe to get in the bed with me. She didn’t care about keeping her propriety, she didn’t even think twice about how inappropriate it is to share a bed with her employee, because that’s not what I was to her, since the day of her near death Larissa vowed to herself that she would not push me or others away to keep her feelings safe, because if she had in fact died that night what would she have to show for it, no family, no lover, just a home and position she’d leave behind.

Comfortably rested in the sheets Larissa pulls my body closer to hers and ever so softly, she lifts my head to remove the hair from my neck tossing it up against the pillow and guide my neck into the inside of her bicep. Her brows are deeply creased due to the concern, but the longer she looks at my sleeping form it softens, her tense muscles relax, her mind slowly coming to ease. “I love you too, my sweet darling girl.” She whispered, hesitantly she placed a light kiss to my cheek, then finally falling asleep herself.

———

As I rolled over, I noticed that I could feel a dip in the mattress and warmth radiating from right beside me, Larissa. My heart starts racing at the prospect of the woman I love in my bed, asleep in all her glory, my eyes meet her glistening porcelain skin thats illuminated by the streak of sunlight casting over her face from the unclosed curtains. She’s bare of any make up, her usual blood red lips are a soft pink, the scar more evident and more beautiful that wonderfully taints her soft feature, her eyelashes a light blonde completely contrasting to the cobalt blue eyeliner and mascara.

In a moment of confusion I found myself staring at her so intensely that I hadn’t realised she had woken, her eyes fluttering open adjusting to the bright light. “Morning sweetheart.” She said, her voice is deep and laced with sleep, I could feel it vibrate from her chest. “Hi…” I said softly. “Are you feeling alright?” She asked shifting her head out of the sun and onto the pillow I occupied. “I’m fine… what exactly are you doing here?” I asked sheepishly. “You don’t remember?” She asked, her brows furrowing. “I’m afraid not.” I mumbled. Larissa took a big inhale of breath through her nose and stretched her long limbs, as she did so the strap of her silky tan nightgown slipped down her shoulder.

“Early this morning, you were screaming. You had a nightmare and I came in to wake you, it was quite terrifying, I thought you wouldn’t wake… but, you asked me to stay.” She said, her reasons seemed valid, it’s easy to believe the nightmare part especially. “I don’t remember it-… wait.” The memory of the nightmare hit me like a bus, I hadn’t realised I’d been screaming in reality. “Yes, yeah I do actually, it was me and you-… it was awful.” I huffed, I extended my hand and pulled up her strap as if were stoping me from focusing. “I apologise, for the noise, particularly things I might have said… what else did I say?” I asked, pulling the braid from behind her shoulder to trace the pattern in her hair, unconsciously not seeing how intimate this is.

“A few things… you asked for me not to leave you, you were worried I was going to die… tell me, how long have you been having these nightmares?” She asked, tucking the hair in my eyes behind my ear, away from my face. “Since you were attacked. I’ve never been able to get the picture out of my head.” I said. “What do you mean? you saw me?” She asked confused. “Who do you think found you Larissa?” I asked looking directly into her eyes. “I took you to the hospital, I stayed with you every night, every morning, every waking moment of every day, I couldn’t bear for you to be or feel alone.” I said slightly ashamed of how invasive it sounds. “You what?” She asked propping herself on her elbow. “I’m sorry… I was just worried sick, I thought that… never mind.” I said sitting up letting the blanket fall down onto my lap as I covered my face with my hands, rubbing my eyes until I could see kaleidoscopic patterns.

A silence filled the air until it was broken by a whisper. “You said something else last night.” I removed my hand and rapidly blinked for my eyes to readjust. “What?” I asked matching her tone. “You said…” she started, sitting up to be face to face with me. “That you love me… Is that true?” She asked with hopeful eyes. “Yes.” I responded without hesitation. “I thought I would never have been able to tell you that… that I love you, that’s why I was so afraid when you were almost taken away from me… I understand that you don’t feel the same but there’s no sense in denying it, because I do, I love you, so much, and I’m constantly in torment when I sleep because I’m so scared you won’t be with me anymore.” I breathed starting to cry.

Larissa had tears rolling down her cheeks before I finished the statement, she didn’t respond with words, but I knew I was wrong by saying she didn’t feel the same when she took my face in her hands and kissed me gently. “I love you.” She whispered on my lips. “I love you.” She said again. “I need you too.” She said with her lips pressed to mine. Her hands traveled into my hair and my own raised to her neck. Everything felt like it was falling into place.

@sabraaabra @barbarasstar @readingtheentrails

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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politemenacephd · 3 months

Text

Monster!Miguel Vol. 2 (+18)

Ghoul!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader Tokyo Ghoul/ATSV Crossover

Masterlist

CW: Blood, Mentions of cannibalism, reader has a vagina.

Content: Established relationship, Oral (reader recieving), Tentacle play, Tentacle penetration, Multiple orgasms, PinV sex, Biting/Consensual blood drinking. Notes: This was my first request! I really hope i did this right, I haven't watched TG in like. over a decade lmao so I did my best, enjoy

‘You can eat me.’

In your bedroom, in the dark, those words hung heavy in the air. They seemed to reverberate long after they’d been said. You swallowed hard and repeated them: ‘You can eat me.’

There was no light in here, spare the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering in through your half-done blinds, and from the safety of your mattress you watched as that cold, white light illuminated the contours of the man sitting at the end of your bed. That muscled creature with the red eyes.

You saw something snaking in the shadows at his back. You heard it slithering.

You should have been terrified, but you weren’t. In fact, your dynamic was strangely flipped. You were calm, collected, while the man before you was anything but. He was the one who looked terrified.

‘No, no’ he repeated. His voice was low.

‘It’s okay’ you repeated. ‘I understand. I understand.’

‘No!’

He raised his voice but immediately doubled over, almost as if some invisible force had punched him in the gut. You could see the pain he was in. The way he kept wincing, even in this dull light. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. It was that migraine, the start of the feeding frenzy.

You’d been seeing Miguel in secret for some time now, enough that you’d seen this many times before. Every time he’d found a way to stave it off. Blood bags, donated organs, forcing himself to eat that synthetic flesh. Now, though, he was in trouble. He had nowhere else to go.

He needed to eat, and you knew that he could only consume one thing: humans. Your blood, your flesh, your bones, anything you made would do, but it had to be that. It had to be you.

And it could be, because despite your fear, you loved him. You wanted him to survive.

‘If you don’t eat, you’ll do something you regret’ you insisted.

‘Not you’ he repeated.

‘Why not me?’

Your soft platitudes turned to a choke as you saw the man before you reared up to his full glory. His eyes were ringed with black, the red pupils the only clear light. That bloody glow reflected off of every contour on his upper body. You saw the strength, the scars, the sheer size. You saw the faint glimmer of a fang in his mouth as he sneered.

The slithering at his back suddenly settled, and in the dim light you could now see what it was. Eight, slippery, blood-red tendrils, four on each side of his back, long and sharp like a spider’s legs. He suddenly dug them down into the floor on either side of the bed, and with unnerving ease he used them to lift his body.

He reared up and lifted himself onto the bed, his body fully eclipsing yours as he lay across you. You whimpered and flattered yourself to the sheets. His breath hit your cheek; it was hot, and smelled strangely metallic.

‘You know I want to, right?’ he murmured. You felt his breath move from your face to your neck, right over the jugular. When you swallowed his lips could feel your throat moving.

‘I want to—taste you.’

His voice was hoarse and husky. He sounded parched.

‘I know’ you whispered.

‘I think about it, all the time’ he insisted, his hunger clear. You saw the moonlight glinting off of the drool dripping down his jaw. ‘You must be- delicious.’

You shuddered as he licked your neck, one clean move from collar to jaw. His tongue was unnervingly sharp compared to a human, almost cat-like in texture, but the spit he left on your skin was warm and soothing.

A car drove past outside, briefly highlighting the ecstasy on his face. You watched through the haze of neon pink light as he licked his bottom lip. He opened his mouth, and you closed your eyes.

‘But if I ate you, what would be the point?’

Slowly, you re-opened your eyes again. He hadn’t moved. Miguel was looking down with a dreamy gaze, his upper arms shaking as his kagune whipped violently at his back.

‘That would be it. The high point of my life. You would be gone, and I’d never get to taste you again’ he whined. ‘I can’t waste you.’

‘Do it slowly then’ you whispered.

‘You are not—helping’ he rasped. He sucked in air through his teeth as he fought the urge to just sink down on your soft little neck, feeling the sweet, warm taste fill his mouth.

‘Just… okay, what about something small?’ you asked. That certainly seemed to draw him back, as his eyes darted across your body and face.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can—give you something small.’ You pointed to your wrist, your foot, whatever you could think of in the moment. ‘I can… give you something small, to tide you over.’

Your unending loyalty to him almost brought him to his knees.

He was wracked with that insatiable lust. How could he possibly turn it down? How could he fight the urge to have you so permanently?

The love of a predator for its prey. The need to consume you in every possible sense. Your tears, your words, your blood, your bones, to be inside you and to have you inside him. How beautiful. How honest. How vile.

‘Perhaps, just—a little, blood, could… No. No. First, I want to, try something’ he said gently.

You nodded, eager to do anything to soothe that pain. ‘Yes. Yes, of course, do you—’

‘Take your panties off.’

You froze, still vulnerable on your back with his body planking over your own. You looked up into those ferocious eyes and felt your mouth moving, though no sound came out.

‘W-What?’

‘Take your panties off’ he repeated in that husky voice, ‘take them off, and lie down for me. No moving. If I get too excited, I could—’

‘I know’ you murmured. ‘I-I know the drill.’

Until now you’d only even engaged physically in small ways to avoid setting him off. Using hands, fingers, sparing kisses to stave off the heat. But, he’d never seen you naked before.

Shyly you stripped your panties down. In your bed you were wearing only an oversized shirt and them to cover yourself, so as soon as they were gone you almost fully bare. You felt tingles as the cold air hit you; you were, embarrassingly, already a little wet.

Miguel bobbed his head, gesturing for you to lie down. You did as told.

‘Stay, still’ he repeated. You felt your body tense.

With painful deliberation Miguel used his clawed hands to split your legs apart, fully spreading you before his eager eyes. You couldn’t help it; a whimper escaped your lips. He seemed to enjoy it.

You watched him tilt his head, admiring the barely visible view.

And then, slowly, his head went down. You watched his mouth and nose disappear as he lowered them to your spread sex, his hands still gripped tight to your thighs to keep them apart. You felt just the faintest flicker of fear then.

Miguel lay himself down until he was comfortable. He breathed you in with unabashed perversion, letting your scent fill his sinuses, before coyly opening his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue crept out, and after a moment of hesitation, it brushed your clit.

You jolted violently the moment you felt him. He had to pin you down to stop you moving.

‘Shh, shh. Still’ he barked. He didn’t want the temptation to go further. You panted as you lay back, forcing yourself to be as still as you could. His tongue went back and you bit your lip.

It was so hard to stay put. His tongue was so wet but so rough, and you were incredibly sensitive. You had to lie in absolute stillness as his tongue wound its way through your folds, as his lips kissed and sucked on your clit, as he dared to even push it up inside you.

You felt the cold when he moved, leaving behind his wet little trails of spit. You felt yourself pulsing with fear and excitement.

It didn’t take long for him to get what he wanted. You were inexperienced, and the soft stimulation was too much for your throbbing clit. All too soon you orgasmed in his grip, cumming hard on his tongue as he licked you out.

You stifled your own screams with your hand. You stifled the violent shudders your body was begging to release as it was rapturously filled with that white-hot pleasure, but Miguel wasn’t concerned with that anymore.

He put his tongue inside you as you came, and he licked. He licked up everything he could.

He was after your slick, your taste. He was playing with his food. Like a cat with a mouse in his paws, he let you squirm.

But, it was helping. It was tiding him over. It wasn’t quite flesh but it was sating some of his obsessive hunger. It tasted good. He lapped up your slick and felt that familiar joy at feeding, and even once you’d collapsed back into the sheets he continued.

He continued to lick. He pushed for one more taste.

‘Give me more—please—please—’

You jolted as one of his long, slippery kagune tentacles slithered down and between your legs, sliding under his wet jaw to probe at your cunt. You squirmed a little at the sensation; it wasn’t like anything you’d felt before, more like a tongue than an appendage, with its surface obscenely velvety and smooth.

With a wet squelch it slipped inside you, gently stretching you out. You cried out in shock.

‘More—’

With his long organ now pumping inside you he began to manipulate it against your g-spot, pushing and sliding and coiling until you squirmed. He pushed you until you squirted.

‘Ah—yes, yes—’

He greedily lapped up your slick with his tongue, his body practically shaking as it dripped down his lips and jaw. ‘Yes’ he repeated in a dreamy voice, ‘yes, yes.’

Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure, to the point that you had gone limp in his grip. All you could feel was the slippery conjoined heat of his tongue and kagune aggressively licking and nestling at your pussy, drawing out as much as they could.

‘Tastes so—good—’

One of his other eight kagune slipped up and under your shirt to cup your nipple, eager to stimulate you more. He needed you to gush. He needed you to fill his mouth.

You whimpered, your lips trembling as he held you down. You could feel it moving inside you, not just back and forth but swirling and shifting like a tongue, pushing in deep enough to kiss your cervix. You bucked your hips as it started to nestle in at every spot inside you.

‘Come on… come on…’ Miguel hissed. His tongue hit your clit right as his soft appendage squished at your g-spot, forcing you to cum and squirt for a second time.

He lapped at it desperately, even pulling his kagune out halfway just to lick that too. You whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness as it slid out and drooped, its red surface utterly saturated.

Miguel was fixated on it. The pearly strings dripping and hanging from it, the way it was pulsing softly against your hole as you clenching and twitched. He tasted every bit of it before burying himself back into the sweet nook of your clit.

‘So—delicious—‘

You weren’t sure how many times he forced you to cum for him. It could have been six, or eight? Maybe even ten? You lost count.

He refused to let you go, keeping your body flat on its back and permanently filled with his softly pulsing organs, his weapons, now being used to gently fuck you into submission.

He was practically milking you for orgasms, like livestock in his hands.

You had promised to let him eat you, though. Really, what could you have expected.

‘A-Ah… aha—’ You were struggling to control yourself at this point. You were spasming slightly with each suck, and every time his tendrils wriggled inside you, you felt a little more lightheaded. You were overstimulated to the max.

He let you shudder into another orgasm with nought but a weak and shaky whimper, and at last he withdrew from your body. He licked what he could from your cunt and thighs and from his own appendage before moving back up to your head.

‘May I have your hand, please?’ he purred. You were too weak to raise your hand, but he saw it trembling and went to lift it himself. He held your wrist delicately up to his mouth, and with his fangs he gently pierced the skin between your thumb and finger.

You moaned as he started to suck on the cut he’d made, drawing out a small stream of blood to satiate the last of that hunger. Your eyes fluttered shut.

That was, until he tapped your thigh. You gasped and shuddered back into wakefulness, only to find that Miguel had stripped his own boxers down and was resting his hefty, erect cock on your thigh. His cold red eyes peered down at you in the dark.

‘Mmf…’

He gently started to grind on you, a silent plead for more affection. He wanted all of you.

Shakily, you nodded. ‘Y-Yes, yes. You can- You can have me’ you panted.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed as he shifted your hips. With your hand still in his mouth he positioned himself, and with his own copious spit as lube he started roughly thrusting his own thick cock inside your overstimulated cunt. You could feel it pulsing deep, desperately punching at your cervix.

‘A-Ah… M-Miguel’ you panted. He kept pumping, his eyes dreamy and soft, his lips now stained as he continued to suck what he could.

‘Mmf… Mmfff…’

Between the pleasure and the pain you were lost. You were so unbearably overstimulated, and after the soft dexterity of the kagune tendril it was quite the shock to now be penetrated by something so hard and firm. It pulsed the same, gently smearing you in his pre-cum as he fucked you raw. Somehow, that rhythmic pumping began to relax you once more.

With a moan you lay back, and you let him satiate his multi-layered hunger with your body.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #smut #monster human relationship #monster kink #tw blood #monster smut #miguel o'hara smut #+18 #miguel o'hara au

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 3 months

Note

hiii i just read "your melon bread" fic of denji and IT'S SO GOOD (i smashed the follow button immediately lol)

and i saw your asks are open so can i request a part 2 of it where the next day when denji, aki and power are patrolling the town and they walked pass a bakery and denji remembered what happened yesterday and forced aki to get inside and buy him melon bread but was greeted by the reader who's family owns the bakery (this is my first time requesting so sorry if it gets confusing and feel free to ignore this if u dont want to or if it makes u uncomfortable :3)

and can i be the 🦈 anon thankksss hope u have a good morning/evening/night ^_^

Denji Hayakawa - Half Your Melon Bread 2

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey 🦈Shark anon! Sorry for the absurdly long delay, but I've finally completed your ask. At first, I was just going to ignore it since “Half Your Melon Bread” was supposed to be a one-off thing, but the more I thought about it, the more I came to like it! — Benny🐰

Part 1

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

Aki was… perplexed to say the least. The fiend(?) that he had been tasked to watch over hadn't so much as muttered Makima's name since yesterday; it was kind of unsettling. All the blonde idiot seemed to do was stare off into the distance and mutter something about bread.

While the topknot-styled man was a bit relieved that he wasn't being bothered by both of the idiots under his watch; he did grow a bit concerned. It seemed as though Power had as well, judging by the hard stare that she was drilling into the side of the Chainsaw Devil hybrid's head. The strawberry blonde hadn't uttered a word since they left the house; only staring at him in silence with a deep frown on her face.

Denji himself was deep in thought. That stranger… he never got their name; they left before he could ask. He did remember their face though, so he'll definitely thank them when he sees them again and maybe they'd let him touch their chest—

Bonk!

The dirty blonde walked right into a light pole while he was distracted by his thoughts. The boy groaned as he clutched his head in a futile attempt to soothe the pain and the ringing in his ears. As he looked at what he'd run into, he saw a soft yellow light in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw that he, Aki, and Power were standing in front of a bakery.

A bakery… Baking… Bread is baked… Oh! Melon bread! He could get some of that here!

Quickly, Denji walks into the building, ignoring the annoyed protests of the senior devil hunter and cheers for food from the blood fiend. The smell of butter freshly baked dough immediately permeated his nostrils as he walked through the door. It was a comforting but hunger-inducing smell that had likely not only him, but everyone else in the building heavily salivating.

“Welcome to Chubby Bunny Bakery; I can help you right over here, Sir.”

A voice from behind the dirty blonde draws his attention from observing the bakery's interior and to the order station.

The devil man's eyes widen as he sees the figure standing behind the display case. It was the stranger from yesterday in the park! They were holding onto a sheet pan of cookies; sliding the display case glass backing to the side and putting the pan of cookies inside.

“It's you!”

Denji exclaims as he, rather rudely, points at them; finger only inches from their face due to how close he already was.

The stranger stares at him for a bit before they chuckles and gently grab his wrist to pull his hand down. They grab a small menu card from a stack of them that sits next to the register and place it in front of him with a small smile.

“Yes, it's me, bread boy. Did you have anything in mind already? If not, you can look at our menu here to help you decide.”

The stranger tells him, tapping the menu card between them twice.

“Oh! Uh– melon bread. Pl—”

The devil man was interrupted by a firm grip on his shoulder flipping him around to face an incredibly annoyed aki.

“And what money are you going to use to pay for it? Not mine.”

The raven-haired man asked rhetorically as he glared at the younger boy.

While Aki was talking the stranger came back to the front with a beige wax paper bag in their hand and held it out to the dirty blonde. Denji gingerly took it in his hand, ignoring his superior's irate rantings, and pulled out the glazed treat. He took a hesitant bite and his cheeks flushed a soft pink as the sweet melon flavor washed over his tongue.

The stranger smiled at him before turning to the top-knot-baring man with their hand out expectantly. He sighed as he realized that he would be paying for Denji's food after all. Shoving his hand into his back pocket; he takes out his wallet and reluctantly forks over the needed amount, though not before he throws a nasty glare the younger boy's way.

“So, uh, I never got your name. Or gave you mine, really. I'm Denji.”

The dirty blonde shyly muttered between nibbles of his sweet treat.

The stranger chuckles at his timid demeanor, figuring that he was just feeling a little embarrassed by the fact that he had no money. They rest their chin in the palm of their hand as they look him up and down; thinking about how he kind of reminds them of a dog.

“Well, nice to meet you, Denji. I'm [Name].”

They introduce themself lazily; taking his hand in theirs and giving it a firm shake.

Suddenly though, the baked treat was snatched from the dirty blonde's hand by a wild Power as she dashed to the door.

“Sharing is caring, henchman!”

The blood fiend shouts as she is chased out of the door by both males.

[Name] stares at the door for a few seconds before letting out an amused chuckle. What a strange bunch, they thought with a smile.

🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

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underoospeterparker · 3 months

Note

desperately need a finnick x reader where he comforts reader (*cough* me *cough*) during their period bc i am starting soon and am absolutely dreading it 😍

terrible to say but i stopped studying 2 write this as soon as you requested it - thank you for requesting anon, i hope this helps w/ the period at least a little :)

"Honey." Finnick's voice was warm, comforting, and you hung onto it for a moment longer before you opened your eyes and felt the dreaded sticky wetness between your legs.

You groaned. "I leaked onto the sheets, didn't I?"

Turning towards Finnick, you watched as he gave you a sheepish smile, then rushed to reassure you. "It's perfectly fine," he said. "You know I've seen much worse."

You gave him what you hoped was a grateful smile, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. As soon as you stood up you felt the blood rush down your body and you winced, knowing it would be a pain to have to clean up.

Finnick, the gentleman he was, rushed to your side, covering the bed up with the blanket just in case you were feeling queasy. He reached for your hand, squeezing it and leading you to the bathroom.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Before he left, he asked, "are you doing okay?"

Your heart broke at his obvious concern for you. "I'm okay," you shrugged, giving him a small smile. "My stomach hurts a bit, but otherwise it's not too bad."

You hopped into the shower, washing everything off you as well as you could with heaps of soap. When you stepped out, you realised that he'd put a pad in your underwear so it was all ready to go.

You pulled it on, eyes getting teary when you saw that he'd placed your favourite pair of sweats on the toilet lid, along with your unicorn hot water bag.

You couldn't help but burst out crying when you opened the bathroom door to find Finnick had changed the sheets and had gotten you a glass of water and some pain medication.

"Sweetheart?" His voice was filled with concern and empathy. "Why're you crying?"

He had hopped off the bed and was now towering in front of you, hands cupping your face, thumbing away at your tears.

You giggled wetly through your tears. "Just," you said, "I'm so lucky to have you." Your voice cracked on the last word and you promptly fell into his arms.

"Aw, baby," he cooed, voice sweet as he picked you up. Your legs curled automatically around his waist as he placed you on the bed and wrapped his arms around you. "I love you," he whispered, passing you your hot water bag and placing it on your stomach.

"I love you too, Finn," you whispered back, falling asleep in his arms.

It wasn't long, though, before your cramps arrived full force, making you curl your legs up to your chest. You lay in the fetal position, silent tears streaming down your face, trying your hardest not to wake Finnick up.

He was a light sleeper, though. Always has been.

He blinked his eyes open, hand braced against your leg so he could pull himself up to a seated position. "Honey?" he asked cautiously, his voice still thick and raspy from sleep.

You gasped, then tried to turn away from him. "I'm sorry for waking you up," you said. "You can go back to sleep," you added, even though you knew well that he wouldn't.

He pulled you to face him and you relented, teary eyes meeting his. His heart cracked in his chest at the sight of you in pain. "Really bad?" he settled on asking, his voice gentle.

You nodded, and he helped to sit you against the headboard. He reached for the cup of water and the pain medication tablets on the bedside table.

Your hands were shaking, trembling so badly that once he handed you the tablet to swallow, he held the glass of water to your lips instead, watching you swallow and murmuring a soft, "good girl," when you did.

Leaning back against him, you waited for the medicine to set in. His hand retreated to your stomach, the warmth from his palm seeping into your aching muscles. You almost whined in pleasure and he smiled, seeing you relax at least a little.

"Feeling a bit better?" he asked, kissing the side of your head.

You nodded, curling yourself into him, almost trying to meld your bodies together. "Thank you," you murmured, head pressed against his chest.

"Of course."

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cicimunson · 10 months

Text

Period Comfort with Eddie

Just a short drabble of Eddie comforting the reader while they're on their period.

~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up with a sharp pain in your lower stomach, groaning softly as you curl into a ball. Your period was here, it was early, and you were already miserable.

Eddie stirs in his sleep, automatically rolling over and tossing an arm around you.

"Bad dream, babe?" He murmurs, kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, I'm right here."

You slip out of bed. "I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." You hurry down the hall before he can reply.

Please let it be a light one, please let it be a light one, please let it be-

You sigh as you tug down your sleep shorts and underwear and see the mess. You had already leaked through them.

Fuck, of course. My first time sleeping over with my boyfriend and this happens.

You realize that if you've bled through your shorts, there's probably blood on the bed. You briefly contemplate just leaving, walking out the front door without saying a word. It isn't like Eddie is going to want to talk to you after this, he'll probably be disgusted.

You dismiss the idea, your shoes and keys are in his bedroom anyways.

You leave the bathroom, dragging your feet as you walk back to him. Eddie is sitting up in the bed, looking concerned.

"Are you okay baby?"

You nod slowly, dreading the conversation you're about to have.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. I just…I got my period is all."

He looks a little surprised but nods. "Oh, okay. Do you need to go home or something?"

Of course he wants me to go home. You blink back tears.

"I can, but, um, I wanted to offer to wash your sheets first. I'm really sorry."

He frowns. "Wash my sheets? Why?"

You look down at the floor. "I, uh, I got blood on them."

Eddie pulls the cover back, grimacing when he sees the blood stain.

"I can clean it up, I promise, and then I'll go, I'm so sorry." You start to ramble. "It wasn't supposed to happen until next week, but sometimes it's early and I should have-"

"Hey, stop, it's fine." He gets out of bed and pulls you into his arms. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"I…just some cramps, I'm fine." You look up at him, surprised at the worry etched on his face. You expected him to look disgusted.

"Are you sure? That's a lot of blood, it looks like it would hurt." He gestures to the stain.

You realize his little grimace when he saw it wasn't because he was grossed out, it was because he was worried about you. He’s so concerned, he’s so sweet.

"Listen, I can handle the sheets. Why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure you wanna get cleaned up." He kisses your forehead.

"Are you sure? I know it's kinda gross. If you don't want-"

"Babe, it's just blood, I got it. I just wanna make sure you're okay is all." He strokes your cheek, still looking worried.

He's really not disgusted or mad. He's worried about me. You let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine, I promise. I'll go shower." You peck his lips gently. "Use cold water on those sheets."

He nods, turning to gather them up while you grab your overnight bag and head back to the bathroom. You get out fresh clothes and search your toiletries, letting out a triumphant "A-ha!" when you find a pad wedged between your deodorant and toothbrush holder.

You ball up your dirty clothes and stuff them in the bag before showering quickly, making sure there's no trace of blood left in the tub before getting dressed.

You follow the sounds coming from the kitchen, smiling when you see Eddie standing over the stove, singing along with the radio.

"Oldies country? I'm shocked." You tease and he whirls around to face you, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Hey, it's all Wayne listens to so of course I know a couple songs." He protests. “Doesn’t make me a fan.”

"Oh I'm not judging, you sound great babe." You push his hair back to kiss his shoulder.

"We are having eggs with cheese, the house speciality." He says in a dramatic French accent. "You like, oui?"

"Oui." You giggle. "Can I do anything to help?"

"You can sit and look pretty, you're already halfway there." He kisses your nose. "My pretty baby."

"Oh, stop." Your cheeks turn pink as you sit down.

He serves you a plate of eggs and a glass of juice before sitting down beside you, grabbing your chair to tug you closer to him. Eddie always had to be close to you, resting a hand on your leg, brushing his thigh against yours, kissing your temple. You normally didn't like to be touched constantly, but with Eddie you craved it. Something in his touch made you feel happy and safe.

He tries to spoon feed you and you laugh, pushing his hand away. "Stop, you goof."

"It's part of the house speciality, the chef feeds you." He tugs one of your thighs over his, stroking your leg as he feeds you little bites.

"You're spoiling me." You murmur, taking a sip of your juice. “I’m fine, Eddie, really.”

He hesitates. "Does it…are you hurting?"

You nod. "Just a little, the cramps hurt. And my chest is a little sore."

He grins mischievously. "Seeing as I'm such a loving and devoted boyfriend, I'm more than happy to rub whatever hurts."

"Eddie!" You blush and hide your face in his neck.

"No, no, I insist. It's my job and I take my job very seriously." He quips as he puts the dirty dishes in the sink before leading you to the couch.

"Very funny. Although I wouldn't say no to a tummy rub right now."

He sprawls out on the couch and pulls you down beside him, your back against his chest. "Let me take care of you baby." He coos, rubbing your lower stomach gently.

"I thought…I thought maybe it would gross you out and you'd want me to go home." You admit. "I'm really sorry about the sheets."

He shakes his head. "Hey, none of that. Truthfully, I think it's kinda metal."

You look up at him over your shoulder. "You think periods are metal?"

"I mean, yeah, kinda! You're in pain and bleeding but you're still up walking around and doing stuff? It's a bit badass, babe."

You smile softly. "You're one-of-a-kind, you know that right?"

He looks pleased. "Right back at ya, gorgeous."

You snuggle in his arms, your eyelids starting to droop after a bit.

"Getting sleepy, pretty baby?"

You nod, kissing his cheek. "Can we nap?"

"Whatever my baby wants." He returns the kiss, holding you tightly.

You nod off in his arms as he keeps rubbing your stomach.

Eddie isn't even tired. He lies contently beside you, hugging you close as he strokes your tummy and back. When he finally does drift off to sleep, he whispers a soft "I love you." in your ear, feeling a weight lift off his chest as he says it for the first time, even though you're sleeping soundly and didn't hear him.

It doesn't matter though, because you fully intend to tell him you love him when you wake up. How could you not?

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson comfort

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straykidshoe · 4 months

Text

You're so pretty

PAIRINGS: Seo Changbin x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Mature (Smut)

MUSIC: Collide (Feat. Tyga) by Justine Skye

CONTAINS: Established relationship, shy!reader

SMUT WARNINGS: Thigh fucking, shower sex, groping, soft!changbin. Please message me if i misseed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1,530

A/N: For all of my shy girlies out there <3 hope you all like it!

You woke up later than usual- the mid morning sunlight streamed in through your sheer curtains, casting your window patterns onto your white sheets. Your spine tightened as you rolled over, searching for the familiar comfort that would normally be next to you, haphazardly tangled between the duvet- his chest rising and falling gently, letting you snuggle into his shoulder. Sitting up, you rested your chest on your bent knees- as you rubbed the sleep away from your eyes you scanned the room; missing the usual warm body that would’ve pulled you back to bed, lulling you back into a deep sleep.

You noticed how you were completely bare underneath the blanket, fresh memories of the night before flashing in your mind. You could feel your skin tingling as you remembered more and more- his skin against yours, him on his knees in front of you, dirty things whispered against your neck and ear. What a way to start the morning.

You glanced over to the nightstand opposite you, noticing a neon yellow in your peripheral. Stretching over, you read the note whilst sipping on the water that was left next to it,

‘Tried to wake you up, didn’t work. I have a bruise to prove it.

I’ll be back soon. Breakfast is outside. Try not to miss me too much.

P.S: I can still taste you on my lips.’

Goosebumps erupted on your skin, your nipples getting harder from the heightened sensitivity, shivering slightly as you looked around your room before pushing up and slipping on one of Changbins shirts along with a fresh pair of underwear. Stumbling out of your bedroom, you plodded your way to the kitchen- cringing at the loud slapping noise that echoed in the empty apartment. You felt yourself light up as you saw your favourite, toaster waffles with chocolate spread- you reminded yourself to thank your boyfriend later. Once you had finished your breakfast, you cleaned the house, brushed your teeth and hopped into the shower.

The hot water cascaded down from the large waterfall shower head above as you scrubbed at your soft skin with a washcloth- the bubbles frothing with the friction. The small speaker you had set up in the bathroom played a random song from your playlist, humming as you swayed your naked hips to the beat.

The velvety vocals bounced off the marble walls, echoing around you- aiding the large man who was currently sneaking into the room. Suddenly, you felt two large hands encircling your waist- gasping out you twisted around in their grip, relaxing your face when you saw your boyfriends smiling face gazing down at you, ‘Babe! What are you doing?’ feeling your face go red, you hold your sudsy hands up against your exposed breasts.

Changbin gently removed your hands- holding them in his large palms, ‘I felt lonely at work.. So i’m here’ he kissed the tip of your nose, laughing when you tried to look anywhere but his exposed torso. Your tongue went dry, five months of dating him and still- he manages to turn you into putty. Granted it was pretty easy, but that’s besides the point, ‘You left a few hours ago..’ you mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

He was aware of your shy personality, finding your stuttering and avoidant nature adorable, ‘Should I go then?’ he questioned, a teasing lilt to his voice. Finally looking up, you met his large brown eyes, ‘N-no, it’s fine..’ chuckling to himself, he bent down and kissed your lips, making you even more flustered- your blood turned to lava, heating up all the pathways within you.

The soft caress of his tongue made you weak it the knees, feeling your pulse dangerously escalate spurred him on- you felt his cock getting hard against your thigh. Panicking slightly, you pulled away- returning your gaze down to the shower floor you stepped out of the water, giving him space to soak himself in the warm downpour. He smiled softly, keeping his hands firmly planted on your hips, running his thumb up and down on the soft patch of skin.

‘Help me?’ he asked, placing your coconut body wash bottle in your palm, with shaky fingers you squeezed out a generous amount of the thick liquid into your cupped hand. Taking a steadying breath in, you started at his neck, gently massaging the fragrant cleanser into his skin. You tried to meet his eyes that were staring down at you.

‘Stop looking at me like that..’ you grumbled, moving your hands down to his wide shoulders,

‘Like what, baby?’ Finally finishing his left arm, you moved onto the right.

‘Like you want to eat me.’ He laughed down at you, kissing the crown of your head.

‘Can you blame me.. you’re delicious’ he purred into your ear, kissing the skin behind. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, smiling to yourself as you tilted your head up the need to kiss him again overpowering your nervousness.

Instantaneously you felt relief wash over your entire body, as Changbin moaned into your mouth before hugging your midriff with his arms. Your core began to leak juices down your thighs, but the dull ache radiating from your walls made you whimper in pain; goosebumps raised on your skin, the duvet of steam creating beads of moisture to form on changbins toned stomach. Anxiety quickly rose within you, like water boiling in a pot, as you felt his calloused fingers drag up your pillowy thighs brushing against your pussy. You quickly pulled away, keeping your hands planted on his tapered waist; your boyfriend's face was painted in confusion, ‘What’s wrong?’

You chewed your lips, contemplating whether you should tell him the truth and risk upsetting him or gritting through the pain as he once again roughly fucked you into oblivion. As much as you wanted to please him and his insatiable habits, your poor vagina couldn’t handle his aggressive assault this time round.

‘It hurts..’ you whimpered, nuzzling in between his pecs, trying to hide your red cheeks. He cooed down at you, ‘Aww poor baby, it’s okay- let me take care of you..’ He reached for the shampoo bottle but stopped midway when you rested your small hand on his bicep, ‘Wanna make you feel good, binnie..’ you gazed up at him, eyes starting to water from desperation.

He took in your appearance shimmering, wet skin with large sparkling eyes and red cheeks. You look adorable, and so ready to be ruined..

‘You sure?’ He caressed your flaming cheeks with his large palm, smiling softly when you relaxed in his hold whilst nodding your head, ‘Okay, I have an idea..do you trust me?’ he asked, caution evident in his voice, ‘Yea, just want to please you.’

Suddenly, he twisted your body in his hold, so that your back was plastered against his front- snaking his hand up your stomach towards your breasts, he played with your puckered nubs whilst sucking on your pulse point. Moaning loudly you arched forward, pushing your tits further into his cupped palms, he chuckled against your wet skin whilst nudging your thighs open slightly with his thigh. Your breath hitched, ‘Relax precious, it won’t hurt at all..’ Changbin murmured against your neck- feeling him slide into the small gap he created you whined at the feeling of your thighs encasing his hard dick, the precum staining your skin leaving a path down as the water washed it away.

His heavy pants tickled the shell of your ear, he ensnared your neck with one large hand as the other held your pelvis against his, ‘You ready princess?’ meekly nodding your head, you gasped when he slid out of your thighs; before slowly re-entering the thigh gap. You let your head lay limp on his shoulder, the overwhelming feeling of his cock slowly getting slicker and slicker with your juices and therefore moving with more ease between your flesh made your entire body shiver with excitement.

Both of your moans echoed around the shower cubicle, mingling with the sound of both of your pelvis bumping together rhythmically. Slowly, Changbin’s moans turned into desperate whimpers and groans, you could tell he was teetering on the edge of his orgasm- his cock twitching helplessly against your cunt.

His thrusts became sloppy as his stamina was running out, wanting him to reach his high- you squeezed your thighs together, causing him to gasp against your shoulder, ‘Fucking-’ he bit down on your skin, secretly hoping that there would be visible marks of his teeth descorating your pure, clean canvas.

You started moving back and forth in tandem with his movements, fervently and messily clenching your thighs. Soon enough his breaths started to quicken as his moans became high pitched and the reflection of his face in the faucet showed his eyebrows being drawn together harshly, ‘Please cum around my thighs binnie, wanna feel you…’ your words threw him straight into his orgasm as he drew back completely- jerking his cum onto your ass and back thighs.

Breathing heavily, he twisted you back around- bumping his nose against yours, ‘you look so pretty covered in my cum baby..'

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