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prythiansfavoritefox · 2 days

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[ Soothe ] for Elucien 🤍

Elain slumped onto her bed, exhausted. It had been a hard day's work of gardening. Her muscles were completely sore. With little else to do in the Night Court, gardening had practically become her daily job. Not like they'd allow her to do anything else. Her request to scry in place of her sister had been denied. They'd rather an emotionally unstable Nesta try than her. It showed what little they thought of her. Bleh.

Elain rubbed her eyes. She been planning on going straight to bed, but how was she going to sleep with all of these sore muscles? So, she made an impulsive decision.

She was exhausted, but she got out of bed and went towards the wraiths' rooms. She knocked on Nuala's door, and within a few moments, her and Cerridwen had appeared beside her like apparitions.

Other people might find them creepy, but they didn't bother Elain very much. She was a literal Seer; she was the weirdo to most people. "Take me to Lucien's house," she said quietly. The wraiths tilted their heads curiously at her. Elain was no fool; she knew the wraiths had been set on her to spy on her, but at least she could befriend them and somewhat gain the advantage. Perhaps in time, their loyalty would be to her and not Rhysand. That would be hilarious. "Are you going to interrogate me, or are you going to do as I say?" Elain asked, a little bite in her voice this time. At her sharp tone, the wraiths linked their arms with hers and the three of them disappeared into the shadows. It wasn't quite like winnowing; no, it was far more uncomfortable. Like melting into the shadows before coming to be again.

"Don't wait up for me," Elain called back at the wraiths, watching them disappear. She walked towards the door to Lucien's house. The whorls of wood on the front were elegant, and Elain could not help but admire the beauty that surrounded everything that had to do with this man. You would never catch him lacking in style.

It was so goddamn attractive.

Before she could knock on the door, Lucien opened it for her. "Elain," he murmured, and Elain squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to control her visceral reaction to the low timbre of his voice. "Lucien," she got out. God, her voice was so breathy; she was doing a terrible job at controlling her instincts. He moved aside so that she could walk in.

"Why are you here." Lucien's voice was careful, restrained. Elain didn't fail to notice his hands flexing back and forth, like he was resisting the urge to grab her and do unspeakable things to her.

Elain blushed. She bit her lip, and Lucien's eyes focused on it. "Couldn't sleep."

"So you decided to sleep walk and somehow wound up here?" he drawled sarcastically.

Elain's spine straightened at his tone. "No, I decided to come here."

"Why? You had no problem avoiding me like the plague for the past several months." He stalked away, and Elain stormed after him. "I just thought-"

"You thought wrong, Elain," Lucien replied.

Elain snorted. "Feyre was right. You are an asshole."

Lucien whipped his head around to her, and Elain stumbled back a step at the expression on his face. His eyes glowed a brilliant deep amber as fire entered his body. The room heated up more with every second. His hands were trembling, fists clenched so hard the skin was paling around his knuckles. "Did Feyre ever tell you what I did for her?" he whispered.

Elain blinked. "N-no I don't think so."

Lucien laughed mirthlessly. "Figures. She always had a bit of a victim complex. Impossible for her to admit she's wrong in any scenario." He took a step towards Elain, who took another step back. "Did you expect me to rejoice at the half-starved animal who had murdered my friend taking his place? Even if it was for the sake of breaking the curse? How would you have felt, if I had killed Feyre and I'd replaced her in your house? Not so nice, hmm?"

Elain opened her mouth, but no words came out. It was hard to think of words when Lucien focused all of his relentless attention on her. She tried again. "No. Not nice." Such a lame response, but she had nothing else to say. Lucien snorted. "Either way, I warmed up to her in spite of everything. She seemed alright...for a feral human, at least. And Tamlin loved her, so when she showed up Under the Mountain, I swore an oath to protect her for him."

Elain shook her head. Feyre had never told her any of this. Lucien continued. "But then, Amarantha dragged me in front of Rhysand and threatened to have me killed. Feyre offered up her name in exchange for my life. Despite me nearly getting her killed a couple of times before that. True, I saved her a lot more, but..." Elain rolled her eyes at his addition, and Lucien took another step forward, "from that point onward, I wasn't just protecting her for Tamlin or Prythian. I was doing it for her."

Elain took another step back. Lucien smirked at her retreat, continuing his story. "She was forced to face this gigantic creature called the Middengard Wyrm. I called out the direction it was coming from, thus saving her life and nearly damning my own. Amarantha ultimately spared my life on the condition that Tamlin whip me instead. Twenty times."

Elain gasped as Lucien began unbuttoning his shirt. "What are you doing?" Elain asked breathlessly, unable to stop watching as Lucien slid his shirt off, turning his back to Elain. There were long, jagged scars going all across Lucien's back. Elain stepped forward to look at them more closely when Lucien shrugged his shirt back on. "Am I still the asshole, Elain?" he asked darkly, then he walked away. Elain nearly screamed in frustration. The urge to touch him, beg him to stay, was uncontrollable. But her legs were screaming again, and she sighed as she settled on the plush carpet in Lucien's living room. Her muscles were burning with lactic acid.

"Elain?" Lucien was by her side in an instant, hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok?" His tone was a far cry from what it had been a few moments ago, purely gentleness and concern in it. He cursed under his breath. "I'm so sorry, Elain, I had no idea-"

Elain laid her hand over his. "It's nothing life-threatening, Lucien," she assured him. "My muscles are just really sore."

Lucien blushed. "Well...I could, you know...?"

"Could what?" Elain asked.

Lucien muttered, "Icouldmassageyouifthatsnottooinappropriate."

"What's that?" Elain yelled, pretending not to understand.

"Oh, I know you heard me, lady," Lucien replied, a bit of a flirtatious note in his voice now. Elain smirked. "You may massage me." She sat up, offering her back to him. He placed his warm hands on her shoulders and began to rub them in circles.

Holy Mother, he was good at this; Elain didn't know how she was going to get through this, especially when his hands moved down her arms, and he turned her around, taking one of her legs in his big palms. "May I?" he asked softly.

Elain barely managed to whisper, "Yes." His hands began working their magic on her upper legs, and she bit back her moan. She really shouldn't be as insanely turned on by this as she was. It was only made worse by the fact that Lucien's body was completely tense, his scent revealing that he was having just as much difficulty maintaining control as she was. When his thumbs dug into her inner thighs, she couldn't control her gasp.

Lucien immediately pulled away. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his cheeks scarlet. "I'll take my leave, my lady." He jumped up, hastily bowing, before he began to walk away. Bastard! He dare work her up this much and then just leave???? Hell no. Elain stomped up to him, shouting, "Lucien! You come back here this instant!" Lucien turned back to her, his russet eye wide, his metal one whirring like crazy. How was he just so effortlessly handsome? It drove Elain mad. So, she did the logical thing.

She stood on her tip-toes, grabbed Lucien by the collar, and slammed her lips to his.

#sorry i escalated with this one #i just love them #they're so #jkndfjie #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #fanfic

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targaryenluvs · 4 months

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RAVAGE

pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.

warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare

word count: 2k

a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀

part one of delicate

you couldn’t believe it.

coriolanus snow, president of panem.

all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.

so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.

so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.

which you had no idea were there.

coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.

he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.

over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.

“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”

“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”

“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”

coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.

your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.

you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.

what would he say? it was his gift to you!

you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.

“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.

AN HOUR AGO

“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three house with bruises everywhere. and for that?”

shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.

don’t hurt his delicate girl.

PRESENT

you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.

“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.

his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.

coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.

corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”

“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.

“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.

coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.

“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.

the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.

“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”

he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.

“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.

coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your head shoved at his face.

“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.

it was going to be a long night.

#hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #yandere coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games fic #coriolanus snow fic

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sukunasteeth · 1 month

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Taking Care of a Tired Sukuna

Sukuna has had a long day.

Well, night.

Morning.

Fuck.

Working construction had been twisting up his sleeping schedule. At this point, Sukuna was starting to feel it in his body; in the strain in his muscle, and the aches and pains that randomly gripped him.

They had him working on a new project that could only be done at night, while the public was off the main roads, and that meant his new work hours were starting from sometime in the middle of the evening and ending in the morning or the mid-afternoon. Being nocturnal wouldn't be so bad if his commute home wasn't during rush hour. The traffic was always worse when he just wanted to crawl onto his couch and fall asleep there. And when he does come home at the end of the day - he's aching, exhausted, and every bone in his body is vibrating with the noise from a jackhammer or the hum of a forklift.

Sukuna has always liked something that keeps him busy, interested, something that tests his strengths. So, he can't say that he hates the job, but he does wish that it wouldn't occupy so much of his time. He's wont to forget things when he's so wrapped up in a new task.

Like today, for example, when he finally swings his truck around the front of his apartment building, barely making it off the freeway without murdering someone, and he spots your car parked there in his spot.

He starts a bit, his sleep deprived brain suddenly spinning as memory serves him.

That's right. You were supposed to come over today after he got off of work and spend the night- and he didn't plan a damn thing. There's no flowers in the backseat, he didn't stop to grab lunch for the two of you, he doesn't even have anything in his fridge for dinner tonight, besides a few forgotten beers tucked away in the side door.

As Sukuna searches for a parking spot much further down the street, he knows he should be disappointed with himself, but he can't help the touch of excitement that's suddenly dissolving the exhaustion from his muscles. Sometimes, Sukuna resents the fact that you manage to reduce him to this. He hates that he can't control that his heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing you again, like he's in some sappy romance novel.

But it was the hold you had on him, and he was starting to accept it.

You got to Sukuna's apartment about two hours before he was scheduled to be home. It was a day off for you, and you woke up with butterflies fluttering around in your chest.

You were giddy to see him. You always were. And not a single butterfly has died in your heart-space for him since the moment you met Sukuna, around two years ago. He has tended to each of them since then with his gentle but stubborn touch, although, he would never admit it.

You adored him for that.

It's still early in the morning when you use the key he had made for you to unlock his front door. Immediately upon stepping in, you're hit with how dark his studio is. The sun had risen over the horizon hours ago, and yet, the only hint of its light came from a small gap in Sukuna's blackout curtains. When you pull them back, you turn around and wince at the room behind you.

Yep, he's working too hard.

There's construction tools all over the house; sitting on the counter, in the sink, on his bed-stand, there's even a huge oil covered machine beside the front door that you nearly trip on in your trek over to the curtain. His coveralls and work clothes are strewn across the living room like he's been too exhausted to even make it to his bed at the end of his days, which is not very far from the couch. Meanwhile, his bedroom and the kitchen look nearly immaculate, telling you he hasn't cooked in days and confirming your suspicions about his sleeping arrangements. You wander over to his fridge and pop it open, sighing hopelessly when you're greeted with nothing inside.

Good thing he has you.

By the time he makes it home, it's around one in the afternoon. You've got his laundry hanging on the clothesline outside, more in the washing machine, and all of his tools and odds and ends have been sorted and dusted clean. You've opened every window he has, and cool, fresh air sweeps away the oppressed darkness his apartment held before. Everything was back in equilibrium.

When his keys jingle outside the door, you're just finishing up the last of folding his laundry. Sukuna steps inside, and your heart aches at how drained he looks despite the way his eyes widen as he peers around the room in surprise. His clothes are covered in dust from the construction site, and there's a smear of dirt on his cheek that makes him look like a chimney sweep. There's a tool in his hand that looks rather heavy, straining the muscles in his arm, but he seems to have momentarily forgotten to put it down. Half moon circles are embedded under his eyes, but they only bring out the intensity of his gaze.

"Hi 'Kuna?" You chime, calling his attention to rest on you.

He blinks, taking a moment to process the situation. You don't recognize the glimmer in his eyes then, and part of you starts to sweat at the thought of him taking this all wrong. Sukuna had never been particularly picky with you, but vice versa, you had never done something like this for him before. He never gave you the opportunity, after all. Out of the two of you, Sukuna was usually the one who was always effortlessly put together.

"You... cleaned..." He notes.

You swallow, "I did but I didn't move things around though. Just tried to put things back. Your laundry is right outside and I got you some groceries-" Sukuna drops the tool in his hand without warning, and you start talking faster, your voice raising a pitch as he starts towards you. "Okay, thinking back, I guess I should have asked. Maybe texted- no, you hate texting. Maybe called-"

“Did you clean the paint specks off of my air compressor?” He was standing in front of the machine beside the front door, which you painstakingly made sure not to ruin in your cleansing, despite having no idea what it was.

When he looks at you for an answer, continuing to close the distance between the two of you. You swallow the rock in your throat. “Too much?”

He’s made his way across the room and his surprised expression finally settles into a familiar hungry grin. He grabs you by the hem of your jeans, yanking you roughly towards him. You catch yourself on his chest, making a small noise of surprise. When you look up to scold him, Sukuna is an inch away from your face, his lips almost brushing yours, save for half a centimeter of space between them. He smells like sawdust and menthol, you can taste it in the close proximity as he greedily takes your breath away.

“Off. Now.” He growls, but his fingers are already undoing the button clasped in the front of your pants. “I’m about to fuckin’ eat you, sweet thing.”

You end up skipping lunch, but you're well satisfied a few hours later. A certain hunger: satiated. Sukuna is resting peacefully beside you. You can hear his even breathing against the sound of the cicadas outside, screaming in through the windows. Seeing him so content, sets your heart at ease and you release a sigh of relief.

Now, to end the night, it was time to slip out of bed without him noticing to finish folding his laundry.

Or so you thought.

As you carefully peel back the blankets and try to sneak off the side of the mattress, a warm pair of fingers loop themselves around your panty line, effectively preventing you from going anywhere. Guiltily, you peek over your shoulder to see Sukuna glaring at you with half of his face still smushed into his pillow, genuinely disgruntled with the fact that you were trying to leave his bed. You can't help but chuckle.

"I'm just gonna go grab your laundry." You reassure him, brushing a tousled tuft of his hair out of his eyes. The knot between his brows deepens.

"Let me do that later. C'mere. " He tugs on your panty line, confident that you'll be submissive for him.

The sun outside was casting tall shadows on the walls of his bedroom and the glow was now deep and rich, telling you that it was preparing to set. You didn't want Sukuna's laundry on the balcony all night, which is what you were sure would happen if you didn't go and grab it now.

You hear a thread rip in your panty line interrupting your contemplation and, quickly, you grab his wrist, squeezing it as a signal for him to let go.

He continues to hold fast, his brow cocking in a silent dare.

"'Kuna, come on." You try, "Lemme take care of you-"

"You've been doing nothing but take care of me all day." He scoffs, like the idea of it is absurd to him. Rarely does Sukuna allow you the opportunity to show him as much care and adoration as you have today. Being doted on was not typically something he enjoyed. You knew that, and that's how you also knew that he was exhausted to his bones that day. "Get your ass back here."

There's a tug again, and another thread snaps somewhere. You pout at him, already having the foresight that this pair of panties wasn't going to last you long either. Your partner had the tendency to rip them off of you, and this wouldn't be the first pair to become a shred of what they once were. To be fair, he was also known for giving you his credit card and telling you to go buy "some things for him to see you in", so it would be at no cost to you. But, you happened to like this pair.

Sukuna watches you consider your options silently, unrelenting in his hold on your lace. When you peek up at his gaze, testing one more time, you know you've already lost.

"Don't make me chase after you." He warns, the promise of your inevitable surrender is evident in the predatory glint of his eyes. If Sukuna had a tail at that moment, it would be swaying back and forth, preparing for a pounce. "It's been a while since the last time I had you tied up. I do miss those sweet little bruises we left on your wrists."

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention upon his recollection. The last time Sukuna had you in ropes, you had to call off of work the next day. Your backside stings with the memory, but half of you can't help but ache for it too. Tied up in Sukuna's bed while he was forced to care for the boneless pile that was his girlfriend, drunk off of his lovemaking? That wasn't the worst place to be.

But, on the other hand, you could tell how exhausted he was with the new construction project at his job. You have a flashback of showering with him at the end of the night and scrubbing sawdust out of his hair. Having to gently prod and kiss him awake as he fell asleep standing up in front of you. You were adamant that you weren't going to do anything to tire him further tonight.

Before you can properly give in, Sukuna must have decided that you were taking much too long to obey him.

His other hand reaches over and winds around your lower waist, pulling you backwards into the soft cushion of the pillows and easily flipping the two of you so that he’s mounted above you. In your surprised stupor, he collects both of your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head.

"You've forgotten how to follow directions again, kitten." His murmur is like velvet against your ear. His teeth graze over his favorite spot on the nape of your neck, where he’s already tortured it with his teeth and hickies. You didn’t realize how raw the skin was until he bites you there, drawing a whimper from your throat.

"Let's remind you."

#jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #just love the idea of Sukuna coming home filthy #I'd eat it up personally #also good god i want to see this man in a pair of coveralls #my writing

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sweetiecutie · 7 months

Text

🖤Fuck or die🖤

Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!

Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit

A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮‍💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still

It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.

And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.

You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.

Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.

Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.

- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:

- Y/n, get out of here!

Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.

You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.

- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.

- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.

His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.

- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?

Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.

- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.

- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.

- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.

- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.

He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.

- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?

Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.

- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?

You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.

- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.

Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.

You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.

- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?

Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.

- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.

You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.

- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.

- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:

- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.

You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.

- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.

You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.

With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.

- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.

Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.

He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.

Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.

- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.

A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.

- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?

His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.

- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.

With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.

- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.

Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.

One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.

Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:

- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.

Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.

Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.

A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.

It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.

You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.

- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.

As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.

Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.

And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:

SEE YOU SOON ♡

Slasher! König Masterlist

Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3

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h4m1lt0ns · 8 months

Text

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode two :: GET WELL SOON.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔healing is slow, healing is painful, but she has people who love her around so it doesn’t matter how long it takes.

fc – wonyoung jang (aged up to 28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕comfort, angst.

☆ IMESSAGE with ; funeral guest list.

alabono added wifey lily!

princess george added angel carmen!

PIERRE GASLYYYY added girlfriend kika!

chal eclair added babygirl alex!

babygirl alex: “funeral guest list” is crazy 😭

wifey lily: about damn time 💀🤌🏻

angel carmen: i know right like damn

girlfriend kika: we probably didn’t miss out on much let’s be real

alabono: okay chill omfg

y/n changed the group’s name to BOARD OF DIRECTORS!

my baby lando: MOM????

y/n: yes my child 😁

babygirl alex: SHE’S BAAAACK

y/n: YUHHHHHH

princess george: we were so worried abt u bitch what the fuck

chili!: ^^^^^

chal eclair: what the fuck is the point of having a phone if ur not gonna fucking answer like change ur fucking number what the fuck 😐

yukino: like i said, i’ll run him over for you

angel carmen: they were worried if you can’t tell 💀

y/n: i have 350+ new messages and

115 missed calls

y/n: trust me i know they were 🥲

honey badger: so what’s the plan now

girlfriend kika: i say burn his house down and feed his balls to his cats 🤷🏻‍♀️

babygirl alex: hell fucking yeah wtf 🔥🔥🔥

chili!: whatever happened to hello? how are you?

princess george: we don’t need to resort to violence guys 💀

my baby lando: uhm yes we do ??

my baby lando: i say we stab the fucker

alabono: we don’t need a murder charge on our hands bro 😁

angel carmen: oh lando woke up PISSED

my baby lando: i got murder on my mind 🙏🏻

y/n: yellow tape around his body it’s a fucking homicide 🗣

honey badger: wait y/n are you like okay??

chal eclair: yeah you seem normal

y/n:

having the girls with me and knowing that you guys were worried about me because you genuinely care is all i need honestly. like yeah fuck max but thank god i have amazing people like you in my life, i probably would’ve cried myself to sleep if it wasn’t for you guys. i’m so so grateful to be blessed with all of you and i know don’t say it nearly enough but i love you a lot. like really ❤️‍🩹

girlfriend kika: AWWWWWWWW

chili!: 🥲❤️🥲❤️

princess george: sry for calling u a bitch i was mad 💕

y/n: it’s okay georgie

my baby lando: always here for u 🫀🫂

chal eclair: i wanna say something but i’m gonna sound unhinged

PIERRE GASLYYYY: can you not 😃

PIERRE GASLYYYY: like we’re having a moment here

honey badger: i kinda wanna know what he wants to say..

y/n: speak ur truth bestie charles

chal eclair: ur next album is gonna be fire

y/n: you bet your fucking ass it will be 🤭

my baby lando: OHHHHH

chili!: YESSSS

babygirl alex: SLAYYYYY

alabono: LMAOOOO

y/n: now i need everyone to come over so we

can pray on max’s down fall

yukino: 🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻

my baby lando: VROOM VROOM CUNTS

[aug. 16, 2023]

y/n

♡ liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes and 13,384,290 others.

y/n my therapy. my friends. my family. everything i ever wanted is in this silly little group and i wouldn’t change it for the world 🫂 so grateful to have u in my life everyday and i can’t thank u enough for being there for me when i needed you the most. i will always love you. forever. my whole world. 💌 and to my fans, thank u so so much for the sweet messages and all the support u’ve given me. i love you and i can’t wait till we meet again 🫶🏼❤️‍🩹🫧

tagged: danielricciardo, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, yukitsunoda0511, alexalbon, landonorris, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, alexanderasaintmleux.

comments on this post have been limited.

danielricciardo welcome back to the real world

→ y/n thank u for bringing me back danny

landonorris love you the most 🧡

carlossainz55 at your service 🫡

charles_leclerc glad that you’re back to us ❤️

georgerussell63 ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

pierregasly forever violating you in your sleep 😁

→ y/n the way god intended 😁

yukitsunoda0511 love you y/n

lilymhe MY WIFE IS BACKKK 🥹

→ alexalbon come on now

→ y/n mrs steal your girl is back 😼

francisca.cgomes queen. icon even.

→ y/n says you ???

carmenmmundt love u forever 🤍

→ y/n and ever.

alexanderasaintmleux my girlfriend 😩💕

→ charles_leclerc no ??

→ y/n yes.

kellypiquet

♡ liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1 and 492,294 others.

kellypiquet my friend. my family.

90,294 comments.

username copy paste caption i see 😍

username original queen 🔥

username obsessed with y/n huh

username u wanna be y/n soooo bad

username wouldn’t do that if i were you but okay

username how fucking long was he cheating on y/n for

→ username IT MAKES U WONDER HUH

→ username I BEEN SAYIN LIKE ???

→ username no, make it make sense. how are the going to hard launch 48 hours after a break up of a FIVE YEAR LONG RELATIONSHIP and be already going on vacations together? and m*x met her kid too? this had to have been going on for a long long time then.

→ username oh my god.

→ username oh my fucking god you’re onto something.

→ username nOW WAIT A DAMN MINUTE.

→ username thoughts are being thunk alright.

→ username he’s been cheating for a while then

→ username oh y/n :(

username yikes.

username this ain’t it

username 💀💀💀

username be so fucking for real

username this is not the slay you think it is

username bombastic side eye. criminal offensive side eye

username i’m not even sorry y’all i cackled

username screaminggggg what is thisssss

username LMFAOOOOO

username chile lemme mind my own fr

username YOU THOUGHT YOU ATE LOL

username girl 💀

#max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #yuki tsunoda #pierre gasly x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

2K notes · View notes

french-goodbye · 8 months

Text

in the low lamplight

summary: your boyfriend is perfect, except for one tiny little detail.

warnings: conversations about sex; dry humping; consensual slapping and chocking; praise kink; fingering; p in v sex. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

notes: i'm tired of experienced steve and virgin reader all the time. i want steve and confident slutty reader who's more experienced than him and blows his mind. also a little praise kink bc i feel like my boy would be insanely into that. also my first time writing smut!!! i! am! nervous! title from work song by hozier.

it's not that steve is bad in bed, it's quite the opposite actually. but he's just... extremely vanilla. and you totally get it. most of his sexual experiences were with young suburban girls in the back of his car or in his room when his parents weren't home. he was a couple of girls' first time and knowing steve, he probably put their own comfort above his wants. not probably, definitely.

you just wish he was... kinkier. nothing too intense, just something a little more exciting. and it's not that you don't get to cum, you totally do. he knows exactly how to move inside of you, the spots that make your body burn in need and he gives the best head ever, which is a nice bonus.

but after three months together and having sex everytime you have the opportunity to, because you're still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship, it's getting kinda repetitive. it's always missionary, maybe you on top if you're in a particularly bossy mood. but he nevers puts you on all fours or asks you to sit on his face or even sixty-nine. nothing.

you know steve's attracted to you (he isn't exactly shy to tell you how much) so you know that's not the issue, so you've tried so hard to subtly ask him to be rougher, you've tried placing his hand on your neck and squeezing, you've tried guiding his hands to your ass, but you've had no success so far. every single time he'll respectfully pull his hand away and press them to your shoulder or keep them there but not do anything.

but tonight. tonight is the night, you've decided. his parents are out of town (as usual) and it's just you two in the house, you've made sure he's free the whole day the tomorrow (no driving little shits around or shifts at the video store) so you'll have the whole friday night and the next day to yourselves.

you even splurged a bit and purchased a set of overpriced lingerie, way too expensive for just two little scraps of fabric and shaved, exfoliated and moisturized your entire body the night before. you still haven't approached the subject with him, but you've already planned a careful yet objective way to approach the subject and even practiced what you'd say in the mirror and bought a cosmo magazine. you're not exactly proud of yourself for that last one.

your plan is finally set in motion after you and steve get home from work and throw yourselves on his couch, half watching a movie and eat leftovers from the dinner you cooked the night before. when you're both done, you tell him you need a shower, where you use that lavender soap he likes and spray on the perfume he gave you on your birthday. after you're done, he's waiting in his room for you, halfheartedly flipping through the book you're currently reading.

"you can take your shower now" you tell him distractedly, holding the towel you've wrapped around yourself tightly to your body. he finally looks up and realizes your state of undress, his eyebrows shooting up.

"what are you doing?"

you stop going through your over night bag to throw him a confused look, "what are you talking about?"

"you used that soap i like, and that perfume i gave you that you only use on special occasions..." he stands up from the bed and stalks to you, watching you from narrowed eyes, like he's suspicious you're planning his murder. "what are you planning?"

you fake surprise, your hand coming up to clutch imaginary pearls. "me? why would i scheme something against my dear loving boyfriend?"

he looks at you unimpressed and you stand on your tip toes to rest your hands on his chest, his hands coming to support you on your waist and you whisper next to his ear, "okay, maybe i do have something planned... why don't you go take your shower and find out?"

he glances at you one last time before squeezing your waist and letting you go.

"fine..." he sighs dramatically, "i'll go"

once he's locked the door behind him, you put on your recently purchased underwear and bra on. you throw on one of his old highschool t-shirts since he once mentioned how much he likes seeing you wearing them.

by the time he gets out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam surrounding him, you're sitting on his bed, rubbing lotion on your legs and he's shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants, that hang low on his hips, his hair half dry as he finishes towel drying it.

you tsk and shake your head disheartened. "oh- wow, okay, harrington"

he glances at you once and goes back to drying his hair. "huh?"

"the chest, the scandalous dick print..." you explain and gesticulate towards him. "are you trying to seduce me or something?"

"why are you looking at my dick? you interested?" your stomach burns with insinuation but you ignore him, simply tucking your lotion back into your bag.

"i mean... it's hard not to notice when you're whoring yourself around" you shrug with fake nonchalance.

he scoffs loudly at you, going back into the bathroom quickly to hang both of your towels and getting on your way when you're about to climb on the bed after having dropped your bag in the corner.

"i'm whoring myself?" he looms over you, hand resting on your shoulder to snap the strap of your bra that's peeking from his shirt "you're the one wearing a new bra babe."

you don't answer, simply slapping his hand away and climbing on the bed, intentionally giving him a peek of your ass as you finally sit near the foot of the bed, with your legs crossed.

"why don't you turn off the lights and come take a look?"

he earnestly complies, almost tripping on a sweater he left on the bedroom floor earlier that day as he does what you asked. he lights the lampshade on his bedside table and walk towards you, leaning down to reach you when you stop him.

"no" you say firmly. "go sit on the bed, near the headboard."

he complies, but not without giving you a look. "ooh, bossy"

you turn to watch him and can't help the spark that lights up in your tummy. he looks ridiculous attractive, hair fluffy from not being styled properly, his hairy chest all on display for you and his thick spread legs giving a privileged view of his dick in those sweatpants. it's almost criminal, but you swallow it down and keep going with your plan.

you crawl to him on all fours, purposefully, until you're between his legs.

"i don't know about bossing " you run a long manicured fingernail through his thick chest hair. "but i was thinking about something i'd like to try with you..." you only stop when your fingers are almost at his waistband and you swirl your fingers around his bellybutton. you glance at his face and he almost looks dazed, eyes following your finger avidly.

hook, line and sinker.

your boyfriend was almost too easy sometimes.

"yeah, babe... whatever you want" you hold back your laughter and finally climb on top of his legs, his eyes following the curve of your hips and your bare legs as you straddle him.

"how do you feel about chocking?" you ask, making his gaze shift to your face.

"chocking? are you serious?"

"yeah, i think it'd be really good to have your hands around my neck" his fingers dig tightly on your hips, but you can tell he's still unsure.

"what if i hurt you?"

"if it makes you feel better, we can have a safe word and we can immediately stop if one of us says it. no questions asked"

"what if you can't speak?"

"then i can just tap you three times, like this?" you demonstrate, tapping his shoulder. "is that okay?"

he nods quietly, so you ask: "what if i do it on you first so you know what it feels like?"

"yeah, sure"

you gently put your hands on his throat, not applying pressure yet, just resting there.

"you just have to make sure you squeeze the sides, not on top so you don't stop airflow" you explain, spreading your fingers so they're on each side of his throat and squeezing carefully. steve himself is more surprised than you when his breath stutters and he lets an almost groan out.

"did you like that?"

"fuck yeah, that's super hot" he tells you breathlessly, surprising you with a forceful kiss. he manages to distract you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against yours as his fingers squeeze your hips and start guiding you to grind on his lap. you let him call the shots for a moment, slowly moving your hips against his now half hard cock and sinking your fingers on his hair to scratch his scalp lovingly.

however, when his hands start to wander underneath your borrowed shirt you bite his lip softly, letting it slot back in place as you pull away.

he's about to complain, big brown eyes staring at you and almost pouting. you press your pointer finger to his lips, silencing him, hips still moving at a torturously slow pace against him.

"there's one more thing, actually" you move your finger away and trace his bottom lip carefully.

"more?" his eyebrows raise in question.

"what about you... i don't know, maybe you can be a rough with me? like slapping me a little bit"

"slapping?! babe, i don't wanna hurt you and i don't-"

"you slap my ass all the time!" you accuse him, reminding him of all the times you'd walk past him or bend down and he had slapped your butt teasingly.

"yeah, jokingly"

"babe, i trust you" you grip his face, forcing him to look at you. "i know you'd never hurt me if i didn't ask you to. i just think it'd be really hot, and who knows... maybe you'll like it too. and if you really don't like it we'll never speak of this again" you shrug, gently pushing his hair from his face.

"you sure?" you nod and press a quick kiss to his lips.

"if you wanna stop just say red, okay? anytime."

"yeah, i like that"

"you'll tell me if you wanna stop, right?" you press another quick kiss to his lips in thanks.

he nods eagerly "you too, okay? just say the word and we'll stop" you nod in agreement. "okay... but now what? do i just... jump right into it?"

"no... what about we start the way we always do before having sex?" you smirk, starting to move your hips in slow circular motions again and his hands slide down your back to slip under your t-shirt again.

he laughs huskily next to ear, making you shiver. "we're really good at that", his lips make contact with the skin of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses there. you keep moving on top of him, hands sinking into his hair and keeping him there.

"fuck, steve" you whine when he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, moulding fat like dough underneath his fingertips.

suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your backside as steve slaps your ass. you whine deep in your throat and your hips stutter in their rhythm against his lap.

"oh, you really like it when i do that"

"god, i do" you breathlessly tell him with a smile, tugging his hair harshly to guide him to your mouth. "you like this too, don't you? just wanna give me what i need, huh baby?"

"i do, i do. just want my girl to feel good" he whines against your mouth, while he spreads your ass and digs his fingers into your skin.

you kiss him some more, until you can feel his now hard cock against you, through the lace fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants. his hand lift up your t-shirt and carefully takes it off of you.

"god, you're gorgeous" you push on his chest gently until his back is against the headboard so you can show him the whole thing, from the intricate lace to the small straps keeping everything together. "you got this for me?" he teases you, his hands playing with your underwear, pulling it and letting it snap against the skin of your hip.

"yeah..." you answer distractedly, his cock rubbing in a very nice spot near your covered clit. his hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing your pebbled nipple through your bra. "you like it?"

"fuck yeah, i love it" one of his hand cups your breast, while the other pushes the fabric of your bra down so he can pull and twist your nipple.

you're already a mess on top of him, feeling the wetness on your underwear sticking to your folds, when he lowers his head to suck your nipple into his mouth and his hand plays with your other breast. the nails of your left hand dig half crescent moons on his bare shoulders while the other tug on his hair to keep him there and your head drops back in pleasure.

his hand stops massaging your breasts and you're about to complain when you feel it start to slip down your stomach and hook under your underwear to rub his fingers through your wetness, his knuckles grazing your clit. you hold him tighter, a loud moan leaving your lips when he sinks two fingers inside of you.

"yes, yes, yes, baby" you whine, hiding your face in his hair as he realeases your nipple with a lewd pop.

"you're so fucking wet" he rasps against you and sucks a mark on the swell of your breast, pumping his fingers in and out of you as the palm of his hand rubbing on your clit everytime he moves. "god, you feel so good around my fingers. can't wait to have my dick inside you."

you're lost in the rhythm of it, his palm brushing your clit at every stroke, the feeling of his lips sucking on your chest and his hips bucking underneath yours occasionally. but you finally reach your peak when his free hand slips down your back and slaps your ass again, harder this time, palming it underneath his fingertips.

"that's it... come for me, baby" you pull him to your mouth again as you come down and he guides you through it, still feeling yourself clenching on his fingers as you twitch in his lap.

"god, you're so fucking hot" you whisper against his mouth, still breathless. "you're so good to me, baby. such a good boy"

suddenly, he's holding you tighter and manhandling you, roughly dropping you on your back and looming over you between your knees. before you can react, he's ripping off his sweatpants and throwing it on his bedroom floor.

he stands completely naked in front of you, helping you spread your legs. you eye him lustfully, from his mussed hair to his throbbing cock standing tall, the tip pink and dripping with a little pre cum.

"can i go down on you?" you ask him avidly, starting to lift yourself up but he stops you, holding your wrist above your body.

"nuh-uh, baby. i'm gonna blow my load if you do that" he denies and you giggle, about to complain when he licks the palm of his free hand and strokes himself one, two, three times, shutting you up real quick. he's starting to align himself with your entrance when you stop him.

"wait, wait" he stops immediately.

"what? what's wrong?"

"i want you from behind"

he groans, dropping his head on the curve of your neck and letting go of your wrists. "you really can't say shit like that to me if you want me to last"

you giggle and tap his shoulder sympathetically, "you'll live". you lightly scratch his back, sliding your hands from his shoulder to his lower back and wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the tip of his cock nudging your inner thigh. "now... why don't you put me on my knees, handsome?"

he quickly moves to reposition you, helping you lift yourself up and pushing your spine down gently when you get on your knees. you lower your torso all the way until your chest is pressed against his bedsheets, lifting your ass up.

"fuck, baby. you look so good like this" he says when he slots himself behind you.

"maybe you should listen to me more, harrington" you tease, looking at him from over your shoulder as he kneads your ass.

"maybe i should, pretty girl" he answers distractedly, and you feel his thumb spreading your entrance. "look at this pretty pussy"

you moan and try to wriggle in the hold he has on your hips, "steeeve-"

he laugh mockingly and starts rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. "you this desperate babe?"

before you can answer he starts sinking himself inside, both of you sighing at the feeling. when he's finally inside you can't help the moan that escapes you, his big cock filling you up beautifully and the stretch in this position making you feel so full. however, his strokes are slow and languid and while that's nice, it's not exactly what you need.

"come on, babe" you grumble, trying to rock your hips against his grip. "fuck me like you mean it"

he scoffs and speeds up, his hand wrapping around your hair to press your face against his mattress and to keep you still, changing the angle slightly and pressing right against your spot inside of you.

"is this how you want it?" he huffs, slapping you again.

"oh god, yes. right there!"

he pulls you up until you're both kneeling on the bed, his hips slapping against your ass. his free hand climbs up your chest until it's resting on your neck. "do you want-?"

"yes, i want it. please, please, choke me" you interrupt, begging him to keep going, begging him for more. his fingers carefully start squeezing you throat and you wrap your hand around his to guide him until the pressure is just right.

"squeezing my cock so tight, baby. should've told me you wanted this sooner."

you don't get to answer, his free hand suddenly slipping down to rub circles on your clit and you're gone, your orgasm hitting you like a fright train. he helps you ride it out, until you gently pull his hand away and bend down again, resting your weight on your elbows.

"your turn, baby" you tell him, tilting your head slightly so you can see him.

he starts babbling and pressing you harder against the bed, a clear sign that he's close himself. he bends down, his chest against your back until he can stretch his hand out to hold yours against the mattress and he can babble against your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how much he loves being inside you.

"that's it, babe. you made me feel so good, it's your turn now" you tell him, still slightly breathless and sensitive around his cock. "please come, need you to come so bad"

"god, i'm gonna cum" and it's all it takes to feel him pull out and finish himself off on your back. you're both still for a second as you catch your breath and he squeezes your hand still intertwined in his gently. when you turn your face to the side to see him, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

he taps your hips gently as he gets up and goes to the bathroom, coming back quickly to wipe you and himself clean with a wet washcloth. when he's done he throws it on top of the rest of his dirty laundry, still thrown on his bedroom floor.

when he finally turns to you, you're finally laying on your back and getting comfortable on his pillow. steve throws himself next to you and his arms immediately wrap around your waist. you hug him back, guiding his head to rest on top of your bare chest, now littered with purpling marks.

"you had fun, pretty girl?"

"you couldn't tell?" you laughter, his head shaking slightly against your chest as you comb his hair away from his face and his breath against your skin.

"god, i'm obsessed with you" he complains, hiding his face on your boob. you laugh, gently coaxing his face away so you can see him.

"that's good," you smooth the messy hairs on his eyebrow. "i'm pretty obsessed with you too"

"we're pretty perfect for each other then"

"you should keep me forever" you tease, tracing his features gently. he presses a kiss to your sternum and gets comfortable against you.

"maybe i will"

it sounds like a pretty good deal.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington smut #i wrote this instead of working on my thesis 😃#i wasn't sure if i should post this but i got so much love on my last fic it made me braver so 🙃#mine

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cauliflowercounty · 2 months

Text

Knives Dance (Part II)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

Summary: You and your father address your people to quell the seeds of unrest on Youra. Realizing the resolute dedication of your people, Baron Vladimir begins to conspire against you and your homeworld, something you and Feyd will not take lying down when you put a plan of your own in motion.

Warnings: visceral imagery, more death, reader goes a little mental

Word Count: 6.0k

Part I | Part II | Part III

Breaking your kiss reluctantly, Feyd looks around at the twenty some odd soldiers you’ve both just killed, exhilaration and admiration for you still coursing through his veins. “I’m sorry to do this, but I must ask something of you, Feyd,” you say, looking down at both of your garments saturated in blood.

“Anything,�� he responds without a second thought. He knows he means it.

“You must not let anyone know what I showed you or that I was fighting alongside you tonight.” You walk over and pick up your second blade that Feyd tossed away, strapping it back to your thigh along with the other one. Next, you collect Ozran’s knife and hand it to Feyd. It’s light and flimsy in his grasp compared to your daggers, truly a laughable excuse for a murder weapon. An animal being killed for supper deserves to be killed by a better blade than this. You fasten your cloak back onto your person, and it consumes your body again, making it seem as if you hadn’t just butchered half the dead around you. “These are my best kept secrets. You must say that it was you who killed all of our attackers.”

“Of course,” he replies, and you press a soft kiss on his lips in thanks. As soon as he leans in to kiss you back, approaching footsteps become audible. It’s your father, the baron, and a fleet of Youran guards with their weapons drawn.

“Let’s give them a little show, shall we?” you whisper against his lips. As soon as they come into view, Feyd feels you fall into his arms, spotting delicate tears collecting on lower lashes. He brings his arms around you, cradling your figure as you sink to the ground and begin quaking in his embrace, which makes his heart twinge.

Your father calls out to you, aghast as he spots the dead bodies surrounding you and Feyd. The look on your father’s face is as if he’s worried you might turn to dust. He kneels beside you, taking you out of Feyd’s arms and into his own. “We heard commotion from the castle and came as quickly as we could. Are you injured, my darling child? What happened?”

“F-Father, I am alright, ” you quiver, breath shaky as you lean into him. “It was so scary, though! Na-Baron and I were on a nighttime stroll, and suddenly a poisoned dart flew out of nowhere and nearly hit me. When we looked over to see where it came from, Ozran was approaching us with a wild look in his eyes.” You’re sobbing into your Father’s chest at this point, tear stains soaking into your father’s clothes, and Feyd cannot help but be impressed by your theatrics. “Ozran said he was unhappy with our dealings with House Harkonnen. He meant to kill us to make a point, but Na-Baron courageously disarmed Ozran and struck him down. As soon as that happened, Ozran’s loyalists began to strike, but they were no match for Na-Baron.”

Hearing those words, Feyd sees his uncle lift his chin up in pride, delighting in the thought of Feyd emerging victorious over twenty, killing in cold blood. Your father lets out a sigh of relief, pulling you closer in his arms as he holds the back of your head. “It’s alright, y/n. You are still alive, and Ozran cannot hurt you any longer,” he whispers before looking up to Feyd. “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. I am most grateful. Thank you for saving my daughter from those criminals. I am in your debt.”

Feyd sees his Uncle’s eyes glimmer with excitement. Your father shouldn’t have said that. His uncle never passed up an opportunity to prey on those indebted to the Harkonnens. Before, Feyd also enjoyed the manipulation of other peoples, but now that his uncle has his sights set on you, a growing sense of unease begins to build, and he can’t bring himself to look at his uncle.

“It was my honor to fight for your daughter tonight,” Feyd replies. “I am glad I was here to protect her life, and I would do the same again.”

Your father brings you to your feet, your cloak still concealing your stained battle gear underneath. You bring the back of your hand up to wipe away your tears, letting out a meek sniffle. Feyd keeps trying to remind himself that what you’re doing is just and act, a way of protecting your secrets from his devious uncle, but Feyd’s chest continues to ache seeing you cry. If he had his way, nothing would make you shed a tear ever again.

“If there were this many attackers tonight, that means we have unrest on our hands. There are sure to be more of them.” your father says, turning to one of the soldiers. “Call the citizens to the castle, and prepare the thrones.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the guard says, turning on his heel and hurrying away, and Feyd watches as he disappears.

“I do hope this does not mean the marriage will be called off,” Baron Vladimir interjects with a leading stare at your father. Your father shakes his head straight away.

“Of course not, Baron. I value our alliance. We will handle our people. I assure you, the marriage will happen on Giedi Prime,” your father says as the sound of a horn reverberates across the island nation. “Would you be present for the address tonight?”

His uncle obliges, and the guards guide everyone through the winding hallways. After a few minutes, they exit the fortress through another set of doors, and the group emerges onto an enormous stone platform overlooking an open basin lined with towering columns. Two grand thrones stand in the middle of the platform: one for you and one for your father. Instead of stone like their surroundings, they’re made of thick, twisty branches of a rich, dark wood that have grown into the shape of chairs. It’s almost as if these chairs were borne out of the very nature on the island.

Feyd looks down to the land below the platform. People are quickly gathering below at a remarkable rate. He sees citizens emerging from all directions from the surrounding mountain range. Multiple cable cars whose lines stretch from inside the forest to the basin approach. Light shines outward from the compartments, and Feyd sees they’re positively filled with people. When the cars meet the ground, the stained glass doors open and people flow out and into the crowd while others run across the wooden bridges out from under the trees.

Your father beckons all of you forward once the crowd has amassed. When you and your father come into the people’s view, there is a roar of cheers. Feyd sees people start to raise their hands and clap for you as the crowd begins a melodic chanting of “House Ronen! House Ronen!” The way they rally for their leaders is earnest and true, a sight to behold.

You take a seat at your throne as your father does. You gesture to Feyd to come stand behind your chair and the baron floats beside your father’s throne. When the crowd spots the Harkonnens, some of the cheers turn to murmurs, which rumble through the group as more people begin to whisper to one another. Your father raises his palm to the people, and they fall silent.

“Thank you, my dear friends, for coming at this hour. I would not have called you if I didn’t think it was important,” your father’s voice booms. “We have something very important to tell you tonight."

He gestures over to you and you rise from your seat and step forward, once again holding your cape closed. The armed guards advance on the sidelines, holding their weapons at their sides to protect you. You pause and gaze out at your people before centering yourself, holding your head high with poise appropriate for a lady of your stature.

“I would like to echo my father’s thanks for your time and presence,” you begin, your voice collected and commanding. “Not an hour ago, there was an attempt at my life at the Pools of Ashora.” A wave of disbelief propagates through the crowd. Some cup their hand to their mouths and others begin to whisper to their neighbors. A few let out roars of anger, but Feyd swears he sees a few snigger at the news.

“Twenty men led by researcher Ozran Neyru ambushed me and Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen tonight. As you can see, the endeavor to end my life was unsuccessful. During the attack, Ozran told me he and the others were motivated because of my upcoming marriage to Na-Baron Harkonnen, that their belief is I am betraying our ideals by allowing the House of Harkonnen into our circle. I do not doubt there are others that feel the same as him, and I have come to offer you an explanation, which I feel you all deserve.”

There are nods through the crowd. Some seem undeniably compelled with your speech while others cross their arms with skepticism. You glance over to your father, gestures with his hand for you to proceed.

“I have lived on Youra all of my life. It is my homeland, and a place I care deeply for. When I was seven, I drank from the sacred pool on top of our great mountain, and when I was sixteen, I had my own Rite like each of you. I know what being Youran is because I have lived it from the moment I took my first breath. I’ve grown up knowing our stories and our traditions, and I love the society we’ve been able to build.

“Looking out upon you tonight under the glow of the lanterns, I think of the tale of Zeyred, who was the first to release lanterns at nighttime to guide the souls of our departed to their final destination amongst the stars after he mistook a shooting star for the soul of his dead mother. Zeyred used what he thought was the truth and created a wonderful tradition in order to help loved ones on their final journey. Since then, we have left behind the notion that souls go to the stars once life is over, but we still release lanterns every night to pay our respect for him and the Yourans of his time. It reminds ourselves of where we come from.”

Feyd sees an air of nostalgia wash over the crowd and a few clutch their hearts, admiration growing in their eyes as you recount the traditional Youran folktale.

“This practice of using truth for the betterment of others is ancient, but it still remains the lifeblood of Youra today. By seeking truth in our collective research, we’ve developed elixirs that have eliminated diseases that have historically killed many. We’ve found ways to protect our crops from failure. We’ve made advances in engineering to improve our ships and travel around our planet and beyond, broadening our quest for knowledge. By following truth, our quality of life on Youra has improved because of the choices our predecessors have made more than any of us alive today will ever know or appreciate. We’ve found countless ways of providing for and protecting others.” Mumbles of agreement echo from below. Some nod their heads to one another. The citizenry is certainly taking to your argument, and Feyd is in awe of your eloquence and composure.

“Tonight, I have witnessed an undeniable truth: the prowess of House Harkonnen. I have seen strength, valor, and loyalty in Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, without whom I would not be standing here in front of you. As a woman of Youra, I put my faith in what is real, which is why I am putting my faith in the House of Harkonnen.

“This union is not a departure from our ideals. If anything, it is a commitment to them. It is my way of protecting you. It will strengthen our society by putting us under the wing of the greatest major house and those we care for is simply getting a little larger. I have made this decision for the betterment of all of us. I ask you to join me in the celebration of this union when I depart for Giedi Prime.”

The crowd erupts in cheers as you let out gasp in amazement at the overwhelming support by your people. Even the soldiers around you raise their weapons to the sky in support. You bow to your nation, thanking them for their time. Some of the people in the crowd begin to chant Feyd’s name, thanking him for saving their beloved Lady, which catches him by surprise. Your father claps at your address, and Feyd joins him in applause, commending your efforts.

The people are dismissed and the Youran soldiers guide Feyd and the others back into the castle. As the group is safely indoors, you grasp one of Feyd’s hands on your own and press a kiss on his closest cheek and lean in to whisper “Thank you, Feyd.”

As you pull back, you and your father bow to the Harkonnens before you return to your quarters, still encircled by guards. Watching you disappear behind a corridor, Feyd notices his heart longing for your company. He thinks of the way you two moved in perfect sync during your fight. The fiery look in your eyes during the battle was thrilling to behold. His mind lingers on you as he reminisces about the feeling he had of bolts of lightning shooting through his veins when you kissed him. Just as soon as he's entranced, he’s ripped out of his fantasy by his uncle’s fingers clenched around his shoulder.

“Come,” his uncle orders, and Feyd follows as they return to the guest wing of the fortress. The walk to the guest wing is eerily silent. All that can be heard is footsteps and the gentle whirring and occasional clicks that come from his uncle’s medical contraptions. His uncle beckons him into his own quarters after the guards bid them goodnight. The baron floats into the room while instructing Feyd to close the door behind him.

This guest suite is an exact replica of the one Feyd is staying in. The walls are covered in painstakingly crafted tapestries and the furniture is made of a red-brown wood with a bold grain that looks like billows of smoke. An entire wall is a floor to ceiling window that leads to a balcony which overlooks the ocean. The soft reflection of the moonlight from the water’s surface streams through the window, illuminating half of the baron’s face in a stark white light while the other is cast in a sinister shadow. His uncle calls Feyd closer, and he obeys.

“Well done, Feyd,” is the first thing his uncle says to him in a low voice. “The Yourans may still be outside, so we must be quiet.” Feyd nods to his uncle in understanding as he notices his uncle’s unbridled grin, the one he only has when he’s plotted something truly heinous. “The Yourans are weaker than I ever imagined. I knew they were a society of wisdom, but I never expected them to leave themselves so… vulnerable.” The baron’s eyes are now ablaze with savagery. Saying the words out loud has lit the flames of cruelty that burns in his soul. “The fact that you killed twenty of them in the time between us hearing the attack and arriving in the courtyard single handedly is a true testament to their sheer mediocrity. I shall reward you when we are back on Giedi Prime. How about another mistress this time? I will ensure she’s properly broken for you.”

I don’t want your praise. I don’t want your gifts, Old Man, Feyd thinks, resisting the urge to grab ahold of his uncle’s neck, strangle him, and feel his trachea shatter under his thumbs.

“I was originally frustrated at you, Feyd. I wondered why you simply didn’t allow them to kill her, but you’ve done well, despite your lack of foresight. We will not have to take the planet by force. Now we have a way to win over the people of Youra, and they will soon be ours. Lady Ronen is foolish. She thinks their principles will keep them safe, but their dedication to their values will be their downfall.”

Feyd conceals his clenched fist from his uncle’s view as he collects himself. He must not be rash. Instead, he suppresses his emotions, and he asks his uncle “What are you proposing?”

“We take her to Giedi Prime, and once the marriage is sealed, I want you to kill her.” Those words make Feyd’s blood run cold. Kill you? After everything that’s happened? After the fear of losing you had already struck his heart once today? Feyd will not allow it. “We shall tell them it was natural.” The Baron continues with a venomous tone. “…and that it was her dying wish for her people to honor our alliance.” The baron grins, bearing his inky, black teeth. Frightening images of your dead body crumpled on the glossy black floors of Giedi Prime flash in Feyd’s mind with your beautiful eyes blank and unseeing, which makes his head begin to spin. “You saw how they rallied around her tonight. They are so dedicated to her that they will honor her wishes even in death. The planet Youra will be ours, Feyd. We will take the bounty of their work to Arrakis where we will kill Muad'dib, and the House of Harkonnen will emerge victorious.”

With that, the baron shoos his nephew out of the room. On the other side of the door, Feyd balls his fists and clenches his teeth so tightly it’s a wonder they haven’t cracked under the pressure. Instead of returning to his quarters, he walks through the corridors of the palace straight to yours, trying to hold his breath steady as the bile within him threatens to pour over. Outside of your room, there are armed guards keeping watch over the entrance. One knocks at the door when he requests to see you and slips inside once you permit the guard entrance.

Moments later, you emerge at the door. You’ve cleaned up since he last saw you and you’re no longer in your cloak and battle gear. Instead, you wear a light, flowy nightdress that hugs your waist and reflects the moonlight exquisitely. You reach out to Feyd and bring his hands together near your chest. Feyd’s heart skips and you raise yourself up on your toes to kiss him in earnest. He sighs into the softness of your lips. Having you so close and being graced by your touch is one of the greatest privileges he has ever received. As you break away, there’s a look of concern on your face.

“Would you like to come inside?” you ask him softly and he nods. As soon as he enters, you close the door and lock it behind you. He lets out a frustrated hiss, finally able to express his frustration as he sits down in an armchair chair and rests his elbows on his thighs. He his head in his hands in frustration. “What’s wrong, Feyd?”

“My uncle is plotting. He wishes for me to murder you after we wed. He thinks you weak and your people impressionable,” Feyd seethes, closing his eyes and running his hands along the back of his neck. “I couldn’t ever bring myself to do that to you, but I know my uncle. If I don’t do it, he will have someone who doesn't care for you like I do carry out the deed instead. He plans to take control of your planet and your people when you are gone.”

For the first time in years, Feyd feels like he’s on the verge of tears, something that the baron had him beaten for until his bones shattered when Feyd was a child. He has only just found you. You’ve begun to heal his heart and put the light back in his eyes. You’ve shown him unwarranted kindness and let him bask in your affections. You’ve given him someone to fight for, and just as soon as he’s found his salvation in you, it’s about to be taken from him. Bringing your thumb up to his cheek, you wipe the small droplet that threatens to spill over away.

“Do not worry, my love,” you whisper to him, taking the opportunity to gently nuzzle his neck, and he sinks into your embrace. “Please dry your eyes.”

“We have to get rid of him. We need a plan,” Feyd says with conviction, and you nod. As he looks up at you, his worries seem to fade when he senses your fortitude. You support his cheek with your delicate touch and stare into his eyes. Behind your irises he sees a glint of devilishness.

“I know of a way, Feyd. We’ll silence Baron Vladimir, and in the end, we will install you as the ruler of Giedi Prime. You will be Feyd-Rautha, Baron of the House of Harkonnen.”

–

The people of Youra come to see you off in droves as you depart for the wedding. Everyone is dressed in their very best as they watch you precess toward the Harkonnen vessel accompanied by your father, the baron, and your bodyguards. Some parents have brought their children to catch a glimpse of you as you depart, the young Yourans perched on their parents’ shoulders to get a better view of you. You wave to them, and the children smile excitedly when you acknowledge them. Feyd marvels at your people's continued love and affection for you as he offers his arm to you. The Baron glances over to Feyd as the citizens cheer for you, nearly drooling at the prospect of dominating this society. Feyd looks away from his uncle as you take his arm, his determination rising. He will not permit his uncle’s scheme to go to fruition.

Under Giedi Prime’s black sun, the wedding proceeds as planned by Baron Vladimir. The entirety of Giedi Prime’s populace gathers to watch the union of Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha and the Lady of House Ronen. You wed each other in front of the crowd for all to see, wearing Harkonnen garb next to the baron and your father. Feyd cannot look away from you. You are beautiful in every way. The dress seems to hang delightfully on every curve of your physique. The long sleeves that extend just beyond your wrists conform to the shape of your arms perfectly. The rectangular cutout filled with sheer mesh placed perfectly over your breastbone is something Feyd cannot help but stare at. The splendor is so befitting of your stature, and all he can think of is him and his Baroness ruling Giedi Prime together one day.

You and Feyd each receive a necklace of dark stone plates from his uncle, marking your marriage. Feyd grasps your body firmly as he kisses you, his mind consumed with you and you alone as he cups your waist. You are finally his to have and to hold, and how wonderful that is to him. The crowd chants for Feyd when he raises your intertwined fingers for the crowd to see. The people exalt him, and the baron smiles from the sidelines as the alliance is sealed.

During the celebratory banquet, you and Feyd make careful effort to keep you away from the baron, lest he has other plans for you. The night goes on, the fireworks inky in the air and Harkonnen music playing to the late hours. As the lights fade and the diplomats go home, you bid your father goodbye, promising you will return to Youra soon. As his ship disappears into the night, Feyd comes to stand next to you. It’s almost time. You’ve been summoned to the baron’s personal chambers. You and Feyd walk in silence to the baron’s room through the empty halls. Outside the door that separates the two of you and the baron, there are no guards.

“It’s a trap,” you mouth to Feyd, careful to not make any noise. He gives you the smallest nod in agreement. Luring his victims into a false sense of security is something the baron always loved to do. Once they thought they were safe, the baron would turn their relief into agony and despair, relishing the emotional differential, torturing them until they begged for death after which he would oblige. Luckily, you and Feyd both know better, and you’ve come prepared.

Together, you both press one of your palms on one of the double doors and push them open. The room is inky black inside, only lit by horizontal strips of lighting. In the center sits the baron in a tub of viscous black sludge. Proceeding slowly, Feyd sees you mark every object in the room, creating a mental log for yourself. Nobody else is in the room. It’s just the baron in his tub.

“Welcome Feyd and Na-Baroness,” the baron says, taking a puff from his pipe as he leans backward in his tub. You both approach him, but are careful to distance yourself from the tub. “I wanted to congratulate you both on your marriage. Our people seem quite enthralled with you, na-Baroness,” the baron comments before clicking his tongue and taking another huff. “I- We wanted to present you with a gift to welcome you to our House.”

The Baron gestures for Feyd to come closer, and he obeys as the baron extends his arm to gesture at a black box that sits near the edge of his tub. The Baron raps his fingers on the box once as his eyes maliciously dart between it and Feyd. Feyd knows what this box is. Inside are his poisoned knives. As Feyd looks at the box, he can hear his uncle’s voice from the night on Youra in his mind: “Kill her!”

Looking back toward the doorway, two Harkonnen soldiers, armed with the barbs they use to subdue slaves in gladiatorial fights, have silently entered the room with their weapons drawn. Their stances are wide. When they step, they shift side to side, using the outside edge of their feet to make their footsteps barely audible. They approach you from behind, but Feyd knows you’ve already sensed them when your eyes narrow and your spine straightens as you moderate your breathing.

“Now!” the baron bellows to the soldiers, who throw their hooks at you, aiming for your shoulders. With the greatest of ease, you duck downward, allowing the prongs to soar over your head and clatter on the floor at the base of the tub. You grasp the lines the soldiers are holding in your hands. Standing back up, you twirl and swing one of your legs up and around the lines attached to the barbs. Using your foot as a hook, you force the lines downward and towards yourself, and the men topple over in their place as the lines are tugged toward you. They yell out in shock.

Feyd sees his uncle’s face contort in horror as he is frozen and at a loss for words. Clearly none of the three were expecting any resistance from you to be successful. You yank the ends of the barbs toward you and wrap your hands around the long rods. Dashing toward the entrance of the room, you make contact with one of them, killing them with a single blow before they have a chance to react. The other one whimpers in fear, watching his comrade fall before attempting to scramble back to the entrance on his hands and knees.

“FEYD, DO SOMETHING!” the baron hisses as you strike down the other who only makes it a few feet before your weapon collides with the back of his neck. The second barbman falls to the ground, motionless. Feyd opens up the case and takes his knives out, holding them steady at his side. As he approaches you, Feyd’s eyes flicker to the side toward where the baron lays in his vat of ooze, directing you to bring the fight closer to his uncle. Your gaze intensifies, and you lower your stance, using the sharp edge of each barb to cut the lines away.

“Let’s dance, my dear husband,” you coo at him as you raise your weapons and rush at each other. The shrill sound of metal clashing fills the air. You both know each other’s moves now. As one attacks, the other easily parries, neither one of you coming close to inflicting real harm. Feyd feels the tingling of excitement in his soul. Fighting with you before was exhilarating on Youra, but this is something else. He can finally see your beauty in all its glory. The way your body contorts like an acrobat as you dodge and counter flawlessly. How your brow furrows when you take on one of his blows with impeccable form is a sight to behold. You are nothing short of a miracle.

From the tub, the baron bellows, “Kill her, NOW!” You and Feyd continue, circling around the tub so that you come closer to the baron. With a signal to Feyd and one swift move, you knock baron’s hand closest to his control panel away, preventing him from calling for help. The Baron gasps in surprise. You couldn’t have known that’s where the controls are unless you were told. The realization dawns on him too late; he feels the sting of Feyd’s blade on his neck. He looks up at his nephew in horror.

Feyd drops his other knife and uses his free hand to force his uncle’s mouth open. The Baron chokes and gasps as the nephew he has groomed into a ruthless monster turns on him. The Baron tries to tell Feyd to unhand him as a desperate last effort as he struggles in the tub, but Feyd’s grip on his uncle is unwavering and only gets rougher. Feyd’s mind is ablaze. This is his revenge for plotting to kill you and for a lifetime of abuse at his hand.

In the past, Feyd revered his uncle, admired his iron grip on Giedi Prime, and thought that the baron was what he should aspire to be, but Feyd sees the truth now, looking down at his uncle writing in his grasp to no avail. His uncle is and always has been pathetic. It takes all the strength Feyd has in himself not to crack his Uncle’s neck right there. Feyd quells his impulsiveness. The plan must proceed as you arranged.

You approach from behind and stick two fingers in the baron’s mouth, stretching his cheek out as far as it will go. The baron whimpers as he spies something stirring under your sleeves. It circles down your arms and out from under the black fabric. It’s a black centipede with thick, glossy armor. It must be half the length of your arm, and the baron’s eyes quiver as it crawls onto the back of your hand and into his gaping maw. He chokes as the legs scuttle and scratch at his tongue. The creature forces itself down his esophagus. The baron feels the creature thrash, and he can almost hear the chitin armor clicking against itself from within him as he chokes on it.

“Don’t move,” you tell the baron with a dark smile. The baron’s fear is thick and palatable in the air. “She won’t like it if her host moves too much.” You remove your fingers from his mouth and recoil at his saliva. “What shall I have her do first? Maybe I’ll have her paralyze your vocal chords so you don’t go blabbing to anyone?” Your victim looks at you in desperation, but you tisk at him before letting out a rhythmic series of clicks through your teeth. The Baron feels the head of the creature wriggle inside of him back up into his throat. The Baron coughs. Gasping out in pain, he feels a searing pinch. Then the inside of his throat begins to burn. The centipede has clenched its jagged pincers around the inside of his throat. “Isn’t she so well trained, Baron?”

You lean down to the baron and hold his head in your hands so that you’re looking directly into his eyes, which are bloodshot and tearful. “You pitiful man, you thought you could kill me?” you whisper to him as he tries to call for help, but no comprehensible sound comes out. “Let me tell you a secret: I am more than the damsel in distress you think I am. I fought alongside Feyd that night. I even killed half of them. You shouldn’t have underestimated me or my people. We may be caretakers, but once those we love are threatened, we will not rest until we have our revenge. Now, you shall die a slow, painful, unceremonious death alone in a hot vat of black slime for your arrogance.”

You and Feyd release the baron from your grip. Allowing his body to sink against the edge of the tub. The baron sputters, as he begins to convulse. The venom is beginning to take hold. Soon it will affect his whole nervous system and shut down his body entirely. You and Feyd leave him there to rot as you deal with the bodies of the barbmen. In the early morning before anyone is awake, you collect the centipede from the baron in his tub. His body is twitching ever so slightly, but there is no hope for him. You hide the creature in your dress again, whispering small praises for a job well done and leave the room.

By midday, the Harkonnen attendants are growing concerned that they have not heard from the baron, a servant opens up the doors to the baron’s chambers, finding him lifeless in his tub with empty eyes staring up at the ceiling with a single tear stain on his cheek. The top doctors on Giedi Prime are brought in to perform an autopsy. They say he died of natural causes, unable to identify any trace of the centipede's presence.

The news spreads quickly about the baron’s passing, and you and Feyd put on a brave face for House Harkonnen. The funeral procession is quickly organized. The people of Giedi Prime hang their heads, mourning the sudden loss of their dear leader as you and Feyd precess through the city alongside the coffin to put the baron in his final resting place. Feyd makes a speech, praising his uncle for his leadership, secretly relishing his death.

You put up large flags with the baron’s face on it throughout the land, shrouding the architecture in even more dark fabrics, hang a portrait of him next to the other past Harkonnen leaders in the hallway, and order a monument to be built in his honor. Nobody suspects a thing.

A month after the death of Vladimir Harkonnen, you and Feyd stand in front of the citizens of Giedi Prime in your best clothes again as one of the Harkonnen advisors announce your new titles: Baron and Baroness Harkonnen. The crowd chants for the both of you with zeal, grateful to have leaders again.

The next morning, Feyd smiles as he opens his eyes and sees you sleeping peacefully, your head resting on his chest as you unconsciously run your fingers over his muscles. He hopes you’re dreaming of him because you were most certainly the subject of all of his fantasies last night. He tilts his head down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. He knows his next job is dealing with the Fremen attacks on Arrakis now that he is Baron Harkonnen. Instead of concerning himself with that, he chooses to close his eyes again and pulls you in closer. That job can wait. For now, all his thoughts are consumed by you as they should be.

Thanks for reading!

Part III OUT NOW!

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coryosbaby · 4 months

Text

Cry, Kill, Die

[ part two ]

Synopsis: In which Coriolanus Snow takes you for his own.

content warning . Dark themes— stalking, kidnapping, and Stockholm’s syndrome heavily mentioned // Extremely dubious consent, Murder and gore mentioned, misogynistic elements, past prostitution and a hint of bisexual! Coryo?// mentions of oral, non consensual masturbation, peacekeeper (ish?) ! Coryo, dom! Coryo, goes more into his pov this chapter <3

Coryo has a tendency to make women hate him.

He’s never known why. Although he sugars them up with sweet words and gifts, they never seem to meld to his image the way he wants them to, never obey. He wonders what he’s doing wrong.

And then, one day, he sees you.

It was a rainy night in district twelve when he took sight of you. You were almost childish in your ways, skipping merrily throughout the gravel streets, as if the whole world wasn’t against you. You had stuck your tongue out to catch the rain droplets into your mouth, and Coryo felt something so primal kick in his gut that it was almost blinding.

He began to follow you, after that.

It wasn’t that strange, at least not to others. He was a peacekeeper, they couldn’t say shit to him even if they wanted to. After the death of Sejanus the other peacekeepers strayed away from him, so he didn’t have to worry about them, either.

“A snitch,” they had spoken, quiet whispers that they thought he couldn’t hear. “Betrayed Sejanus. Yeah, him. The nice boy with the capital parents.”

Coryo had ignored them, when they talked about his other past lover. And if he was being honest he didn’t have enough of his mind occupied in that field to care. No, he was focused on something bigger— something, a plan perhaps, that would make you his.

You weren’t innocent. He knew that, took note of the many men you took home from bars for a few dollars. But there was something so precious about you, that set you apart from the others. You could be claimed if the right man stepped in and took the initiative.

And that’s when Coryo got the idea.

Lucy Gray was out in a heartbeat. There would be no remembrance of her, of her mockingjays, rainbow dresses, or silly songs. Lucy gray didn’t matter, anymore.

All he saw was you.

When he let Lucy gray lead him out into that cabin, it was out of sheer dumb luck. Everything was falling into place; he had found a place to keep you, a way to get rid of Lucy Gray, a place secluded and empty. This is where you would become his wife.

He decided it then, after he had shot and disposed of Lucy’s body.

It was the perfect place. It would be a home, a place for your own enjoyment and for your shared children. It would be nirvana.

A downside fell in front of Coryo, along the way. He would be going back home— his plan to make his way back up to the top had worked. But so what? He could find a way around his duties, a way to see you at least once every day. That’s why he chose the peacekeeper uniform. The time he arrived in district twelve every day would be the time most guards were off duty. He could wander as he pleased, and no one would recognize him because he glided smoothly in the crowd of men. Coriolanus Snow was supposed to be discharged, after all. There was no way, the other peacekeepers chided, that that one quiet guard could be him.

And when Coryo kidnapped you, he felt a sense of enjoyment.

The way you squirmed, your small form shoving up against him, made his cock harden in such a way that it never had before. When he threw you into that room, when he had locked you up, he felt relief. You would be safe. No one could hurt you there.

The cabin wasn’t finished. He knew that, but when he took you he caught you at the perfect time. He had locked all the doors in the house besides the bathroom and that one bedroom the day before, out of sheer intuition. Why would he let his girl see such a horrid mess? But it didn’t matter, he’d get you to like him and you’d both fix them up later.

The dress was made by Tigris. The creative blonde had no clue of Coriolanus’ terrible plans, assumed he had a date with a woman from one of his classes. She had no idea that she had stitched together the perfect welcome home gift.

When he had turned around for your frightened form to change into it, he had wanted so badly to rip it to shreds and split you in half on his cock. Imagining it— all that hard work, the beautiful pink fabric, ruined, while his cockhead parted your sweet folds— made his mind whirl with insidious thoughts. He had pushed them away, though, and when he saw you covered in the pretty pink ruffles he was satisfied.

He felt guilty, not having much time to spend with you due to his constant meetings with Dr. Gaul and the other game makers. But through obstacles, he must persevere. He made sure to see you at least once a night, to bring you food and water. He noticed before through your window that whenever it was your night to cook dinner for the family, you always chose tomato soup. So the boy immersed himself in the art of cooking, in the art of learning how to make your favorite meal. He brought it to you in the styrofoam cups the capital cafeteria provided. Tigris had aided him in perfecting the dish, had told him, “wow. You really like this girl, don’t you, Coryo?”

She had no idea.

The night he comes home with the gown, he’s got a pit in his stomach. Even though it was his first off day in weeks, he had lost his temper earlier today, the damned thing that always seemed to get him into trouble. He had sunk his teeth deep. In the literal and emotional sense.

He’s angry with himself. How could he lose control like that? In his home? With you?

So he does what he does best: he provides. He provides you a brand new, comfortable nightgown, silky and blue; He knows pink is your favorite color but so help him, he wants the best possible fabric for his girl. And if that means sacrificing one small thing for your comfort, then so be it.

When he had went to fetch dinner and the gift, he hadn’t left the cabin. No, there was no trip to a cheap, rundown district restaurant or a long train ride to a capital dress shop. Coryo sat, watched through a window, and waited.

He used this as a way to not only admire you, but to find out what you do when he’s gone. To see if you’ll panic. To see if you’ll leave.

You don’t move an inch, and with that Coryo is glad. You don’t want to leave him. You’re happy.

He comes in, equipped with the bag and the cup of tomato soup he had stashed on the side of the cabin when he got there earlier that day. It’s probably cold, but he knows the nightgown will make up for that for sure.

When he comes in, he sees the way your eyes light up with fascination. The way you smile at him, so sweet and pretty, makes him blush.

He plays peek a boo through his fingers when you change. He kisses you, and you kiss him back, and then he lets you get down on your knees and suck his cock. He knows it’s wrong, he should wait, but he’s gotten so excited and you’re so gorgeous…although, your nose is caked with a bit of dirt. You may need a shower. He doesn’t know why you haven’t taken one— he had stocked up on your favorite shampoo, conditioner, and body washes. He had took it upon himself, took the risk of his image, to sneak inside your bathroom and make a list of what you liked. Perhaps you have depression? Perhaps he didn’t gift you the correct shampoo?

No, perhaps you need him to help you. Silly girl, always needing his assistance! He pulls away from you, once you’ve taken all his cum down your pretty throat. He strokes your hair, and pecks you gently on the cheek.

“A shower?” He suggests.

—

When you hear those words from him, you want to cry in relief and also in fear. Your hair is matted, your body sweaty and gross. The cum you just swallowed isn’t sitting well in your tummy. You nod to Coryo, and let him guide you to the shower. You might as well let him see you naked— at this point, you’ll have to let him. He’ll make you reveal your body one way or another. Either way, you’re used to this, letting men see and use your body for something in return. It’s almost the same as your daily occupations.

Almost.

You prepare for the worst. For him to get hard for a second time, part your legs, and slip himself inside you. But surprisingly, he doesn’t. He just admires you from afar, taking in the sight of your bare breasts and cunt resting in between your legs. He asks if you want him to touch you. You say no, that you want to wait.

“At the right time,” you say. “When we’ve.. gotten to know each other.”

When you mention that to Coryo, he understands perfectly. Of course you want to wait— what you two have is special.

He massages your scalp with shampoo and conditioner, scrubs you down with a rag and your favorite soap, rinses it off, and pours unscented wash onto it. He looks at you, almost as if asking for permission (how ironic). But you don’t care what he does anymore. You just want to sleep.

He uses his fingers to gently part your legs. He runs the cloth over your cunt, your thighs. He parts one side of your ass with his big hand, and scrubs you there, too. He uses the shower head to wash you off, and you try to ignore the throb in your clit when the water spurts against it. You hate being attracted to Coryo, at least physically, because he’s using a separate rag to clean himself and it makes heat flood your face. When he’s done, when you’re both ridden of filth, he wraps you up in a fluffy green towel. He slips the nightgown over your head and puts his shirt and pants back on— he’ll need to bring a set of pajamas, next time, he thinks.

He sits you down on the bed, and he presses a kiss to your head. You’re tired, scared, and feel something else you can’t quite place. Coryo turns the lamp down, and he urges you to get into bed.

You’re surprised when he slides in next to you. You tense, as he wraps his arm around your middle. So different from earlier that day, and as he whispers sweetly to you, “goodnight, bunny”, you wonder how in the hell your life has turned into this.

—

When Coriolanus puts you to bed, he doesn’t sleep.

He doesn’t do much of that anymore, anyway. He’s got too much on his mind, too many plans. He’s thinking about what color to make his child’s nursery, about the train ride he’s going to have to endure tomorrow morning. He had lied to his family earlier that day, at least a little bit. “Staying at my my girl’s tonight,” he had said dreamily to Tigris. “Wanna give her something special”. She had taken the bait.

For a split second he thought of quitting the capital— he’d have more time for you, after all. But he wants the absolute best for his girl, and he can’t give you that on a peacekeeper’s lousy salary.

He watches you sleep. Your lashes flutter as you doze, and he hears a whine spill from your plump lips. Your body turns, the nightgown riding up to expose the fat of your thighs. Coryo can’t bring himself to look away.

His cock twitches in his pants, beginning to swell to full hardness. How wrong it is, as he slips his hand down into his pants. But he can’t bring himself to care. It’s as if you’re asking for him to get aroused from you— why are your legs parting, as you let out soft, whiny breaths? Why is your bare cunt, plump and sweet, exposing itself so openly to the room? You’re like an enchantress, a goddess of seduction. You want him to do this.

Coriolanus unzips his fly, pull out his cock that’s practically aching. He spits, brings his palm down. He masturbates like that, staring at your bare cunt, thinking about your mouth on him earlier that day. How perfect you were, your soft pink tongue lolling out to lick his juices, the way you looked up at him with glazed eyes.

He spills into his fist, and wishes he had spilled all over your face. But he isn’t going to disrespect his girl like that.

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #Coriolanus snow fanfic #dark! Coriolanus snow #perv! Coriolanus snow #dom! Coriolanus snow #Tom blyth #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic

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nanamiluvs · 2 months

Text

jealousy !

pairing : nanami kento x reader

rating : mature

wc : 800

warnings : jealousy, reader is afab but no gender mentioned, reader trying to make nanami jealous, gojo is reader's accomplice, the mature content is very brief, overstimulation, fingerfucking, kind of dirty talk, nanami is a sweetheart nonetheless ♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

nanami who doesn't get jealous when you blatantly flirt with a certain white haired friend acquaintance of his. nanami who totally doesn't get his revenge.

nanami who doesn't get jealous.

nanami who finds it cute when you try to make him so, a smile on his lips as he watches you. why would he feel jealous? the man is in love with you and he knows you feel the same way. the trust he has in you has no limit.

nanami who knows it's one of your attempts at making him jealous when you giggle at another one of gojo's jokes. nanami thinks they're miserable, he has heard better punchlines from 5 year olds.

nanami who doesn't mind you at all, flirting with his friend right under his nose. he thinks it's adorable, the way you think you can fool him.

nanami who, despite that, shifts in his seat when gojo leans in closer to you with a smirk on his face. he's not...jealous, he simply thinks that gojo doesn't need to look at you like that.

nanami who spends the rest of the evening in silence, jaw clenching as your chatter with gojo fills the table. gojo's telling you about, uhh, one of his made-up stories? nanami's not really sure. he only knows that you've been grinning all night. he doesn't have a problem with that, seeing your smile brightens his day. just not when the source of that curvature of your lips is the man named gojo satoru.

nanami who knows this was probably a plan you made beforehand which gojo was happy to oblige in, yet the way he casually acted his part made nanami frown with displeasure.

nanami who excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you two alone. you sigh, lost and defeated. "i think he just...doesn't get jealous, man. i just spent a whole night in vain." to which gojo smirks in response, taking his sunglasses off and getting closer to whisper in your ear, "trust me, if i know nanamin, he's gonna murder me."

nanami who witnesses the sight of you giggling with gojo's face oh-so-close to yours from afar.

nanami who clenches his jaw, yet sits back down.

nanami who thinks it's time to leave as he sets his share of the bill down on the table, getting up from his chair. he places a hand on your shoulder for a moment, the touch fleeting as he pulls his hand back. his brown eyes are staring down at you, his gaze piercing. you smile at nanami and get up, winking at gojo who just smiles back, having done his work.

nanami who spills no words as he drives the car. he's going at his usual speed despite the childish anger brewing in him, eyes fixated on the road ahead. you smile sheepishly, you also knew that nanami was aware it was all an act.

nanami who pushes you against the closed door as soon as you get in the house, his lips smashing against yours with fervor and frustration. "was it fun, my love?" he says, his hand coming up to grab the back of your hand to guide you into his kisses. his eyes bore into yours, demanding a response.

nanami who takes your clothes off, the pieces of fabric long forgotten on the floor. "or do you really want that sad excuse of a man to touch you like this?" he asks as he pulls you into his lap, your back flush with his chest. his teeth bite into the exposed skin on the area between your neck and shoulder, sucking.

nanami who kisses you when you part your lips to answer, his other hand holding your jaw possessively. he pulls you in closer by the small of your waist, leading your bodies into the bedroom. "was it fun, begging for my attention?"

nanami who bullies his thick fingers into your cunt, ruthless with the pace he set. "why aren't you talking, darling?" he whispers as his fingers draw out yet another orgasm from your shaking body. "here i was, thinking you were being quite chatty today. are you worn out already?"

nanami who makes you whine from overstimulation before even sliding inside you. his words mock you and your desperate attempt of an evening, telling you how cute you were for such an idea.

nanami who can't deny you were successful.

nanami who manhandles you onto your back on the bed, lips on yours as he positions himself with your entrance. his dick twitches with anticipation, a need to pound into you. "cat got your tongue?" he says, your state of daze endearing in his eyes. "not that confident now?"

nanami who pushes himself into your wet cunt with a quiet grunt escaping his lips. he presses his featherlight kisses on your neck, feeling your pulse beneath his lips.

nanami who forgets how he was supposed to take his anger out on you, his adoration weighing heavier.

nanami who wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he whispers into your ear, his tone so in love. "why should i feel jealous, my love?" he kisses your temple, "you know i am as yours as you are mine."

nanami who gets a little bit jealous sometimes.

reqs are open!

#nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x you

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toxicanonymity · 3 months

Text

Prescott House Bed & Breakfast

IMGs: the Prescott house, gif of older Billy Loomis looking in the mirror with a bloody shirt, and sidney's open window at night

1.8k words, 40+ y/o!Billy Loomis x f!reader SUMMARY: You stay the night in Sidney Prescott's old room and leave the window open. WARNINGS: I8+ Billy is a ghost/hallucination that seems completely real. He's buff, has scruff, and has (somehow) aged like fine wine. P in V, creampie, light manhandling/restraint, hybristophilia (craving that criminal cock), mild degradation/teasing, pet names, somnophilia adjacent, blood.

For more than 25 years, the old Prescott house was empty and slowly rotting. With ghostface still on the prowl, the last thing the City of Woodsboro wanted was to sensationalize the original murders with a tourist attraction that could inspire copycats. The house changed owners a few times, but the city would never grant permits for renovation work, until a charming older couple from out of town bought it with plans to open a bed & breakfast.

You got a solo reservation for early October. The temperature was mild when you showed up just before dusk. If not for the pumpkins on nearly every doorstep, you might have thought it was September. A light breeze made the leaves dance across the yard as you walked up the path alone. A grandmotherly woman answered the door, and her husband was right behind her to take your bag. She offered you tea and snacks, and you chatted for a bit, then she showed you to your room. She never mentioned the Prescotts.

When she gestured to Sidney’s bedroom door, your heart skipped a beat. You had hoped, but didn’t want to ask for it over the phone. You entered the room, and she turned on the light.

Your hostess must have seen it in your face.

“Oh, is this okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, it’s perfect.”

As soon as you were alone, you turned off the lights, shut the door, took off your shoes, and laid down on the bed, on top of the covers. You thought about how Sidney lived there. Billy visited there. It was exhilarating just being between those walls.

When you went to shower, your heart raced as you checked behind the curtain. As usual, there was nothing. Nothing but energy. You brushed off your nerves as excitement, but there was a physical element you didn’t expect. The air felt heavy. Not stale, but thick, as if you were pushing through an invisible field as you moved.

In the shower, that feeling was overtaken by a buzz in your body. It felt you were vibrating with life. You used a shower cap, and the soap smelled like honey-almond. You thought about Billy, and warmth rushed to your loins. You’d thought about him so many times. You imagined him retreating to this very bathroom with blue balls and frantically jerking off. You imagined him looking in the mirror as he did it. You pictured the dark look on his face with all his terrible thoughts and urges simmering in the back of his mind as he stroked his cock. You thought about him coming into the toilet bowl, which made your chest erupt in goosebumps. You turned off the water and squeezed your thighs together as you let the water roll off you.

After taking off the shower cap and air drying for a minute, you toweled off, applied lotion, and put on a robe to go back to your room.

In your bedroom, you turned on a bedside lamp. You put on your white floral nightgown and frilly white socks. You slowly went around the room looking at everything. You weren’t sure anything was original, but the pastel floral bedspread had a nineties vibe. You looked in a mirror on the wall and felt like you were looking at someone else. Your fingers came to your face, and your cheek was hot to the touch. Your arms were, too, and your chest. The air was thick again, and it felt like you were moving in slow motion. You went to the window and pulled back the lace, cream curtains to have a look outside. It was hard to see with the glare, so you slid the bottom window pane up, then locked it in place. The breeze that swept in felt like heaven. There wasn’t much to see. You closed the curtains but left the window open.

You turned off the lamp as you got in bed. As you laid there in the slight moonlight, your body was throbbing with energy, but you were sleepy from your travels. The faint chirping of crickets lulled you to sleep without much difficulty.

A chill fell over the room in the middle of the night, stirring you half-awake. You felt exposed, but couldn’t reach the covers to pull them back up. Then you felt a weight descend on your hips. You opened your eyes to the looming silhouette of a man straddling you. Your heart jumped and you drew in a mouthful of air to scream, only for a large, cool hand to clamp down over your mouth. The man lowered his torso over yours and brought his mouth to your ear to warn, “Be quiet for me, babe.”

You struggled and whined into his palm. He brought his other forearm to your chest to hold you down roughly. “ Quiet ,” he demanded through gritted teeth. You nodded in compliance.

As your eyes adjusted, more details came into focus. His hair was messy and he had scruff. His shoulders were built. His biceps swelled out from his short sleeves. There was some dark, abstract design all over the front of his white t-shirt, which stretched over his strong pecs and the hint of a soft belly. He was in boxers. He was probably in his 40s.

He kneed your bare legs apart and you felt the cool air on your bare cunt as your eyes filled with tears. He smiled with one side of his mouth and it hit you like a freight train – Billy Loomis. He was too old, too built to be Billy, but his smile, and the glint in his eyes left no doubt in your mind. Your eyes widened, and your face softened. He braced his hands on either side of you and laid his hips into yours. What you felt against your front was warm, hard, and massive. You moaned into his hand, and a look of satisfaction spread across his face.

“Gonna be quiet for me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

You were already dripping wet. You nodded.

“Good.” He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth.

“Billy?” you whispered. Then he whispered your name back with a slow thrust against you that made you close your eyes and bite your lip in pleasure.

His pelvis lifted away, and through the cotton of his boxers, you could feel his heavy balls graze your leg as he moved to straddle a thigh. He was making room to wedge a hand between your legs. “ Mmm ,” he growled at first contact. He slowly rubbed you with three flattened fingers, just enough to gather your arousal and bring it to his lips. Your face heated up at the sight of blood on his fingers. He sucked his index finger and inhaled sharply through his nose. Then he sucked his other fingers clean and got back between your legs. He casually pulled his boxers down below his balls and ass, and his stiff cock bobbed heavily, hypnotizing you before he held his shaft in his hand with his thumb at the tip.

“You're one of those sickos ,” he taunted. “ into psychos like me .” He shook his head in mock disapproval. You didn't bother denying it. “That's okay, baby .”

He scrunched up your nightgown, hiked up your thigh, then lined himself up at your wet little hole. As soon as the tip hit your wetness, your walls were clenching, begging for it.

Holding your thigh and bracing a hand by your hip, he plunged his length into you, and his lips drew together with effort as his girth divided your insides. With a punch of his hips, he bottomed out and audibly released his breath. The stretch burned, but quickly faded. He paused and stared down at you, his chest and stomach expanding in rhythm with heavy breaths.

He released your thigh and you wrapped your legs around him. He withdrew a few inches, then shoved in again. He lowered himself so his tummy touched your middle as he began to pound you. He grunted and sighed quietly and and an orgasm brewed in your lower belly.

After a minute, he lowered more of his weight onto you, planting his forearms on your pillow on either side of your head. A salty drop of sweat fell in your mouth. His shirt was wet, and it seeped through to your gown. Your nipples sharpened under the damp fabric. He was giving it to you hard, and picking up the pace. The bed shook as he buried his length in you. He was bigger than you imagined. His whole body - bigger than any pictures you'd ever seen. Solid and strong. He felt realer than anyone you’d ever been with or even kissed.

Without easing up the power of his thrusts, he slowed down a bit and widened the stance of his arms to lower his forehead to the pillow. His scruff brushed your cheek. He stroked your other cheek with his thumb. After a few seconds, you moaned and he raised his head to meet your eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed, “I know what you want, baby.”

His cum, you wanted his cum.

You moaned as he hit the right spot and your lower torso tensed with the pressure of your building climax. He covered your mouth again, and his palm was warmer by then. You lowered your left left foot and watched his pale ass flex above the waistband of his boxers as he fucked you.

“Yeah,” he breathed, and that sent you over the edge. The pressure burst, and pleasure flooded your system with each wave of your peak. You whimpered into his hand.

“Fuck ,” he panted, fucking you through it as you clenched around him. He plunged to the hilt and erupted with a sigh. His moan was quiet but deep and drawn out, painting your insides with warm bursts. He backed up, then bottomed out again. And as you finished milking his cock, he brought his lips to yours. His lips felt full and soft. The kiss was smooth but aggressive, his tongue breaching your lips right away. He moaned into your mouth, releasing the last of his load. When he was empty, he broke the kiss with a sigh, then pulled out.

You tingled head to toe as your body brought itself back together again. He gently gripped your jaw and read your eyes. “Later, babe ” He gave you another kiss, closed mouth, before sitting back and pulling on his boxers. You laid in stunned silence as he exited through the window. You dipped a finger between your legs to check for your period, but you didn't find anything but cum.

You put on a robe and used your phone's flashlight to get to the bathroom, your body still buzzing everywhere. You looked in the mirror and almost dropped your phone when you saw your nightgown was smeared with dark blood.

---------

Thank you for reading! I have certain fantasies, and this one really wanted my attention. I used to have sleep paralysis as a kid. As an adult, I've had an experience kinda like this fic, but the "ghost" / hallucination was slightly translucent, despite feeling extremely real, in a very good way. It was a white guy with dark hair, dressed like he was from the 1920s-30s, including suspenders. Thin for my taste, but kinda hot. No mortal injuries.

#billy loomis #billy loomis smut #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #female reader #cw somnophilia #toxicanonymity ☠️#dilf!billy loomis #hallucination!billy loomis #FIWB #ghostfacesmut #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #ghostface ☠️

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d10nyx · 3 months

Text

can't fight this feeling pt.2

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, dub-con, stepcest, mentions of past non-con and somno, obsessive behaviour, idek what the tag for this is so um - outercourse?? brief mention of murder n non-con recording

a/n: hiii! originally i hadn't planned a part two of this, but here we are! not sure if i like it as much as part one but we move... hope you all like it :))

word count: 1.7k words

Leon couldn't stop thinking about you. You'd crawled your way into his brain and settled down. His entire body itches when you are near, plagued with the knowledge he'd be unable to touch you how he wanted. How he needed.

He loved how pliant you were when he slipped a sleeping pill into your nightly tea, but it wasn't enough. He needed to know how pretty you'd sound moaning his name. He needed you to be awake. He'd had practice now, sneaking into your room at night. He needed to show you how good it would be, make you crave him as much as he craved you.

The perfect opportunity comes up a few weeks later. Your parents tell the both of you they're going away for a couple of days on a couples trip, leaving Leon in charge of the house. He gives them the sweetest smile as they get ready to leave, an arm casually draped over your shoulder as he promises to take care of his baby sister.

“Leon!” You start as soon as they're gone, smiling up at him excitedly. “We've got the place to ourselves! What d'you wanna do?”

Oh, he can think of a few things, alright. But he's gotta ease into it. It wouldn't do him any good if he scared you off, so he shrugs, playing it casual.

“I dunno.” He replies, using the arm that's still wrapped around your shoulder to guide you into the living room. “Play some games or something? Have a movie day? Up to you, sis.”

“God, you're so boring.” You whine, playfully pushing at his chest with a giggle. He grins at that, squishing you close with his arm and ruffling your hair, ignoring your protests.

“You sure you wanna start a fight with me? You know I'll kick your ass, right?” He says with a playful grin, sliding an arm down to your waist, his hand gripping you there.

“No you wouldn't. You're a big baby.” You say with a laugh, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out. He cocks an eyebrow at your display, and before you can react, he's pinning you to the couch and tickling you.

“Lee!” You exclaim, laughing and trying to kick him off of you. Your arms push at his shoulders, but he's using all of his body weight to pin you down. You wriggle and squirm as much as you can, but nothing seems to get you loose.

“Come on, I give up, alright?” You manage to force out between giggles, using all of your strength to tug at his fingers and try and get his hands off of you.

“Nah, too late for that.” He says with a grin, pressing himself against you as he continues to tickle you. His hips meet your stomach, and he seems to realize that's a mistake as soon as it happens.

His cock is rock hard, and he can see the exact moment you feel it. The way your eyes widen and you freeze up. His own movements halt, his breath hitching as he finds himself unable to move away from you.

“Okay, seriously. Get off now, Lee. That's so weird.” You say with a frown, pushing at his chest. When he doesn't budge, your brows furrow, and you try and squirm away.

His grip on your waist tightens, and you find yourself panicking slightly. “Leon! What the fuck? Let me go.”

“M'sorry. You're just so pretty. Can't help it.” He all but whines, grabbing your arms and pining the above your head with one hand, the other pinning your hip to the couch. “You got me so hard, princess. Just let me deal with it, yeah? Promise I won't hurt you.”

“Leon, this isn't fucking funny-” You start, your words being cut off by his lips meeting yours. Your eyes widen, and you jerk your head to the side to separate them.

He whimpers, pinning your thighs down with his own instead so he can use your free hand to grip your jaw and keep your head still. It hurts a little, but he tries his best not to grip you too hard.

He kisses you desperately, digging his fingers into your cheeks slightly to pry your teeth apart so he can stick his tongue into your mouth. He's never been able to kiss you like this before, always too scared of waking you. You're so soft and warm everywhere, it drives him insane.

He begins to rock his hips against you, shifting so he's rubbing over your clothed pussy. You moan quietly into his mouth as he brushes your clit, already feeling your panties dampen.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, the thoughts about how fucking weird this all is on the forefront of your mind. You let yourself be kissed by Leon, no longer trying to fight it. You find yourself kissing back before you even realize, tongue sliding against his as your eyes flutter shut.

When he pulls back, you feel a heat rising to your cheeks, and your breath comes out a little heavier than usual. He's still grinding against you, and you're doing your best not to show how much you like it.

“Leon, come on. That's enough. Mom and dad will kill us if they find out. This is so fucking weird.” You protest weakly, brows still pinched together as you look up at him.

“You're the reason that I'm so hard. The least you could do is help.” He grunts, dropping his head to suck bruises into the skin of your neck. You don't stop him when he reaches for your pants to tug them off, or when he starts fiddling with the bow at the top of your panties.

“Cute.” He says with a grin, sitting back on his heels between your legs to look at you. He dips the tips of his index fingers in the waistband, slowly pulling them down.

“Leon… we can't.”

“Hmm? Why is that? It's not like you're actually my sister. And look. She likes it.” He says with that cheeky smile you've grown so accustomed to. You never thought you'd see it in this scenario.

“I'm a virgin.” You say quietly, eyes darting to the side like you're embarrassed to admit it to him.

No, you're not. He thinks to himself, trying his best not to give anything away with his expression. He almost feels bad lying to you like this, but it makes it so much sweeter knowing he's the only one that's touched you like this.

Figured out you were taking the pill when he snooped in your room one day and assumed you must have been sleeping with someone else. He's happy to know he was wrong about that.

“S'okay, sis. I'll take it slow. Won't even put it in, pinky swear.”

You pause, swallowing hard as you look up at him. You had no reason not to trust Leon, right? He'd been nothing but nice to you… it's not like anyone had to find out.

“You promise?”

“Yeah. Promise. I'll make it feel good for both of us.” He replies easily, leaning forward to kiss you again. He could be patient. It would feel so satisfying when you finally let him fuck you willingly. He doesn't mind taking it slow.

He frees his erection from his boxers as he kisses you, adjusting your panties so he can slip in them. He pushes himself between your folds, sliding back and forth. His tip brushes your clit every time he pushes forward, his thumbs holding his dick firmly against you.

You gasp softly at the feeling, hips bucking towards him as your hands grip his shoulders. He moans into your mouth as your nails dig into his muscles through his shirt, rutting against you faster.

Your moans are ever prettier than he imagined. His kisses turn even hungrier, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth.

You're even better when you're awake. He can't believe it took him this long to gather the courage to make a move on you. You're so wet, dribbling all over his cock and making the slide even easier.

He's not gonna last long like this, so he focuses on grinding the head of his dick against your clit, trying to get you to cum. Maybe if he makes you feel good enough, you'd let him fuck you before your parents got back.

“Leon… Leon, fuck.” You whimper, breaking this kiss and burying your face in his neck. It doesn't take long for you to be pushed over the edge, coating his cock ever more.

Just hearing you moan his name is enough for him to coat your pussy in cum, making a mess of your cute panties until the fabric is transparent.

He collapses on top of you, pressing his weight against you. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a sigh. He feels his heart start to race when you try and press closer to him.

He's finally got you where he wants you. He knows you so well, knows he can make it so you'll be ruined for anyone else. He wants you with him forever. He'd kill anyone who tried to come between the two of you, and he's not above using his badge to scare off any men who so much as look in your direction.

As much as it pains him, he knows he's gonna have to wipe the videos he's taken of you off his phone. He can't risk you coming across them one day and ruin what you have going. He'd get some more, convince you to record a proper home video with him.

“Told you I'd always look after you.” He mumbles into your skin, rolling off you only to tuck you into his side, running a hand through your hair.

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with affection that only serves to drive him insane.

Yeah, you'd be his. He'd make sure of it.

Whatever it takes.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #resident evil smut #tw stepcest #dark content

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aft3rhrs · 4 months

Text

— companionship ღ

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: yandere, jimin says hi <3, allusions to kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, threats of murder (not towards the reader), corruption, a tiny bit of voyeurism (?), jealousy, possessiveness, hinted bdsm, rough sex, spanking, choking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie

How could someone be so cruel?

Frowning, Jimin picked up the crumpled sheet of paper and tried to smoothe it out with his thumbs. He should hang it back up. The weather was dreary, and he really doubted the tape stuck to it would hold with how the wind whistled, tugging at his hair.

The vibration in his pocket distracted him from his thoughts. He reached for his phone, barely glancing at the screen before answering the call.

"Hey," Jungkook greeted, "busy?"

"No, why?"

"Well, I need to get some stuff for Bam and his friend, but my car's still not fixed... Can you give me a ride? I won't be able to carry this shit home."

Jimin snorted.

"What the fuck are all these muscles for, then?"

"For girls to look at, hyung. What else?"

Rolling his eyes, he folded the damaged sheet and slipped it into his coat, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

"You're so full of shit. Are you planning on buying the entire store?"

Either way, he was already fiddling with his keys. Jungkook chuckled on the line, because he knew.

"See you there."

Jimin sighed, hanging up to spare his already rigid fingers from freezing any further.

Jungkook hardly ever had to worry about finances, despite being a full time student. He already had Bam to take care of — and he loved to spoil him with the best food, toys and treats that stores had to offer. Lately, he's been talking about getting a new pet.

He stated that Bam could use a friend while he was stuck in college all day; and while Jimin could see his point, he didn't understand how Jungkook could possibly find the time to do his work, keep his social life in check and take care of two dogs. He's already been going out less, too busy with homework and too tired for their usual clubbing sessions.

It didn't really matter though, Jimin supposed. Jungkook wasn't anything if responsible, and maybe he didn't mind the quiet nights in.

As long as he was happy.

Silence.

It's been three days, and Jungkook wasn't picking up his phone. They were supposed to meet for drinks tonight, unwind. Jimin waited for an hour before he downed another whiskey and left the pub.

They didn't talk every day, but getting completely ignored and stood up? That wasn't Jungkook's style.

Rather than frustration, it was concern that had Jimin driving up to his house. He has been getting so withdrawn lately. He did mention his assignments were taking a toll on him. Checking if he was okay was probably a good reason to use his emergency key, right?

That was what Jimin decided on anyway when he knocked and there was no answer.

He stepped in through the door uncertainly, scanning the living room. Nothing out of the ordinary. The light was on, too.

"Jungkook?"

Again, no answer.

Was he asleep?

Heaving a sigh, Jimin locked the door and started making his way up the stairs. When he reached the top, however, he paused promptly, a hushed voice reaching his ears.

Jungkook's voice, to be precise.

What the hell was he doing?

Annoyed, Jimin stalked towards his bedroom, the door before him opened no more than a few inches.

His hand almost grabbed the knob; his heart almost stopped.

The rest of his body followed, freezing. Cold spread throughout his ribs, his stomach, the frost webbing his bones.

He suddenly felt the weight of the folded sheet he found, abandoned and forgotten in the pocket of his coat; until this moment. Unconsciously, his fingers twitched, touching it.

There was Jungkook, crouched down on the floor, a leash in his hand, his nose almost brushing the one of his new pet.

His new pet... that looked exactly like the girl on the missing poster Jimin picked up on the street.

He eyed the opened cage he helped Jungkook bring in, the diamond collar around your neck.

He felt sick to his stomach, felt his palms start getting sweaty. The initial shock was slowly fading and alarms were going off inside his head. What the fuck.

"— you even understand when I'm talking to you?" Jungkook whispered, his jaw set as he tugged on your leash.

On all fours, like a tamed kitten, Jimin saw your body jerk forward and your lower lip quiver.

"What did I say about talking to Yoongi when he comes down? What did I say?" Jungkook snapped.

Yoongi? The dealer?

Jimin watched the scene in front of him unfold in horror. Jungkook was... some kind of disturbed creep. Did he ever really know him at all?

Finally it made sense why he stopped going out, why he was no longer interested in hook ups. Was he the one who ripped your poster off the pole...?

Jimin shivered. He had to help you. He had to make sure he remained unnoticed and get you out of there as soon as possible.

"It's not my fault he flirts with me," you suddenly whispered, meek.

He didn't miss the way Jungkook's thumb caressed your face, settling on your jaw.

"Do you want me to break his neck?" He breathed. "Do you want to spend another night in that fucking cage? Do you?"

Jimin took a careful step backwards. He needed some air. Needed to leave and throw up. Maybe calling the cops was a better idea than handling this alone.

"I'm sorry," you whined, nuzzling your captor's neck. "Please don't be mad at me, daddy. Please touch me."

Poor thing; you had to resort to complying with his depraved demands just to—

Wait a minute.

Jimin froze again, feeling his stomach twist and turn.

Did he hear you right?

He definitely heard Jungkook's breath hitch, and at that point he was moving intuitively, slowly backing out into the darkness of the corridor and losing sight of you. He couldn't bear to look anymore. There was something in your eyes that unsettled his soul.

"You want me to touch you?" He heard Jungkook ask, raspy. "Want me to fuck you?"

A moan.

Jimin took a deep breath and tried to keep his composure, cheeks hot and hands unsteady as he reached for the banister of the staircase.

Poor little thing, in love with the maniac who snatched her up one day and changed her life forever. He pretended he didn't hear the unbuckling of a belt, pretended the chills running down his back weren't making him dizzy.

Maybe your demeanor should have been a sign that you needed help more than he imagined. Somehow, though, he doubted you'd accept it. It looked like he discovered Jungkook's little secret too late; you couldn't be torn out from his claws now. Once the separation anxiety kicked in, you'd wither away.

No pet wanted to live without their owner.

The collar was tight; it closed around your throat like a fist, tighter the harder Jungkook pulled. He took in the curve of your back, greedy eyes tracing down to where you were connected.

His cock throbbed as he watched it split you open, glistening with your slick. An inked hand dug into the supple flesh of your ass. You were so perfect, your whines music to his ears; somehow that only made his anger flare up.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, a slap, then another resounding through the room, leaving your skin hot.

He loosened his hold on the leash, then abandoned it altogether, gripping your hips to fuck you harder.

You fell forward, oxygen rushing back in and pussy tightening. His pretty little mess, sweat beading your body like morning dew glimmering on a flower.

"You wanna let another man flirt with you? You wanna be a little bitch?" He groaned. "Then shut the fuck up and take it like a bitch. Agh."

He threw his head back, blocking out the image of your ass bouncing as he slammed against it, the way your little hole swallowed his fat cock. It was too much to handle. The filthy sounds and the feeling of your cunt alone were enough to make his stomach burn, and he couldn't think straight anymore.

He just wanted to fill you up.

Again and again, while you drooled and panted, begging for more. Insatiable, just like him.

"Fuck," he gasped, "good slut."

You were close. His knees always weakened as you keened and tightened at the degrading praise, and he swallowed, no better than an animal himself as his cock rammed into you.

"Mine," he whimpered, his voice almost breaking. "Mmhm, gonna come—gonna keep you full—agh—here you go, baby—"

A heated shudder went through him, unraveling deep in his abdomen. Jungkook was never the one to break a promise, pumping his cum as deep inside as it would go while he moaned, letting your orgasm soak his cock completely.

"Fucck..."

Mine mine mine mine.

The only thing he knew, pulsing as the last drops of his seed shot out, leaving him blissfully empty. Of everything, except thoughts of you.

He caressed your sides, leaning down to press kisses to your spine. The hot trail ended right below your ear.

"If you ever talk to him again," Jungkook murmured sweetly, "you'll be sleeping in that cage next to his corpse. Understood?"

The little shiver of fear that ran through you was delightful. Jungkook kissed your neck, smiling when you nodded your head.

"Mm, yes daddy," you sighed out.

"Good girl."

You still needed some training, it seemed. But Jungkook had more than enough time and patience, and most importantly, he loved to remind you who you belonged to. It didn't take long for you to get it.

Jungkook would always take care of you. He would kill and die for you. There was no breaking that bond, not now, not ever.

This kind of companionship was meant for life.

taglist 💌: @baalsgurl1913 @httpsbts @hoseokshobagi @pynkgothicka @ar14dna @sweetempathprunetree @blueberryarchive @messyjk @themochiverse @minyoongiboongi @chimmisbae @crisle19 @bangtans-momma @bnagtanx1306 @get-that-brain-working @babycandy111

#yandere bts #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reactions #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook smut

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gyusimp · 1 month

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°•Lord Muzan feels tired after work

Finally the one-shot I promised! I changed the initial idea so I basically rewrote the whole thing again because of a dream I had and it gave me all the inspiration I needed lmao it even gave me an idea for another longer fic with Muzan. I ended up doing it in the canon Taisho Era so enjoy!

Art credits for the creator (not mine)

It wasn't physical fatigue that he felt, after all, the progenitor of demons was tireless. He was rather fed up. Fed up with his employees, his servants, humans in general and how exhausting it was to be the only perfect and intelligent creature among them. His day had been full of problems today.

The current role he had was that of a young and rich businessman, owner of a company importing foreign products whom he murdered in order to carry out his plans and continue increasing his fortune. He forged a few papers, impersonated some people and murdered others and so the company was his now but that included all his stupid and useless employees. He was so fed up with damn humans, sometimes he avoided dismissals, it depends on their mood and how efficient they were at some point then Muzan fired them, otherwise he just called them to his office simply to kill them.

Then a few months later he met you, a young and beautiful woman in the business world with a company dedicated to natural medicine and importing medicinal plants. You were an essential piece in his plan to conquer the sun. He married you when he had the chance to but you eventually found out that he wasn't human. How come you were still alive then? You discovered it on your own, you didn't make a fuss or try to run away from him, you simply let him know that you already knew through small clues or ways of acting, like you were in charge of closing all the curtains in the house during the day but you didn't ask the servants to do it for you. Your loyalty to him remained despite knowing what he was and that was not lost on Muzan.

One night, he told you what this was all about, if you hadn't left despite knowing his condition then you had to stay alive. Muzan gave you the choice if you wanted to become a demon or not but whatever your answer was, you had to serve him for your entire life. The fact of being immortal did not tempt your human weakness but you told him that by having the ability to walk under the sun, you could be his eyes in the light of day and help him do different things so you both ended up accepting. You were legally his wife, so in front of everyone Muzan treated you as such although there were times in private where he was still a little soft on you, plus, he is an attractive looking man which led you to feel some things more for him , taking on mind his demonic nature.

Today had been a terribly long day, the fatigue in Kibutsuji's body caused the veins on his forehead to stand out strongly under his skin, his red eyes appeared and his pupils turned into vertical slits like a cat's. He took off the black trench coat he was wearing and left it on the coat rack at the entrance, his fangs grew to normal size after having hidden them all day, as did his sharp blue nails, making one of his servants tremble who should have already gone home. The man next to him was observed with indifference, his skin was pale and he was sweating coldly having seen the small transformation of his master, then he remembered the stories of those man-eating creatures that the women of his town told the children.

"A monster! This man is not human!! MISS KIBUTSUJI, THERE IS A DEMON IN THE HOUSE!" the man shouted trying to alert you.

His shrill screams tried Muzan's patience and when the man turned to walk up the stairs towards you he was cut into pieces in less than 2 seconds. The reddish and thick liquid splashed Kibutsuji's face making him sigh and wipe it with a handkerchief as well as his hand, the drops dripped on the stairs and when he walked next to him he moved it with too much disgust using his foot and continuing his way towards your room upstairs.

Like a gentleman, he knocked on the door before entering and upon hearing your voice he entered the room. You hadn't heard anything but his murderous look told you that he wasn't in the best of moods so you didn't say anything. You went to the bathroom in the large room and put on a pearl-colored sleeveless sleeping dress with a matching silk robe. Just like your husband, you preferred to dress in a Western style, you left your hair down and went out. You found him sitting on the edge of the bed, with both hands together mumbling some things, noticing how stressed he was and without saying anything you knelt on the bed behind him and started massaging his shoulders. You were involved in the world of medicine since you were little, so you knew the points where stress usually accumulates. Feeling your hands exerting pleasant pressure on his body, Muzan couldn't help but tilt his head to the side and put aside everything he was thinking, he took off his tie and closed his eyes, sighing tiredly. You continued caressing his neck, shoulders and back until slowly his muscles relaxed and his veins stopped showing under his skin.

"Can i...?" You asked, bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt.

You unbuttoned the entire garment and got rid of it completely leaving his naked and well-worked torso exposed, you continued massaging his shoulders and back until he felt good enough to close his eyes and lay his head on your chest, feeling your breasts very close to him. Your hands were soft and light, with a sincere and warm touch making his thoughts go elsewhere. While you continued doing your thing, he got rid of his belt and unbuttoned his pants without you realizing it, then grabbed your wrist with some force and brought you in front of him so that you were sitting astride his lap. As soon as you sat down, he took it upon himself to stare at you and open the robe you were wearing to see your breasts under the thin fabric of the nightgown and how your nipples were beginning to stand out. He took off your robe and then grabbed the hem of your nightgown to pull it up and take it off as well. A few seconds passed, he lightly patted your thigh to make you lift your butt so he could get rid of your panties as well, leaving you completely naked under his gaze. He gently took your hand, still looking at you, and brought it up to his face to caress it against his cheek and kiss your palm elegantly.

"You are a rather attractive woman...worthy of bearing my last name." You felt so lucky when he took the time to compliment you since you knew his disdain for almost everything.

You melted at his touch, at his kisses, but an unusual sensation on the skin of your hand made you look in that direction. You saw how a mouth began to form in Muzan's palm with teeth, tongue and everything. You knew about all the changes and transformations that his body was capable of so it no longer surprised you at all since he also knew how to use those changes to your advantage. Muzan smiled at you with seductive malice and with his free hand he grabbed your waist while the hand with his mouth went straight between your legs, placing his palm just below your pussy. You couldn't help but moan and startled a little when you felt his warm breath hitting you, you felt his tongue come out from his palm and begin to suck and lick all your folds. You looked at Muzan with a huge blush as you grabbed his shoulders. While his palm was in charge of your center, he brought 2 of his fingers to your hole, making you arch your back as you felt him enter and arch his fingers inside you. Both sensations made you begin to moan his name and move your hips on him to increase your own pleasure as he hardened dangerously beneath you. His entire mouth sucked on your pussy, playing with it with his teeth and pressing your clit against his tongue over and over again as he moved his fingers and the mouth on his face kissed and bit your neck and collarbones. You were starting to get very wet, the saliva and your juices between your legs making you feel very hot and slippery. Muzan's free hand took you from behind to bring you closer to him and caressed your back until it went down and reached your butt, then he went to your bust and began to knead one of your breasts between his fingers, causing you endless moans.

"Aa-aah...Muzan! Aah!" You could barely speak properly.

You rubbed your center on the palm of his hand while the mouth beneath you devoured you completely, you listened to the wet sounds that leaked beneath you and imagining the dirty scene aroused you more and more. The simple act of letting the Demon King fuck you as he pleased turned you on no matter what. Muzan was going too fast and every rub on and lick on your folds was killing you, you clung tightly to his shoulders making scratches that regenerated immediately feeling your orgasm getting closer to the point of not even being able to stay upright. Your head leaned down, leaving your left hand on his shoulder while you held on to the bed with your right as if your life depended on it, never stopping moaning or moving.

Muzan watched you from above, proud of the mess he made of you, of how he was able to lower such a prestigious and elegant lady to such a level, making her beg for more as if she were a prostitute. You were close, he knew it by the way you squeezed his fingers tighter than before and he didn't want to let this moment pass him by. Muzan grabbed your chin to make you look into his eyes.

"Look at me...you're about to cum, aren't you? I want you to look at me..."

You tried to raise your face towards him but lust was stronger than your five senses, your body was heavy with pleasure and you could barely open your eyes properly. You didn't heed his request and that might make him angry so this time he held you tighter, digging his nails into your soft flesh making your cheeks sting.

"I told you I want you to look at me when you do it...it's an order." He demanded.

You clung to his shoulders without stopping moving and he increased his speed, you squeezed him again and just when you felt yourself on the edge you looked down but forced yourself to half open your eyes and look up again just as you screamed of pleasure as you feel all your whitish and slippery discharge come out from your core, wetting all of Muzan's hand under you where his mouth did not waste a single drop.

"Your taste is very pleasant, dear. I would never get tired of it." He licked his lips.

You were shaking in his lap, sweating all over your body, and a huge blush came over you again when you looked down and saw the mess you had left in his pants. Muzan smiled evilly at you and pushed you on the bed to change places and position himself over you after having completely gotten rid of all his clothes.

Your hair was a mess on the bed, your chest rose and fell trying to normalize your breathing and you could feel your sensitive folds throbbing after such a strong euphoria. You finished having your orgasm, you were wet and slippery and Muzan wasn't going to waste that.

"It's my turn, precious."

He told you, showing you his fangs in a smile and in less than you expected he opened your legs to position himself in the middle of you, he took one of your legs behind your knee and placed it on his shoulder without letting go and then entered you with a single thrust making you moan intensely. He didn't care that you had not yet adapted to his size, he began to stretch you and move repeatedly inside you until he aroused you again. You could hear his soft moans and grunts in your ear as he moved, you took him by the shoulders again and adjusted your legs so you both felt better.

Even though this was only the second round for you you felt almost dead tired, your legs and waist were starting to hurt and you envied the way your husband wasn't even sweating. A pleasurable sensation formed inside you as you felt the crashes of each of his thrusts against your clit and the pressure you felt on it again and again causing you to stretch your toes and squeeze Muzan very tightly again. He loved feeling you that way, you drove him crazy with pleasure and you noticed how the veins appeared again on his back and arms but this time it was due to the strong arousement he was feeling. He had the nerve to lift his head from your shoulder and moan heavily as he closed his eyes and increased his speed, feeling you suck him deep.

"Fuck...you're perfect nngh, you're even better than those 12 fucking idiots." He moaned, complimenting you.

You loved pleasing your husband and even more so seeing that you were doing a good job. Knowing that you could manage to put the Demon King in such a vulnerable state turned you on more, making you eagerly wait for his orgasm and the second one on your part, but on the other hand it made you nervous. Muzan's arousal was as strong as 10 men combined every time he fucked you and his release was just as intense or even more so, so when he tilted his head back after you cum again, you felt a huge amount of his falling inside you reaching the bottom of your insides, spilling the rest between your legs until forming a whitish stain on the bed, under the two of you.

The way Muzan felt his scent permeate your flesh once again made him feel powerful, it was a way of claiming you as his because no matter how many times you showered or cleaned yourself, how many days went by without him fucking you, Muzan let his cells inside you, so that any creature that knew of his existence would also know that you belonged to him.

#muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji #demon slayer muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan smut #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months

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Before any asks come in, I figured I'd do some for my current crowning hyperfixation, which is the boys. Did one for each of their initials but Dick got two because I couldn't choose <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! , gen soft yandere behavior, murder, kidnapping, dacryphilia, sadism/masochism

D = Darling (Beyond Morality, is Any Act Justified in Their Pursuit of Their Darling? Is Consent Merely an Obstacle to Be Overcome?):

Dick: Dick is the most moral of the yandere batfam, and considers doing the right thing very important. Of course, you’re still much, much more important but… He’ll definitely start small. He’s manipulative. Always begging and pleading for a little more of your time, whining when you don’t give it. And he does it openly, too, not even trying to hide it. Maybe that will absolve him of some of his sins, he thinks a little pathetically. Things like murder and other crimes are harder for him to get into, as he’s quite loyal to Bruce’s code. And he probably wouldn’t kidnap you, just move into your house instead, then your bedroom, then under the covers and with your arms around you. Very slowly, so he doesn’t scare you away. And as someone who has experienced s/a before, he wouldn’t do that to you. No matter how desperate, no matter how many nights he spends taking a suspiciously long time in the shower, he’d never do that to you. In the end, he just wants you to be happy so… so the other stuff doesn’t need to matter as much.

Damian: Damian has a very black and white form of thinking. It took Bruce a hell of a lot of work to change that, and with the advent of you in his life, he swings right back to that black and white. Morality is thrown right out the window when it comes to getting you, to getting you to love him. Murder? He’s done it before. Kidnapping? He’ll keep you safe with him. He’s a romantic, though (like they all are) and he wants you to love him back. He’s irritated that he can’t force that, that if he broke you, you wouldn’t be you. So in the end he won’t ever do anything too far, nothing that would truly get in the way of his goal. Still, with the kidnapping thing, you guys are just going to get stuck together for a while, because he’s certainly not letting you go. The two of you are just gonna have to suffer together till you inevitable fall in love with him. Don’t worry, he’s got a plan!

J = Jealousy (Does Jealousy Course Through Their Veins, Leading to Possessive Outbursts and a Relentless Need to Eliminate Perceived Threats?):

Jason: Jason is so unbelievably jealous it sometimes physically hurts. Like he’s being burned alive by it, which, well, he knows what that’s like so he can say it with confidence. He finds your presence calming, usually, but that first time he sees you laughing at a close friend’s joke, he realises you bring out every emotion in him. This time, fiery rage from the literal pits’ of hell. He won’t ever hurt you (and if he ever thinks of it, even for just a moment, the pure horror is enough of a cool bucket of icy water over his head to snap him out of it) but others? Oh, oh no. He left that silly ‘no killing’ code behind a long time ago, and he’s very glad for that as he beats one of your admirers into the concrete. And if you have other yanderes under your thrall? You’ll find yourself constantly breaking up fights, and maybe one day, cleaning up a body. Even then, Jason doesn’t like seeing you touch them, so he does it for you instead. What a sweet guy, eh?

R = Regret (Would Guilt Ever Be a Foreign Emotion, Overridden by the Conviction That Their Actions Are Justified? Is the Idea of Letting Their Darling Go Inconceivable?):

Richard/Dick: Constantly. Dick is constantly suffering under the weight of his choices, the way he’s treated you, the things he thinks about you. And even as he does it again, does worse, he’ll still have that bit of guilt in the back of his mind. He wants to stay with you, to fucking climb inside your rib cage and live next to the comforting sound of your beating heart, but he knows that’s all unhealthy. He sometimes can’t banish the guilt from his head, sometimes it’s overwhelming, and those are the moments he’ll back off a bit.

T = Tears (Does the Sight of Their Darling's Suffering Evoke a Twisted Pleasure, a Morbid Satisfaction Reinforcing Their Control?):

Tim (Going to play around with this one a bit, if you’ll forgive me): Tim is purely fascinated by you. He’s one of the yanderes who gets obsessed with you first, and falls for you second. Your tears, just simply by being a byproduct of you are fascinating to him too. And yeah, they turn him on. Everything about you turns him on, but the sight of your weepy face, has his cock weepy too. As a sadomasochist switch, he likes it when you’re suffering just a little bit. It’s just too cute to resist. But on the other side… he likes when you make him cry too. He likes when you hurt him, as long as you’re paying him attention, looking at him. He’ll cry all you like, if you think it makes him cute, too.

#Event:1kCelebration #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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milksuu · 6 months

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𓆩🖤𓆪 Screw Your Bike! 𓆩🖤𓆪

❥ prompt: You hated to admit it but, you were jealous of a damn motorcycle. How was it possible to feel second place to a vrooming object with two-wheels? What did it have that you didn't? A leather seat and a holo-graphic chrome wrap, really? Well, if Kayn wanted to take a ride, he'd have to go through you. Literally and figuratively. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!kayn, dirty talk, bratty behavior, profanity ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!kayn x f!reader

You were going to be in so much trouble. Good. That's where you wanted to be. After being blown off recently, you weren't trying to be nice. If Kayn wanted to keep having fun with his new toy, then he'd have to go through you.

"Where the hell are my keys?" He growled out loud. Frustration igniting that irresistible scowl across his features. "I swear, if Ezreal thought It'd be funny to hide them, then it's going to be funnier when I murder him."

Oh. Poor Ezreal. You hated if he ever took the blame for your misdeed. But your secret wouldn't be kept for long. It was only a matter of time before you were found it. Which, you wanted to be. Very badly.

Kayn asked for your help in looking for the missing keys. You played your part well; sifting through cluttered drawers and couch cushions. After searching the house, it was time to search around the garage.

"Probably left it in the ignition or something," Kayn mumbled to himself, scanning the body of his motorcycle.

You stood a few feet away. Smiling. Watching him wrack his brain about where exactly were those damned keys. It was time to be found out. You bounced on your toes. Jingle Jingle.

That definitely caught someone's attention. Kayn looked up, narrowing his green eye against you. "Did you just...jingle?"

"I don't know. Did I?" You posed with fake innocence. You bounced again. Jingle Jingle. "Mm, maybe I did. I can't really tell. Would you mind finding out for me?”

Kayn’s look spat fire, but his smirk crossed with intrigue. He sauntered over with a sway, and sucked against his teeth. “Clever hiding spot. But kinda uninspiring, don’t you think?”

You merely shrugged. Allowing him to bask in whatever verbal triumph he wanted to display. You had to keep your cool. Especially when he plunged a hand between your cleavage. You held in a shudder. The rough of his knuckles brushed against your nipples during his careless search.

That all-too confident smirk faltered at the ends. But where his ended, your grin began. Nothing was there.

"You were right. That spot was uninspiring." You shook your lower half. Jingle Jingle. "Wonder where else they could be."

Kayn's jaw tightened. You saw the clench of teeth. He didn't liked to be fooled with. The fire that blazed just behind his eyes told you the punishment he wanted to reign. All according to plan.

"You're a damned brat." He said with a bite, tempting to snake a hand up your black mini-skirt.

He almost barked when you gripped his wrist, pinning his hand against your inner thigh. You narrowed your mascaraed lashes against him. "And you're an ass-head. Think I'd be happy with you blowing me off over your supped-up tricycle?"

Kayn glanced from his motorcycle back to you. So, this is what this was all about. You wanted to pick a fight with him over his new toy. Fine, have it your way—but it wasn't going to be the verbal kind. Words were all pointless, meaningless, a waste of time. Fucking things out always worked better.

Kayn slammed his mouth down on yours. You yelped, gripping his wrist tighter. You wouldn't relent, not so easily. When he sucked and nipped at your lower lip, you wrapped your free hand around his neck, grasping for some semblance of control.

Kayn groaned from the slight pressure and claimed your mouth fully. He returned that pressure by gripping tighter against your thigh fat. You were going to let his hand go. Unless you wanted bruises. He wasn't afraid to leave a mark or two on your body. Actually, he preferred it. A reminder of him anytime you undressed.

You whined a moan. The digging of his fingers sending shocks between your legs. You gasped for air, your strength siphoned.

Kayn breathed a shit-winning smirk into your ear. You bit your bottom lip. He thrusted his fingers inside your panty line. Sliding the keys out, the metal jostled and glided against your folds. Wet slicked and coated.

"You're going to pay for almost tarnishing the metal. I don't think you know exactly how much I'd have to cough up to replace them. Nothing you could afford with cash, anyway." Kayn's features darkened, licking the keys clean of your taste.

Oh God. He was such a dick. This is exactly what you wanted. "You're such an ass—"

You cried out when frim hands smacked against your back side, gripping the now tender flesh. Yanking you off your feet, Kayn practically tossed you onto his motorcycle. With your back pressed against the control panel, Kayn settled between your straddled legs. He was going to fuck on you his motorcycle to make a point? Before you could protest, Kayn possessed your lips with a snarl and bite. Goose-bumps rose when you heard the undoing of his jean button and the down slide of his zipper.

"I hope I ruin the leather on this stupid thing," you said, gripping his hot dick in your hand.

Kayn growled and shoved your mini-skirt up to your stomach, snapping your panties to the side. "Ruin it and you're going to be licking your mess off the seat, while I fuck you from behind."

Shit. That sounded so hot. "Screw your fucking bike," you said with a shudder. His fingers swiped against your pussy. Completely drenched for him.

"Don't tempt me with the idea." Kayn took himself from you in his hand, circling your clit with the head of his cock. Slicking it up and down. You writhed, legs shaking against his sides.

Kayn shifted his hips. With his glazed tip, he dragged the length of his cock through your entrance. Your throbbing folds parted, spreading around his shaft. Pushing up to your cervix, he dragged up and back, coating himself with your fluids.

Your hands snatched his shoulders, finding your nails leaving desperate trails for him to take you, over and over and over again. Pleading for him to never stop.

Kayn bent forward, gripping the motorcyle handles. He dipped his head, pressing his teeth against the helix of your ear. "Think you're more exciting than my bike? Then you better purr louder." Bastard!

Kayn slammed inside of you, delivering all of his frustration, hunger and revenge. Taking you like the demon that he inevitably was. You cried out, tightening your legs around him, holding him closer. As if he was your savior and not your actual reaper.

Fuck. You were so hot, tight, and wet. Your walls pulsed and squeezed, making him swell and throb. Kayn gritted his teeth. He almost let himself reach his threshold before you—he was never going to let you fucking win.

Kayn lapped a long tongue across your neck, before diving and sinking a pair of canines into your skin. An apparent mark of his victory. You whole body jolted with pleasure. Your pussy clamped down so hard around his shaft, for a moment, Kayn's vision went black.

You screamed his name. Bucked against him. Coming all around him. Kayn went with you, catching his vulgar groans in his throat as he filled up your insides.

You got exactly what you wanted. Kayne think's he's won, and that's fine. But you were the real winner. He rode you before the damn bike. You smiled to yourself. All according to plan.

#heartsteel #heartsteel x reader #kayn x reader #reader insert #sheida kayn #league of legends #LoL #this is like only my second time writing smut #sorry if its not the best #need to practice so that's what im gonna do haha #ever since i saw the motocycle sex had to happen on it #pls dont judge my fatherless behavior

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