#seeing sharp teeth and claws sends a shudder through my back like no other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bucksfucks · 3 years

Text

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚

TFATWS EPISODE THREE SPOILERS.

summary┃the plan was simple. get in, get out, and always remember rule number three; no one gets hurt.

pairing┃tws!bucky x f!reader

word count┃1,935 words

warnings┃dubcon elements, soft!dark!tws, semi-public sex, choking, spitting kink, metal arm kink, soldat kink, death threat, degradation, mocking, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY MENTIONED ELEMENTS.

“Is the plan understood?” It’s Zemo who asks the question, nodding to each of you as you all exchange looks before heading your separate ways.

When you enter the scene, you can feel the floor shaking under your feet from the bass. Drinks are passed around with bodies floating through the space.

“And I thought we knew how to party in New York.” Your voice is muffled over the music, but you know Bucky can hear you.

“I haven’t partied like this ever.” He has to yell back in order for you to hear him as you both laugh.

You have to push your way through the crowd before stopping at where Sam and Zemo are left waiting for you.

Zemo nods towards Bucky, Bucky taking in a deep breath before giving him one nod.

He’s wearing something you’d never seen him in; Winter Soldier gear sans the mask.

“Longing.” You can see the twitch in Bucky’s metal fingers.

“Rusted.” It gets worse as he tenses his jaw.

“Furnace.” You have to look away when you see the pained look in his face.

Sam looks at you, a look that tells you to stick to the plan so you drift back and mix into the crowd.

You were nothing but a distraction, a distraction that would hopefully buy you guys some time.

But something went wrong.

Something always goes wrong.

You can see the obvious and evident switch in Bucky—there’s something more sinister in his eyes now as he watches you move from side to side; standing completely motionless and trained on you.

There’s a moment of realization when you realize just what’s happened.

A moment of oh fuck before he’s striding over to you and grasping at your upper arms.

“Come with me, Bunny. We have some unfinished business.” His voice is low and calm, parts of Bucky shining through, but you can’t seem to find him in his eyes.

“Bucky,” you try remain calm, but his hip is firm and you know that this is a battle you won’t win in.

You can’t help it when your voice falters in fear, but you can’t afford to bring any attention to yourself.

Sam is elsewhere, Zemo in tow as your eyes dart to find them—at the bar, drinking.

You were all alone, you had no backup; Bucky was your backup.

He was no longer Bucky, but the Winter Soldier.

“I said come. Don’t make me put you over my shoulder.” He threatened as you swallowed thickly.

You quickly search for Sam or Zemo, but they’re long gone. The distraction worked and they’d be proceeding with the plan.

What they didn’t know is that Bucky wasn’t Bucky.

It didn’t feel like a threat, you felt your pussy jump in excitement at the prospect of Bucky’s hands on your body.

Your feet moved instinctually through the crowd, lead by Bucky as he took one final scan of the room to make sure that you were alone; that no one was following you.

You didn’t feel helpless, it was more than you felt like you were under a spell—inclined to do whatever Bucky wanted.

Suddenly you were slammed up against a wall, the air being knocked out of your lungs as you let out a pained hiss.

“Scream, and I’ll kill you.” He looked feral.

“Try to fight back, and I’ll kill you.” Darkness consumed his eyes.

“Do anything other than what I tell you, and I’ll kill you.”

You want to scream, to kick and fight back—you know that you damn well could put up on hell of a fight.

But you don’t.

Instead, you submit and comply.

“Yes,” you whisper, watching the smirk spread across his face.

“There’s my good girl. A dumb and stupid, but a good girl.” He purrs, running his gloved finger down your cheek until it’s hooked under your chin.

You whimper, lip shaking with your sharp inhale.

“Bucky,” you croak before your face is tightly gripped between his fingers as he snarls and shows you his teeth.

“You will call me, Soldat.” He rasped, dark and sinister with no mercy in sight.

A silent mewl escaped through your parted lips as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to steady your breathing as your heart begged to be set free.

“What’s my name?” He asks you, a test of your loyalty as you pry your eyes open.

“Soldat,” you whisper back, a pleased smile on his face as he hears the syllables leave your lips.

“Good, maybe you aren’t as useless as I thought.” He snickers, dropping your face but trapping you against the wall with his flesh forearm against your neck.

Your airway is constricted for a second, laboured and painful before Bucky is pulling you off of the wall.

“Follow me,” he barks, tugging you by the back of the neck until you budge.

His strides are long as you’re forced to keep up with him, walking through hallways so robotically with a stiff body.

You don’t know where you’re going, but the booming music is getting softer.....quieter, straying further and further out of your reach.

Bucky’s shoulders look huge, absolutely massive in the tight leather outfit he’s wearing. You know he’s in there somewhere, you just don’t know how to reach him.

But maybe you don’t want to.

Suddenly, you’re pushed against a wall, with his metal hand covering your mouth as your eyes go wide and you try to gasp.

“Don’t scream, Bunny.” He purrs, smirking as you hear two sets of footsteps go past you, completely unaware that there’s someone else in their presence.

Your heart is in your throat when he removes his hand, tugging you off the wall again so he’s holding your entire body weight up with his arm.

“Good girl, you learn quickly.” He praises, finger hooked up your chin. His lips hover right over yours, brushing them slightly—just enough to leave you wanting more.

There’s a flutter in your stomach, a feeling akin to when you’ve gone over a large hill or descended on a roller coaster; exciting and terrifying all at once.

“I’ve always been so,” he trails his finger down your jaw, “intrigued by you.”

You don’t know what it means, but you want to.

You’re shoved into a small room, a closet that barely fits the two of you. It’s dark and smells like aged wood.

His thigh is wedged between your legs, “always following orders.” He hums against your ear, nipping the skin below it.

“A Soldat’s dream,” it’s dark, the way he refers to himself.

“You’re gonna let me do whatever I want to you, Bunny.”

It’s not a question, you don’t have a choice, you’ve unwittingly sealed your fate as he meshes his lips against yours.

It’s overwhelming; his thick, padded thigh creating delicious friction against your cunt. Or the way his teeth sink into your bottom lip, tugging it to hear your soft whimpers.

You feel the wet, hot tell-tale signs of tears roll down your cheeks as Bucky pulls away to cradle your face.

It’s dark but your eyes are fully adjusted. It’s just too bad that you can see nothing else but darkness in his eyes.

“There’s no need to cry, Bunny,” he cooes, “I will take care of you.”

You’re unsure why you trust him, why you feel your body giving into him, but that’s what happens next.

A sinister chuckle passes through his lips as he tugs your pants down.

“I can smell you already,” he hisses, his cock hardening against your hip.

“You can try to fight me, Bunny. But your body tells me that you want this, that you need my cock filling you up.”

Your pussy jumps at his words, breathing ragged and heavy as the ache in your core burns right through you.

Your mouth falls open when you hear the whirring of his bionic fingers massage you slowly through your panties.

“I never said I wouldn’t make this enjoyable for you,” he smirks, watching you closely as your hands go to the vest he’s wearing.

He snarls, grabbing them at your wrists and lifting them over your head as you shudder at his strength.

If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve already.

“Maybe you are stupid,” he hisses. “Did I give you permission to touch?” He asks.

He nudges your clit with more force making you squeak.

He wanted an answer.

“N-no, Soldat.” You croak, feeling an sensation of...fulfillment when he smiles.

“Good little Bunny.” He sing-songs, “so wet and responsive.”

You gasp, mewl, arch your back as he slips two vibranium fingers into you. A shiver runs down your spine at the coolness of them, your walls welcoming them warmly.

“Can you hear that?” He asks, “hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”

You can, you can hear your wetness coating his fingers as he pumps them inside of you.

It’s absolutely filthy.

His other hand drops your wrists to your sides, flesh fingers crawling around your neck.

“Look at me, Bunny.” You don’t need to be told twice as your eyes shoot open.

“Open that pretty little mouth of you,” his voice is low and raspy, but collected despite his aching cock pressed against your hip.

His thumb presses into your bottom lip, folding it down to encourage you to open your mouth. Which you do, because he’s just too damn compelling.

You gasp back a moan, thick digits inside of your cunt now brushing that sweet, sweet, sweet spot as you watch Bucky’s saliva trail into your own mouth.

“Mine.” He growls, forcing your mouth closed, watching you swallow.

Your heartbeat reverberates in your ears, blood soaring to and from your heart as you feel yourself clenching around him.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” His words send you toppling over the edge, legs shaking and convulsing gently as he has to hold you up as you come.

There’s a zip, a tug of something, a gasp for breath as you feel his cock at your entrance.

“There’s no running now, Bunny. I’m gonna consume you,” he snarls, pushing himself past the threshold as he groans at the feeling of your wetness.

You’re forced to dig your fingernails into the leather of his jacket—clawing at it as you relish in the stretch.

He grunts with every powerful thrust, his chest colliding with your chest as he holds you up with ease.

He’s using you. Eyebrows taut as he focuses on one thing and one thing only; his carnal instincts.

“Shut up,” he seethes, shoving his fingers into your mouth.

They’re cool, tasting like your own arousal and something you can’t quite decipher.

“Say my name, say it.” He pants into your ear, something in his voice breaking.

“S-Soldat.” You choke out, trying to focus on the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“My name,” he whispers, “say, my name.”

Your heart hiccups as you open your eyes, “Bucky.”

He’s there, he’s looking at you—holding you tightly as you can see the same light in his eyes that you did just an hour ago.

“Bucky.” You say with more conviction, more confidently as you crash your lips on his.

“Your name is Bucky.” You whisper against his lips, feeling pleasure seeping in through your toes and spreading upwards.

The air is thick and hot, sticky and wet as you both catch your breaths.

You don’t trust your own legs to hold you weight, but when they hit the solid marble floor, you don’t have a choice.

“My name is Bucky,” he whispers, holding your face in one hand.

“But you are still my Bunny.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucksfucks writes — [♡] ;#dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon

3K notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years

Text

nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz

#mike munroe #mike munroe x reader #mike x reader #until dawn x reader #until dawn #until dawn fic #mike until dawn #sadie writes #i always get so insecure when i post things that arent for atla #then i remember that. this is my blog and i can write what i want #lol

432 notes · View notes

lord-explosion-baku · 3 years

Text

Tease

Yuuji Itadori x reader x Ryomen Sukuna

Warnings: noncon, dark themes, teasing, slight daddy kink, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, Sukuna’s big stomach tongue doing nasty things, very slight anal play

You’ll never admit that you love this game.

The “tease Yuuji until he’s grumpy, needy, and pouting—all because you refuse to fuck him” game.

There’s something about having your boyfriend nuzzle up in the crook of your neck, wrap his strong arms around you, and pull your ass against his hard, neglected cock, only for you to turn him down, and have him whine for it some more. You laugh and act abashed, but you’re really thinking, ‘Poor Yuuji. When will he ever learn?’

What you should’ve been asking yourself is ‘when will he ever crack?’

Because maybe you arch your back a little too slowly, and maybe you rub up against him a little too much, and when he kisses the back of your neck, maybe you sigh a little too longingly—a little too convincingly—and maybe you drive Yuuji a little too crazy.

“Baby,” he rasps, before ghosting his lips down your neck. His hand runs circles around your stomach, before slowly trailing down to the hem of your skirt. He toys with the waistline, shifting his fingers in and out, barely grazing your skin, then reaches for your button. “Please.”

Grabbing his hand and pulling it up to your lips, you laugh and say, “that’s far enough.”

A deep, permeating groan builds up in the back of Yuuji’s throat. It tumbles out when he shifts his hips forward, and his clothed cock slides between your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” you chide, and turn in his embrace. Lust-heavy, brown eyes bore into yours. His face is rosy with frustration, and by just a quick glance downwards, you can see that the front of his shorts have a small, wet mark, right where his erection pops out. You try not to grin, and instead say, “it’s not the right time.”

Though your actions betray your words, because you scoot closer to Yuuji in your shared space on the couch. His dick presses against your pubic bone and slides up to your stomach. There’s a sharp inhale, and Yuuji’s cheeks inflate, as if he’s trying not to explode.

“You’re killing me,” he blows out. “Sending your boyfriend straight to his grave.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” You laugh while turning his chin to the side to expose the column of his neck. Smirking, you rake your teeth up his throat, relishing the shudder he gives off, his fingers curling into your shirt.

“I want you,” he hisses. “I want you so bad, baby. It’s not fair. Can't you just—just touch it. Just a little bit. It’s aching, baby. Aching for you.”

“Yuuji,” you croon, using his broad chest to level yourself up. You dig your claws into his pecs, causing him to release a low groan. “You love me, right?”

“Of course.” His voice is hoarse with need, just how you like it.

“And you’d do anything for me, right?”

His cheeks are pinker than his hair when he whispers, “yeah-huh.”

Dipping your head down so that your lips are a razor’s edge away from his, you ask, “then you can wait for me, right Yuuji? You can wait, and when it’s the right time, I’ll be sure to make every second worth it to you.”

A croaking noise cracks out of Yuuji’s throat. Goosebumps appear on your legs when he slides his fingers up your thighs, then tightens his hold on your hips, and pulls you down to grind against his dick. It presses against your opening, putting pressure on your clit. Your stomach does a little flip when he asks, “feel how hard it is, baby? Fuck, all I want is to feel you sink onto my cock, y’know. Stretch your tight lil walls. I'd be so careful with you too. Never hurt you.”

Cute, but you already know that.

“Tell me what you really want,” you whisper as your hips begin to roll, your center bobbing up and down his shaft. Yuuji pulses underneath you, his mouth falling open on a shaky exhale.

“Dick you down, hard and good-“ his mutter is practically a groan, his fingers digging into your sides-“hear you cry. Make you regret taking so long.”

Your excitement grows more palpable, your cunt throbbing. “More, Yuuji.”

Blushing, Yuuji gives you more.

“I wanna play with you too. Eat your little pussy until you're trembling, begging to cum. You probably taste so good. So slick and warm. I’ll see you fall apart—break even, and before you get to cum, I’d have you choke on my cock. Your lips are so perfect, I know they’d feel so fucking hot wrapped around me. I think about it all the time.”

“Do you, now?” It’s news to you, but you like it. Yuuji has a bit of a dark side—something you’d like to explore. Leaning down to flick your tongue across his earlobe, slow and sensuously, until you suck him in, relishing how his body tenses up, your body vibrates when his voice breaks on a shuddered gasp. Lowly you ask, “want me to be your slut? Make me take your cock like a good girl? Swallow all of your hot, tasty cum?”

“Fuck. Yes.” Yuuji greedily palms your ass, his thumbs creeping towards your core. When he reaches it, he teases you through your panties, sliding up and down your vulva. “God, you’re wet. I knew you’d be, but—shit.”

Moving an arm around your waist, he presses his knuckle against your clit, soothing it up and down. You twitch, following his touch, sighing softly as he exerts a little more pressure. His other hand trails up your back, until he twists his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a deep, consuming kiss. His lips are hot, and wet, and needy. His tongue, desperate to taste you, teases your lips open and laps up your moans.

“You want it, too.” Yuuji breathes huskily, petting your hair back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Your body flushes, liquid heat shooting down your belly to pool at your center. Yuuji sort of half-laughs, then proceeds to pull your damp panties to the side. However, the moment he reaches for the hem of his shorts, you grab onto his wrist and tut at him. His brows narrow in outrage, but he doesn’t say anything.

The difference between his strength and yours is monumental. Everyone knows how capable he is—his sheer power. He could easily throw you back against the couch and pounce on you, rutting into you to show you your place. It makes you curious. Being thrown around a bit seems like it could be fun. Yuuji asserting his dominance could be even more fun.

But he doesn’t throw you. What he does is far worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s not what you want to hear, but there’s a glint in his eye. It’s hard to tell if it really is guilt, or something else.

It’s something else.

Something like black carvings or tattoos appear on his face, arms, and chest. His body shakes, and soon, two powerful arms grow out from under his natural pair, and the slits under his eyes open to reveal scathing, red irises.

No.

Not him.

“Yuuji,” you whisper warily. Your fingers tremble as they reach for your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yuuji, please come back.”

But before your hand can make contact with his face, the monster wraps his fingers around your wrist, yanking your arm back as one of his other three hands snatches your other wrist. He’s quick to lean up and pull you closer so that your breasts push up against his hard, bare chest, your legs wrapped around his torso, and his cock pushing against your ass.

Lips wobbling, you make another pitiful attempt to call Yuuji back to you, but the words don’t come out right. They’re strangled and choked and-

“Pathetic,” the monster in front of you drawls. Keeping your wrists clasped together, he uses a free hand to wipe a renegade tear away from your hot cheeks. “Already crying and I haven’t yet done anything to you. Oh, there’s no need to pout, little one. Daddy’s here.”

Finally, you have enough sense in you to fight back, but it’s all for naught. Even though you try to kick, and you try to bite, and you try to wriggle yourself free, it’s all hopeless. His hold on you is vice, and if anything, he looks amused at your sorry struggle.

Your defiant gaze meets his, and despite the tears streaming down your cheeks, you muster the willpower to bare your teeth at him, and snarl. As if he could ever be intimidated by the likes of you.

He snarls right back, taunting you, making light of your hapless effort to try to threaten him. You jerk back in response, not realizing that you’d be pressed against his hard length. It throbs between your thighs. Your eyes go wide, and in response, the curse snickers.

“Keep wigglin’, girl,” he jeers, free arms moving around your back to lock you in place. “Feels good on my cock.”

Rebelliously, you still, hoping to make it so he gets the least amount of pleasure out of this as possible. If he’s going to kill you, you’d like to go out with some dignity.

As if reading your mind, he tuts at you, just like you did with Yuuji, then moves his cheek to nuzzle against your neck—a mockery of a lover’s touch. The soft charade ends before you can pretend it’s nice, though, because soon his tongue laves out, drawing a wet streak up your throat, before he briskly bites down, sucking harshly on your fragile flesh.

A scream burbles out of your esophagus, but it does nothing to ease the pain the curse is inflicting on you. One of his hands moves up your chest. It gropes your left breast, thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple. He sucks and licks until you’re sure he’s left a giant mark on your skin, and when he’s happy enough with his work, he begins kissing you down your neck, to your collarbone, then to your jaw.

A unique languor disperses throughout your body, sucking your desire to fight. You don’t know if it’s because you’ve tired yourself out, or if you’re just…relieved he’s not hurting you—not in a way that you never wanted Yuuji to, anyways. That doesn’t mean you’re giving up.

There’s one thing you haven’t tried yet, and though it seems your throat to do it, you have no other choice but to try.

“Please,” you begin, feeling lower than dirt at having to beg for your release. “Let me go. I can’t do this…”

“And why should I?” He whispers, cool breath blowing against your cheek.

“Yuuji, he—“

“—offered me a deal,” the monster admits, all teeth. “So long as I don’t inflict any permanent damage on you, and he can feel everything we feel, I can do with you as I wish.”

No. Yuuji would never.

“You’re lying,” you murmur, although when you think about it, you’re not sure. Yuuji had…an odd expression right before the other appeared.

“Whether you believe me or not doesn’t matter to me. I’m in control now, and, little girl, it’s been so long since I’ve had my way with a woman. I plan to cease every second of this. Whether you’re willing or not, I will take you, and oh-“ his voice drops an octave when he says, “I promised him that you’ll like it too. Not that that will be any trouble.”

Unceremoniously, his tongue sweeps your lips, and even though you try your hardest to keep your mouth, when sharp teeth bite down on your bottom lip, you grant his access with a yip.

The kiss is leisurely, like he has all the time to waste on molding his lips to yours. His tongue stroke against yours. Beside yourself, you melt into him, picturing it’s Yuuji you’re touching. He hums, seemingly content with your compliance. When he pulls away, his smirk makes your heart jump. His eyes, Yuuji’s eyes, are still so soft. Deceiving.

He lifts you so he can get a better look at your body. Hands roaming your body, he gazes at you appraisingly, and says, “I’ll admit that the brat has good taste. You’d be the perfect woman if you weren’t such a prude.”

With that, Sukuna tears your shirt off your chest—the flimsy and annoying obstruction—to reveal the sheer bralette underneath. Your nipples press against Sukuna’s hands, hardening when he palms you covetously. His smirk widens.

“Not a prude,” he muses darkly, “a tease.” He pinches your nipples hard, making you half-cry, half-moan. “That was cute. You’re gonna be fun.”

“I don’t want this,” you pant, hating the sound of desire coating each word. “I don’t…”

“No?” The curse—the monster—looks amused, a dark gleam in his eyes. A sharp fingernail trails down your bare stomach, and you shudder as heat rushes towards your center, and down between your thighs. Sensing your inner response, he sneers up at you, and in one horrifying second, your boyfriend’s body splits open, revealing a dark, cavernous hole in his stomach. It contorts in an odd way until sharpened teeth, and a long, pink tongue appears. The stomach grins, right before its tongue slowly licks up your center.

The shrieking begins when the licking doesn’t stop. The slow, rhythmic laps soak through your panties. It moves in an undulating motion, thick and wet, forcing you to ride it like a mechanical bull. It’s so strong that even when you close your thighs around it in hopes of maybe squeezing it enough to hurt, it doesn’t do anything except make the monster below you chuckle. It’s completely violating you, not only licking your pussy, but your ass too. Everything is so wet, and sensitive, and hot, that soon your crying evolves into moans, and you can’t help but clench on top of this intrusion.

“Such a responsive little slut for someone who doesn’t want this.” One of the curse’s four hands pets you down your bare back, until it lands on your ass. He gives it an appreciative squeeze, first to feel you, to claim you, then to hold you in place as his stomach tongue begins vibrating at a high intensity.

“No,” you whimper when you begin to feel something coiling up on the inside. The pleasure is so startling, so intense, that you begin to mewl. You’re begging, but you’re unsure if it’s for him to stop, or if it’s for him to let you cum.

With two hands still holding your wrists together, and the others now sitting behind his head to cushion him, he watches with moderate interest as you come undone.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs, “you want to cum for me, little one? Let me taste your pleasure?”

“No,” you say again, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to picture you’re anywhere else. “Yuuji.”

The curse tightens his eyes and groans.

Suddenly, the stomach-mouth closes, and you’re lifted up, your panties pulled to the side, and placed back down, his palm pressing into your cunt. Without registering what is happening, you blink at him, a question building in your foggy mind, but you never get to ask it.

Something warm slides up your slit, flirting with your opening. It twirls around your clit, and you begin to shake, realizing that it’s another tongue. He’s eating you out from the palm of his hand, and it only intensifies your tension. You’re burning from the inside out, your pussy pounding as the tongue slides in and out…in and out.

“Say my name,” he hisses, jaggedly, like he’s barely keeping it together. “Say my name, and I’ll take pity on you.”

“Ah…fuck…” Resolve crumbling, you fall forward and onto his chest. His fingers rake up your back, only intensifying your pleasure. Your hips wheel around, chasing his palm…his tongue…your ecstasy.

“Say it,” he commands. The palm’s mouth closes around your clit and starts to suck. Holding back your moans becomes unbearable. It’s all you can do to stop from screaming again, and even then, it’s not much.

“Sukuna!” You plead, tears dotting your eyes. “Please—ah! Please let me cum! Sukuna please, god!”

“So good, little one,” Sukuna coos, “so sweet.” He sucks and nibbles and licks amplify, and you squirm and gyrate against his tongue, barreling towards what was before a very elusive edge. You go over with a trilled moan, trembling, crying, euphoric.

Absolutely devastated.

And it’s not over. He’s not done with you.

Before you can stop vibrating, Sukuna pulls you up against him, lining you up with him. His cock head pries at your center, breaching your surface when he kisses you roughly. It's a vicious and animal, all encompassing kiss, like he’s been starving for it.

“Sit on it,” he instructs. His hands move up and down your sides, either to comfort you, or to remind you that he could force you down if he was so inclined. “Slide down on my cock like a good girl. I want to be buried inside of you.”

When you begin to descend, Sukuna sharply snaps his hips upwards, forcing himself in urgently. The sudden intrusion is enough to make you yip, your body set aflame. Sukuna’s—Yuuji’s pupils expand, his eyes growing darker as he watches you struggle to take him in. There’s no time to get used to his size. He’s moving, and you have no choice but to react. Reluctantly, you stretch for him, and he slowly moves out, only to harshly push back in.

“Beautiful,” he rasps. The praise sends shivers up your spine, and makes you pulse around his cock. You’re sure the evil bastard can feel it, too, because he cups your jaw, and exalts you. “Pretty girl, you feel so good. So tight. A natural submissive, too. Isn’t that right?”

You’re about to object, and when he senses it, he pulls you off of him, and throws you to the floor. You have no time to run, because he climbs on top of you, shoves your head down to the floor, and pulls your ass up.

“When I ask you a question, you answer me,” he rumbles against your neck. It’s violent, but one hand is still on your ass, caressing you soothingly. “You say, ‘yes, daddy’ like my sweet little girl. Unless you want me to treat you as a cum-dumpster—some whore to spill my seed in.” His thumb begins stroking your ass hole, and your body shivers in anticipation. “In any hole that I want. Do you understand me?”

“…yes, daddy,” you weep into the carpet and pray for this to end soon.

Sukuna guides his shaft back inside of you, and it presses against a spot that makes vision darken for a second. He’s relentless when he drives into you, over and over again. His heat surrounds you, weight pressing you into the floor. His large hands rub your skin, petting you all over, and the caresses almost make this intimate, until his touch, again, travels to your other hole.

Trepidation pumps through your blood, making you squeeze his cock. The fear is something electric and addictive, and it has you warbling. He groans, picking up his pace, but his thumb doesn’t leave its place.

“Are you afraid, little one?” Sukuna’s timbre takes on a darker edge. “Scared I’m gonna do the same thing to your ass that I’m doing to your beautiful, fucking pussy?”

The right answer eludes you. You’re not thinking. Your walls close around Sukuna every time he speaks. Every time he pushes himself to his hilt, fills you up, and claims you. By the tears staining the carpet, you can assume that yes. You’re very afraid.

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl, right before Sukuna twists his fingers into your hair, and pulls you back. Two arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing you to him, and his last hand reaches around you to rub circles around your too-sensitive clit. “Ohhh, god. Yes.”

“You should be.” He latches onto your neck and sucks violently. You scream as your second orgasm rips through you, forcefully shaking your entire body as Sukuna hammers into you, his pace kiltering off. He’s about to chase you.

“Daddy, please, no…” not inside. Not inside.

Sukuna scoffs, gives you several more cruel pumps, then pulls out, straining you to fall on your back so he can stroke himself off, spraying hot, white ropes of cum across your hot stomach.

“Mine,” Sukuna declares. He smoothes his hand over your sweaty belly, spreading his cum across your skin. “The next time you tease the brat, I’ll take more than your pretty pussy, little girl. That’s a promise.” He dips down low to glide his tongue up your cheek. “So don’t you hesitate to call on me again.”

Then, the marks and the arms disappear, the second pair of eyes closing. The brown eyes that blink at you, shining with something like shame or pleasure, are Yuuji’s.

“Baby…” He says, and you don’t have it in you to cringe away from him when he crowds you into a hug. He pulls you against him, kissing your temple, whispering apologies. He asks if you’re okay, and you don’t know.

But you can’t stop thinking…about when the next time you’ll play the “Tease Yuuji” game.

#yuuji itadori x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #Itadori x reader #Yuuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk lemon #reader insert #suggestive themes #jjk smut #sukuna smut

891 notes · View notes

words-etched-in-her-skin · 3 years

Text

Hello, my dears! This request came from my Ao3 account after my Alcina mirror sex fic posted. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it 😏🤤 - noooooo please don't leave it there i need to see alcina lose control with that big strap this was so hot 🥵

****

The refreshed feeling of cool mahogany against your feverish skin, the deep heat that seemed to roll off of Alcina’s body in sweeping waves, the words that now spun unhindered through your bliss hazed mind.. ‘Be a good pet, and brace yourself’’. And god, how badly you wanted to show her just how good you could be. How well you could submit. How desperately you wanted her to destroy you - ripping that safeword straight from your breathless lips.

Alcina’s heady pheromones swiftly enveloping you - intoxicatingly indulgent - the full length of her leaned over the back of you, casting your body in a deep shadow. You could feel her warm breath ghosting over your neck and shoulders as she leaned in a little closer, sending a prompt shiver down your spine.

“Such an intoxicating pet you are.” She murmured, placing a soft kiss to the base of your neck. “The things that you entice me to do.”

You let out a strangled moan as she followed her sweet kisses with the unmistakable sharpness of her teeth. Alcina’s strap still stationary inside you - buried deep within your aching core. And it took everything in you not to buck your hips back into her out of pure desperation. Even if the thought of her punishing you made your whole body fill with heat, fill the uttermost need. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than for her to completely demolish you - to wholly wreck you - stopping herself just short of ripping you apart.

You shivered as her warm breath skated across your back and shoulder blades. The length of her tongue exploring the base of your neck before finally finding your ear.

“And so delicious, too.” She whispered.

“Ah-! Please, my lady.”

“And so sweet.”

She punctuated her praise with an absolutely indulgent thrust, forcing you to cry out.

“So obedient.”

Another as she nipped at your soft skin.

“So perfect.”

Fireworks building behind your eyes as your deeply flushed face fell flat against the vanity. Each praised filled thrust causing an immense and unyielding heat to spill over you. She was meticulous in her movements, as she was with everything in life - a woman in control - slow, teasing you, but always hitting exactly where you needed it. .

“Mmph… th-thank you, my Lady.”

“Ah, but shouldn’t I be the one thanking you, my pet?”

She purred softly against the soft skin of your neck before licking over it - relishing in the deep shudder that spilled across you.

“For.. for what, my Lady?”

“Why, for being so utterly divine, my pet.”

You whimpered again at her praise, at the feeling of her strap filling you so completely - over and over again - as if she moved her hips to some unknown rhythm. Your fingernails clawing deeper into the smooth mahogany beneath you with each masterful thrust that she gave you. Moaning louder as the width of her hands found your hips, driving your backside firmly into her.

“No coming without my permission, pet.”

Alcina’s words alone were enough to compel the relentless fire in your core to ignite even further, willing a most delicious whimper to slip past your lips.

“Y-yes, my Lady.”

“And keep your eyes on me.”

“Mmph, fuck.. Yes, my Lady.”

Your voice was breathless - barely above a whisper as you did your best to return your gaze back to the mirror in front of you.

“That’s a good pet. Watch mommy as she wrecks you.”

The sultry tones to her voice, the slight growl that lay dormant just beneath, murmured huskily into your overly flushed skin. The soft skin of your cheeks - the fine lines of your face - every singular detail of your body steadily becoming blurred by the fierce blush that moved unhindered across it. The feeling of her large frame against your backside as her calculated thrusts remained at an achingly slow pace. Each one forcing juices to drip deliciously down your heated thighs. Her large hands encasing your hips and up to your sides, holding up your body like a lifeline. Half lidded eyes locked onto golden embers as the sheer power of Alcina continued to completely unravel you - slow and steady - a keen smirk curling across her devious lips as her fingers began to roam.

“That’s it, my pet. You are doing so well.”

A shudder of a breath, an absolute desperate moan cutting through the cool night air as the imposing girth of her fingers found your clit, circling it slowly. Her other hand at the small of your back, giving herself complete control of every movement you made. Quickening the pace of your hips - large, generous circles over your clit - willing you to cry out for her even more. Forcing you to whimper - to claw, shake, tremble with absolute need for more - for release. For anything that your Lady was willing to give you. Feeling your hips jerk into her as your peak became closer and closer to the edge.

“Ah.. mmh.. fuck.. I’m .. I’m close, my lady.”

A spin to your surroundings as the deep seated pleasure swiftly dropped from your body just as quickly as the warmth of Alcina’s fingers left your clit. Her strap completely still - teasing inside you - so desperate for release that you could feel your heartbeat clench around it.

‘Mmh.. such a good pet.”

She stroked over your hair affectionately, bringing a small kiss to your shoulder before nipping at it. Each mark that decorated your body connected like a singular lay line to her heart. Thumping loudly with each soft kiss that she gifted over them.

“Please… please, my lady..”

Sometimes you hated how weak she made you, how completely desperate she could get you to be - but in retrospect, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

She chuckled, pushing cool breath across your heated skin, “Always so needy for your Lady, hm?”

“Mmph-!”

The sound that left your lips was one of pure desire - of utter need. Wanting her to take your body as it was - to do everything that she had ever fantasized about - ever dreamed about. You squirmed against her without a moment of a thought, bucking your hips back as the need between your legs turned into a frenzied ache.. Swallowing hard as you watched the dangerous glint sweep over her eyes.

“Now, now… be patient, pet. You’ve been doing so well.”

She nipped at your shoulder blade hard, drawing beads of crimson swiftly into her eager mouth. Sucking indulgently as the width of her finger pressed firmly against your clit.. An exquisitely intoxicating mix of sensations as she put the trio into steady motion. Her experienced mouth drinking from you as if you were her last and final meal. Her finger generous against you as she circled it steadily over your aching clit. The strap that could easily destroy you, delivering nothing but the most delicious thrusts as she matched the three in perfect rhythm.

“Fuck.. I’m... “

“Always so vulgar.”

It was barely a murmur against feverish skin - a mutter of a whisper - as Alcina’s masterful hips quickened their pace. The width of her spilling over the back of you as she brought you to the edge of pleasure and back again. Denying you time and time again. Chuckling at every curse that slipped past your lips, smirking at every whimper and moan. Half lidded eyes locked onto hers as you obediently held her gaze.

“I can smell how desperate for release you are, my pet.”

A deep thrust to your swollen core, pulling an utterly desperate moan from your lips.

“Ah-! Please.. “

“Tell me badly you want it, pet. Use your words.”

“I need it.. ah.. so badly.. please.. Alcina…”

Her name skipped through your haze filled mind like a fever dream. Echoing against the strumming of your own heartbeat. The only thing able to cut through it was the deep and guttural growl that compelled itself out of Alcina’s body. Suns dissolving into slivers - a total eclipse of her eyes - dilating fully as large fingers wrapped firmly in your hair, pulling you straight back with an unyielding force. The length of you flush against her, every cell in your being set ablaze as she held your body in place. A sneer like smirk, a flutter of her eyelashes as Alcina swiftly brought her mouth to the crook of your neck, sinking the sharpness of her teeth deep into your soft skin. Growling louder as you moaned. Swift euphoria sweeping over you like a tidal wave - a current - an exquisite undertow as she pulled the crimson straight from your heated flesh - panting slightly as she pulled away.

“How easily I could drink you dry, pet. How quickly I could leave your body lifeless, right where you stand.”

She brought her teeth back into you harder this time, earning a sharp yelp to force its way past your lips. The width of her hands moving quickly - one to your throat and the other to your hips. A sublime heat as the sharp sting of her claws seeped ever so slightly into your flesh, causing you to whimper. The length of her tongue licking expertly over your wounds as she delivered a forceful and indulgent thrust to your core.

“And yet.. you fear me not.. do you, pet?”

“N-no, my lady… m-more...”

She tightened the grasp on your throat, forcing your gaze to her own. An almost primal look upon her face as the hand that held your hips in place moved indulgently to your clit, circling it once.

“Ah-! Please, Mistress!”

You knew you were playing with fire - knew that your words were tempting the beast inside - and you didn’t care. You relished in it. In knowing how easily she could destroy you - how swiftly she could break you - how wholly and completely she could make you hers. And you knew you should be scared, knew that the dangerous glint that now spilled relentless over the blacks of her eyes, was nothing but absolute in it’s warning.

“Oh, my pet… always so unsatisfied, hm?”

“Ah.. yes, my lady… please.”

“How absolutely divine you smell when you beg for me.” Her breath was stifling against you as she leaned in further. “Well… as you wish.”

You watched the tiny beads of crimson drip deliciously down your neck as she tightened her grasp a little more. An absolute predatory look to her eyes as she shifted her stance slightly, widening your legs for her even more. The tips of her barely extended claws teasing over your inner thigh before allowing the smoothness of them to ghost over your clit. You shuddered, dropping your gaze for less than a second before the strength of the fingers tightened once more - pulling your eyes immediately forward.

“That’s a good pet.”

You watched as the blush across your face grew even deeper. Watched as a deep seated pleasure sweeped over the fine lines of your face. As the juices began to flow steadily from your core. As the whites of your teeth found your flushed swollen lips. The length of her strap deep inside you as she started a strong and merciless rhythm. The fingers around your neck, firm - the ones on your clit, generous and indulgent. Both supremely arousing .. both pushing you closer and closer to the edge

Watching obediently as the first orgasm washed over you. A white hot pleasure spilling across the landscape of you - ripping your name from her lips like an prayer. The pace of her hips unyielding as she forced one orgasm on you after another. Each wave of pleasure more delicious than the last - crashing over you in ways that you didn’t even know possible. And you wondered how many times you had screamed her name. How many times she’d made you plead for more - begging for her not to have mercy on you. Her normally calculated movements becoming more frenzied in nature with each plea. A sheer primality rolling over her in steady waves as she drove her strap into you with unrelenting force. The sun already started it’s ascent into the dawn stricken sky by the time she was done with you. By the time she returned your breathless body back to the smooth mahogany below you. Her cool breath skating over your crimson skin as she whispered softly into your ear.

“Just one more time, my pet. Just come for mommy one more time.”

And you did, hard - harder than before - harder than ever. Full white out behind your eyes - the entire room spinning as her words skipped across you like a free wielding star. It was all consuming, enveloping you in a pleasure so thick that you were sure you felt your toes curl - your soul shake. Juices gushing from your core as Alcina’s strap pushed over and past the brink of pleasure one last time. Panting as your whole body shuddered. Your flushed face flat against the cooled wood of the vanity, your hitched breath only growing deeper.

‘You did so, so well, my pet.”

She purred the words into you, peppering soft kisses up the side of your neck - a soft smile against your skin as her lips found your temple.

“Mmh.. thank you, my lady,”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you, my pet?”

“Hm? For.. for what?”

“Why, for being so utterly diving, my pet.”

You chuckled at her on-going quip - letting the blissful haze swiftly pull you under, barely hearing the last words that she muttered against you.

"Rest up, my pet. I expect your tongue in me by breakfast."

#depravity answered #charlottepriestly on ao3 #resident evil village #resident evil #re8 village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #resident evil fanfic #fuck #im #djdksjskaaka #gayyyy #i hope you like it 😈

403 notes · View notes

jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

Your heart beats like wings

Written for the Teef Week Event in @thewitcherbog.

Ship: Gerlion

Rating: E

CW: Fae!Dandelion, biting (and drawing blood), mating bites (of sorts), wing kink, coming untouched, blow job,

Geralt had always known there was something not quite human about Dandelion. Whenever his golden-haired poet was near, the wolf’s head would hum quietly on his chest, a fact that Dandelion seemed to delight in. Whenever they shared a bed or curled up together on the forest floor, Dandelion’s long lutist fingers would wrap around the wolf, calloused fingertips tracing the fur on its ears and muzzle. But Geralt never asked, and Dandelion seemed content to keep the mystery a secret. Years passed, decades, maybe nearing a century, Ciri blooming into a beautiful young lady, zipping off through time and space, Yennefer still scouring the Continent for a way to take back what she believed was stolen from her, and Regis settling down in Toussaint with a fellow vampire, popping in to see Geralt and Dandelion on occasion.

No one seemed to notice that the seemingly human bard hadn’t aged a day over the cruel winters and burning summers that had passed.

Geralt noticed but he was scared, scared of losing the one constant in his life. If he asked, if he drew attention to it, the peace surrounding them might shatter and he’d be left alone, always waiting for his friends and family to arrive, isolated.

Dandelion hummed, tucking his hair behind his ears before leaning down to press a kiss to Geralt’s neck, sucking a bruise into the tender skin, his hips rolling over Geralt’s cock. Ever the poet, Dandelion murmured a steady stream of praise as he trailed his lips under the line of Geralt’s jaw, whispering rhymes and verses as he nibbled Geralt’s ear.

“What thoughts are rattling through that pretty little head of yours, my darling?” Dandelion asked as he sat up onto his heels, his fingers tracing patterns into Geralt’s chest, not dissimilar to the runes on his swords.

“Nothing to worry about,” Geralt muttered, pulling his husband into a kiss to finally silence him. The words melted into a soft moan as Dandelion’s lips parted easily under Geralt’s, elderflower wine still on his tongue, sweet, delicious, divine.

They kissed some more, lazy and slow, a simmering heat gradually building into something more insistent as Dandelion’s hands finally wrapped around Geralt’s cock.

“You’re lying to me,” Dandelion hummed, hand slick with oil even though Geralt never heard the cork pop. “Tell me, dearest, please.”

Geralt’s eyes fluttered closed, Dandelion’s fingers working magic along his hardening cock, making it difficult to think about anything else. “You,” he finally mumbled, “was thinking about you.”

Dandelion giggled, the sound making Geralt’s medallion vibrate a little more against his chest. “And what about me?” Dandelion asked, his voice ever musical and beautiful, one carefully trimmed nail running along Geralt’s cheek.

“You- you never age, Dandelion. Why?” Geralt asked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he finally voiced the question that had been haunting him for years.

The poet sighed, pressing his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck, fingers wrapped tightly around the wolf medallion. “I was wondering when you would ask, my dear witcher.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as Dandelion sat up, legs resting either side of Geralt’s waist. He continued to trace patterns into Geralt’s skin, until the quiet became almost unbearable, crushing Geralt under the enormity of its weight. The question became a burning sword, ready for Geralt to fall upon, the destruction of everything he held dear. Until, in a strangely vulnerable voice, Dandelion spoke once more.

“Promise not to hate me, Geralt, darling, please.” His voice cracked, shattering along with Geralt’s heart. They may have had their spats over the years but to hear that his husband doubted him so… it was unforgivable. He would spend the rest of their days together trying to make it up to Dandelion, until his husband truly believed how much Geralt loved him.

Geralt took one of Dandelion’s hands in his, placing a kiss to each knuckle before gently turning it over to kiss the palm. “You must think me mad,” Geralt reminded him, echoing words from so long ago, “if you think I could ever hate you.”

And still Dandelion remained silent, cornflower blue eyes locked on his, lacing their fingers together. “Even if I’m a monster?”

If it weren’t for the sincerity in Dandelion’s voice, Geralt would have assumed the poet was joking. How could his husband, kind and gentle Dandelion who threw up at the sight of blood, think he was a monster? The most vicious Dandelion ever got was when he was up against Valdo Marx in a bardic competition, but his old rival had passed many years ago.

“Even then.”

“Are you- are you sure?”

“Dandelion, speak,” Geralt said, squeezing the poet’s hand in his.

“Very well.”

But instead of speaking there was a sudden burst of magic in the room, Geralt’s medallion jumping off his chest, the teeth of the wolf almost snarling as it vibrated wildly. Dandelion’s features blurred and changed, his already sharp cheekbones becoming more angular, the fingers between Geralt’s lengthening, claw-like nails replacing neatly trimmed ones. When Dandelion opened his eyes once more, cornflower blue irises now glowed with slitted pupils not unlike Geralt’s, and when he smiled, Geralt saw a row of sharp teeth glistening between rosy pink lips. His golden ringlets parted to reveal two curled horns, but what really drew Geralt’s attention were the shimmering rainbow wings that unfurled from behind his husband’s back.

He was beautiful.

“Dandelion,” Geralt breathed, unable to think of any other word.

“Hello, Geralt.”

“You’re- you’re beautiful.”

Dandelion’s eyes fluttered shut, a serene expression gracing his lips, and the room seemed to glow from whatever magic the poet was weaving, his hair gently blowing in a breeze that Geralt couldn’t feel. Behind him, Dandelion’s wings beat slowly, catching off the candlelight and sending glittery sparkles of light cascading across the room. It was captivating, enchanting, alluring, and Geralt couldn’t take his eyes off his husband.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice distant to his own ears.

“Hmm, well, I rather think you should,” Dandelion giggled, leaning down to press their lips together.

Geralt’s fingers tentatively reached out to caress Dandelion’s wings, making the poet shudder, a soft gasp falling from his lips, the taste of wild flowers on his breath.

“Again…” Dandelion murmured, and so Geralt stroked along the seemingly fragile veins of the wings until his husband was a quivering mess on top of him, cock hard and leaking onto Geralt’s stomach. “Oh gods, Geralt.”

“I’ve got you, Dandelion,” Geralt hummed, his fingers digging into Dandelion’s thighs as they rutted together, Geralt’s cock aching between the curve of Dandelion’s arse.

“Julian,” Dandelion whispered. “My name is Julian.”

Geralt blinked up at his husband, cheeks flushed bright, the very picture of ethereal beauty. “Julian,” he repeated, “my flower.”

As the name fell from Geralt’s lips, a strange silver light whipped around his husband, connecting his heart to Geralt’s, and he cried out, lost in pleasure as he came, purely from the caresses to his wings. He collapsed forward, sharp teeth latching onto Geralt’s shoulder to muffle his cries. Geralt hissed in pain as the fangs sank into his skin, but the pain soon succumbed to pleasure and he thrust up against Dandelion’s arse, hands still exploring the colourful wings that were so alive beneath his fingers. Every touch tingled against his skin, hot and cold at the same time, magic in its rawest form, making Geralt feel dizzy.

Dandelion moaned, releasing Geralt’s shoulder for barely a second before kissing over the wound. His husband then wriggled from Geralt’s arms, kissing down Geralt’s body as he shuffled down the bed, each kiss was accompanied by a sharp bite until Geralt’s skin was a map of unfamiliar teeth marks, some bleeding, some not, Dandelion didn’t seem to care. Wherever his razor sharp teeth did break through Geralt’s skin, there was a thrum of magic, building and building inside of Geralt, until he could almost feel Dandelion’s heart beat right alongside his. Wings fluttered out behind Dandelion, now out of reach but still so captivating.

“My darling, my husband, my Geralt,” Dandelion murmured between kisses, gazing up at Geralt with glowing blue eyes as he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s hip.

“Yours, Julian,” Geralt agreed, threading his hands through Dandelion’s soft blond curls, knuckles bumping against the newly grown horns. Unlike the wings, Dandelion’s horns didn’t appear to be sensitive in the slightest, but Geralt was still intrigued. He gripped one of the horns in his hand, guiding his husband lower, moaning with every kiss and bite to his skin.

Dandelion giggled, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s inner thigh, “Patience, love.”

“You try my patience, poet.”

“And yet you insist I’m not a monster,” Dandelion sighed, sinking his teeth into Geralt’s thigh.

Fire blazed through Geralt’s veins, crackling electricity, even as Dandelion’s tongue lapped over the bite mark. He knew there was some magic at play, but it was a part of Dandelion, a part that had remained hidden for so long and finally, finally, Geralt had been allowed to see.

The trust that Dandelion- that Julian had in him was almost overwhelming.

Glowing eyes met his and Julian winked, eyelashes even longer and darker than before. That was all the warning Geralt got before his cock was enveloped in the wet heat of Julian’s mouth, the bard already moaning around his length. Geralt’s own moans harmonised with his husband as his head fell back against the pillow.

He had a feeling he would be in for a long night.

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire

#the witcher #geraskier #gerlion #fae!jaskier #fae!dandelion #non human jaskier #teef week #jaskier pankratz #geralt of rivia #wolfie's witcher writing

165 notes · View notes

keisurou · 3 years

Text

build it up

(ft. koutarou bokuto)

minors dni.

wc: 3.2k

Warnings: semi-public sex (in the locker room?), doggy style, mirror sex, mutual masturbation, blowjob, atsumu x kiyoomi ship, atsumu being a lil’ shit and drilling ideas into bo’s head, not edited.

So my friends and I were fangirling discussing and apparently personality-wise, I’m basically a mix of Akaashi and Kenma, and it kinda makes sense because my top two comfort characters are Kuroo and Bokuto. Anyways, this is just a lil’ thing I wanted to try out, and again, this is not edited (i did edit it, and then my laptop just DIED so now its all gone. *sobs*) - does anyone want to be a beta-reader?? Because I literally went on a road trip with my family and just typed this in the car the entire time while my brothers screamed nonsense bs next to me. Hmu if you’re actually interested :)

“Babe,” Bokuto murmurs into your neck, drawing out the word, his hair still damp and smoothed down from his shower not too long ago. You’re trying to focus on the pile of research assignments in front of you, but the way your fiance is rubbing circles on your back has you rereading the same sentence multiple times. “I heard something I wanna try,”

“Hmm?” You hum noncommittally, encouraging him to continue, but you don’t look away from the papers. He frowns, frustration clawing at his belly and lets out a small grunt as he paws at your thighs exposed by your silk pyjamas. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to him and run your fingers through his damp locks before ruffling them slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired? You have practice tomorrow morning, don’t you?”

He doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on your lips and the way your tongue peeks out ever so slightly to wet your bottom lip only for a second. Bokuto has been strung tight lately; he had just returned from a training camp after being away from you for an entire week. He had been so excited to come home to you; he missed your smiles, your soft agreements, the way you came apart and lost yourself under his touch. But instead, he came home to you fully decked out in your ‘no sex’ gear. That’s right, from the ten piles of papers you had to mark, and a brand new box of red felt tips, you were ready for five days of no sleep, no fun, and absolutely nothing frisky with Bokuto. Needless to say, he almost cried when he first stepped into the apartment.

But now, with only ten research papers left, you were practically finished. “Babe, let’s cuddle tonight,” You give him a look, and he deflates only a little before quickly adding, “I’ll be good, I swear,”

“Kou-kun,” you lean in and give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he’s so touch starved that he sits motionless, absorbing the way your lips brush against his skin for as long as he can. “You’re always good.” You move away, and he quickly grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “But if I finish up here today, I won’t be able to see you play tomorrow,”

He’s silent as he contemplates this and then promptly hooks a hand around your waist and pulls you to him. His lips slant over yours, and it only takes you a second to melt into the kiss, hands flying to the hem of his t-shirt to drag him closer. Your lips are warm, and he can taste the sweetness of cherries from the dizzying brush of your tongue. He leans back against the sofa, and you clamber onto his lap, your softness meeting the hard planes of his body as you kiss along the smooth column of his neck. There is nothing sexier than the way you press a kiss before nibbling along his jaw, and his hands automatically find their way under your sleep shirt to squeeze at a naked breast.

You let out a strangled moan and immediately press your body to his chest, halting his movements. Bokuto’s eyes widen as he tentatively brushes a thumb on the underside of your breast, only for you to shudder. “Koutarou, wait,” you pant softly, grabbing at his arm to pull it from your chest. “I’m really sensitive today, and it hurts if you squeeze too roughly,”

“Why?”

“I’m on my period,” you say simply, and he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head.

“So, no sex?”

You shake your head, and his erection throbs painfully in his shorts as it strains against the material, somehow understanding the situation but not exactly cooperating. You get up to clear the table, and when you stretch, he can clearly see the way your nipples poke through the flimsy fabric, almost as if begging for his attention. He’s up, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in the scent of your hair. “Can I massage them?”

You pause, and when you don’t respond for a few seconds, he cups one breast through the shirt, palming it softly until you melt under his touch. “O-Okay, but no sex,”

He murmurs out a thank you, his golden eyes sparkling, and he’s glad you don’t question his enthusiasm. Once in the shared bedroom, he strips your shirt off your body watches with hooded eyes as you crawl over to join him at the centre of the bed.

His fingers brush against a peaked nipple before slowly pushing down on the nub, and you let out a soft whine before cupping your other breast yourself, rotating the flesh in small circles.

Bokuto briefly wonders how long it could take to make you cum just from your tits, and he turns it into a personal mission for tonight. He pulls at the free nipple, and you gasp sharply. Your reaction brings a lazy grin on his face, and he brings you to sit on top of him, the outline of his erection pressing against your ass so he can feel at least some sort of friction. He swats your hand away and pulls a nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling the flesh softly as your thighs tremble around his waist. The first contact of his teeth against your sensitive nipple has your breath hitching deliciously as you chant his name, and he does it again, wanting to commit the sound to memory.

“K-Koutarou, please. I’m going to-”

He switches to the other breast and bites down on the nipple without warning. Your hands fly to the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest as he soothes the abused skin with long strokes of his tongue. The way you pull at his hair sends sharp jolts of pain, and you realise that each time you tug at his locks, he puts his teeth to work.

You tug at his hair again, and he smiles as he bites down for a second. He takes satisfaction in the way you tremble and grind against him when he tugs at a hardened bud with his fingers, twisting and rolling the nub until it borders on pain and pleasure. He’s going to make you come like this even if he doesn’t get any sleep.

Minutes later, you tremble, your hands feebly pushing at Bokuto, and he leans back only slightly. He watches with wide eyes as you roll your hips, the movements unstable and shaky, almost frenzied. Your fingers squeeze at a breast and pull at the tip of the other, and you let out a breathy moan at the sharp streak of pain that quickly turns into pleasure. “K-Kou-kun. I’m s-so close. So close.” You whine out in both pleasure and frustration and reach for his hands so he can help you finish the job. “Please,”

You don’t notice the way Bokuto’s erection grows bigger from under you. He loves it when you beg for him like this, eyes glazed with lust without a care in the world except for how quickly you’ll come. It’s so intoxicating, and you look so desperate that he can’t help but want to tease you until you’re ruined. But tonight, there was no way; you wouldn’t be getting any help from him until he gets off on the image of you sobbing for his fingers and his tongue.

He watches as your eyes widen when you see him take out his cock and grip himself at the base. The tip is red and weeping, and when he smears the fluid all over the head, he’s delighted to see the way you lick your lips and lean forward, entranced. “What is it, puppy?” He purrs and grips himself at the base before moving up to the tip and coming back down again. The way your eyes follow the movement is incredibly sexy, but it’s the tremble in your lower lip that has him growing harder. “F-Fuck. Shit, you want my cock? I thought you said no sex.”

There’s a whine of frustration, and at this point, he can’t tell if it’s from you or him, but the way you rub your thighs together and tug at your nipples has him lifting his hips, craving the friction he can’t have. There are now tears in your eyes as you sniffle. For a fleeting moment, Bokuto considers sliding your underwear to the side; your period be damned, and fucking you into the mattress until the bedsheet is soaked with your tears. His cock twitches in agreement at the mental image, and a shudder goes down his spine.

Instead, he gives himself a few more rough strokes and closes his eyes, listening to your moans echo in the room before he groans, loud and low, as his release lands messily on the bedsheets.

Bokuto is restless at practice the morning after, and everyone knows this because his performance was downright terrible. On the rare occasions when he did score a point, there was no hey, hey, hey, no burst of confidence, no nothing.

There had been days on end where the team would have done anything short of murder to shut Bokuto up, but now that he had, they had no idea what to do. Well, except Atsumu, of course. The setter sauntered over, his lips stretched into a cocky smirk. “Bokkun, what are ya mopin’ about for? Did yer girlfriend leave ya all needy?”

Bokuto grumbled sourly at the blonde before promptly turning away. “I’m not moping.” And when Atsumu raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, Bokuto only sighs and leans back on his elbows. Surprisingly, that’s all the setter needs to understand the situation and begins to laugh.

The entire situation is infuriatingly unfair, especially since it was, in fact, Atsumu who had drilled in the idea of having sex in semi-public places. Bokuto usually didn’t care to listen to the gossip of others much, unless it was related to volleyball or you. During the training camp, the blond setter had been describing how hot it was to do it in a semi-public place where there was a high chance of getting caught, much to Kiyoomi’s chagrin. Bokuto genuinely cannot bring himself to care because obviously sex feels good all the time, so why would doing it outside make it any different? Atsumu had just tutted when Bokuto explained this to him before asking him about you, and that definitely got his attention.

“Bokkun, do ya know what kinks yer girlfriend has?”

“She doesn’t have any,” Bokuto’s response had been immediate, and Atsumu just stared, wondering if the hyperactive male was just pulling his leg. But he wasn’t - Bokuto genuinely knew you didn’t have any because of course you would tell him as soon as you discovered one, right?

“She seriously never told ya?”

“Maybe she just doesn’t know.”

Atsumu had spluttered indignantly to his excuse, equal parts horrified and insulted that Bokuto could even think about suggesting such a thing.

Needless to say, ever since then, Bokuto has been trying to find out more of the things that make you tick in bed. He’d already found two last night, and his body was already tense, eager to find out more today. Especially since you said you’d be visiting after handing back all the papers to your students. They all wrapped up practice, with Meian giving Bokuto extra laps around the gym. By the time he had finished the required amount, Hinata and Meian were about to leave but had stopped to greet you for a few minutes. The sight of you leaning against the door, your lips pulled up into a soft smile filled him with restless energy and he took a swig of his water before making his way to you.

“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice booms, echoing off the walls and you swivel around to grin at him. There is a collective sigh of relief from the other members as they leave the court gym and he sees the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He practically sprints to you and pulls you into a bear hug. He knows he’s sweating and that he probably stinks, but that all takes a back seat as your arms come around to wrap around his waist as you breathe in the feel of him. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod and lean up, puckering your lips to give him a short kiss, and his heart squeezes before he leans down to meet your lips halfway. When you pull back, your face is flushed, and you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m all better today, we can go wherever you want and do whatever you feel like,”

His golden eyes glint dangerously under the low lighting of the hall, and you immediately know that you’re in trouble. “Now?”

He can see the way your breath hitches and throat constricts as you let out a little whimper. Your voice reaches a higher octave as you whisper out a “Now?” and he suddenly wishes that he could drag you to the locker room in front of everyone. He realises with a start that Atsumu had been right all along and expects the fact to rub him the wrong way, but the thought is pushed to the back as you let out a timid nod.

That’s all he needs. He drags you into the locker room, too impatient to bother with the intricacies of the lock. Everyone had gone home anyway, so what did it even matter? As soon as he sits down, you push his thighs apart and situation yourself between them. Your hands fly to the hem of his gym shorts as you gaze up at him, and the whisper of friction that your fingers provide already has his cock swelling in his boxers.

The first contact your tongue made with his cock has him hardening even further as he sinks his fingers into your hair. He can’t take his eyes off the way your hot tongue glides up the curve of his dick before swirling around the tip and-

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait, baby-Don’t-”

You take him into your mouth, one hand softly massaging his balls, and all the protests die in his throat almost instantly. He chokes at the sight of you on your knees and your pretty, pretty mouth stretched around his fat cock. There are tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him in any further, and there’s nothing in the word that could make him look away. He thrusts his hips up only slightly, taking you off guard and forcing more of his length into your mouth as you gag around his size.

You make a sound at the back of your throat as you drool around his cock, and it sends waves of vibrations throughout his length. Bokuto eases out of your mouth, and the stark coldness that hits the sensitive skin has him hardening even further. “You did so good, puppy,” he pants out his praise and comes up behind you before he pushes you forward so that you’re on your hands and knees. You’re such a pretty sight that he has to stop himself from entering you straight away. “Are you comfortable, babe? Think you can take it like this?”

You nod vigorously and hold his gaze through the mirror. The head of his cock is leaking and angry, and he’s half tempted to bury himself balls deep inside you without warning. But the moment he pushes the tip inside your wet heat, you arch your back, and his hips jerked forward, craving the way your slick walls spammed around his length.

“S-Shit—” Bokuto grits out, relishing the way the unmistakable sound of your arousal squelching around his cock echoes in the locker room. “God, you’re so fucking messy- baby, I can’t—” his words end on a whine and tries to push himself further inside you, his hands going to grip your hair to wrap it around his fingers.

There’s a low guttural moan from you, and when he looks up, his gut clenches at the sight of your thoroughly fucked face. He wants to commit it all to memory - the way your tongue lolls out while your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out for him because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this. He pulls at your hair slightly and immediately feels you clench around him.

He does it again, harder.

Your whimpers thunder in his ears, and he leans forward until he has you completely underneath him, chest grazing the back of your shoulders as he braces his entire weight on his arm. His tongue and teeth are relentless on the flushed tips of your ear, laving the sensitive skin before nipping it harshly as he thrusts into you. “You’re such a pretty puppy, aren’t you? Fucked dumb and drooling on my cock,”

You sob at this, your words slurring. “K-Kou, s’close—” His thrusts become short and fast, reaching deeper as your walls dragging along his cock deliciously. The way you’re needy heat is sucking him in leaves him breathless, his hips stuttering with effort as he struggles to go faster and faster and—

Your walls flutter around his girth, clenching down and squeezing so tightly that he can’t help but arch his back, hands gripping your hips to bring you closer, the curve of your ass flush against his abs. He ruts into you harshly, trying to fuck you through your orgasm, and it’s the loud slapping of skin on skin that mixes perfectly with your lewd keens that have his dick spasming and finally sends him over the edge.

For a moment, all he can hear are the heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, skin slick and glistening with sweat, but then his ears perk up at the telltale whisper of footsteps shuffling. Somewhere, right outside the door, a broomstick topples over something, and he swears he can hear the hushed bickering of Atsumu and Kiyoomi.

Thank you for reading :)

Taglist: @lukehemmingsfan101 @the-actual-audrey @Dontmindme:) @potaytopothato @jadasz @momoraen (those in bold could not be tagged).

Click here for my taglist. If you would like to stop being on my taglist, please just send me a message.

#bokuto koutarou #bokuto #bokuto x you #bokuto x reader #bokuto x female #koutarou bokuto #bokuto smut #hq smut #hq x you #hq x reader #hq bokuto #haikyu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x you #hq x female reader

343 notes · View notes

americxn · 3 years

Text

“What happened? What the hell happened. Why do you make it so hard to love you?”

Kai Anderson x GN!Reader

This is definitely not good enough to enter, but I used the prompt from @tatesimper anniversary writing competition so I guess this is my entry? (fig, I’m so sorry for butchering such a good prompt lmao)

also, I realised when writing it that this could serve as a prologue to this fic:

https://americxn.tumblr.com/post/652835852669648896/paranoia

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: genocide/murder mention, swearing (this is based off episode 11 of season 7)

The night air was cool on your exposed face as you took the front steps to the door of Kai’s house, not bothering to knock as you pushed it open, the warmth and light from within spilling onto the smooth concrete of the front step and pooling around your feet; having been in a committed relationship with Kai from a year and a half now, this house was practically your own. Stepping past the front porch after abandoning your shoes and jacket, you entered the uncharacteristic quiet of the house, scanning the hallway for any signs of life, usually abundant within these walls in the form of Kai’s blue shirt-clad, blindly deferential followers.

“Okay. A little bad news to start,” your body instinctively angled towards the voice, distinctly Kai, that sounded through the empty hall from the back room. You set off down the hallway, his voice growing in volume as you approached, somewhat confused. He hadn’t notified you of a scheduled cult meeting that evening and yet his tone of voice was threaded with the assertive cadence that he utilised only when addressing his followers. “It turns out finding a thousand pregnant women to murder is super hard. No one will ever accuse me of lacking ambition.” He continued as you reached the threshold to the large room at the back of the house that served as a secondary living room; breath catching in your throat, you halted, your hand reaching for the wood of the doorframe to steady yourself as the meaning of his words settled into you. To murder? “So, Night of a Thousand Tates is off.” A ripple of groans and dejected sighs rose from the small sea of men at Kai’s words, quickly falling silent to allow him to continue. “But, Night of One Hundred Tates is on.” His words sent a wave of prickly dread spider walking down your spine; he hadn’t told you about any of this. Killing a thousand pregnant women? You wanted to stride into the room with a bright laugh to wave away his abhorrent words and demand for the real reason that he had called a meeting. But you knew. A terrible, truth filled part of you was all too aware that he was deadly serious A chorus of thrilled cheers drifted up from the small crowd in twisted elation with the newly revealed knowledge that their hands would still be stained with blood by the end of the night. Your breath became too loud in your ears, your mouth turning utterly dry as you examined your suddenly empty mind for a solution to Kai’s monstrous plan that you could use to convince him to call it off. But you came up short, taking a small step back into the safety of the dimly lit hall, your back coming to press against the wall beside the open doorway to ensure that nobody would be able to see you eavesdropping from within. This was too far. Kai had done many questionable, twisted things over the past year but this... this was too far. You were full of self hatred for the amount of things that you had stood aside for and let Kai go ahead with, but not this. You refused to take so much of an ounce of accountability for this. Pulling your phone from the confines of your back pocket, you drew in a shuddering, grounding breath, your thumb working on the keypad. The digit shook as it pressed onto the screen, your teeth catching between your lower lip as your gaze flicked from the brightness of the device’s screen to the open doorway at your side. The sequence of 911 you had typed glared up at you, bathing the underside of your jaw in artificial light as you craned your neck, leaning forwards slightly to peer into the room. Kai stood by the far wall, his men arranged in a neat group before him, all sitting straight backed to attention on their chairs. Just behind Kai, displayed on the low table pushed against the wall were two silicone models of a woman’s torso, ripe with the swell of a baby within; one was positioned to the side as a cross sectional diagram, the other facing straight on, the small model of a baby in the third trimester curled up within the artificial uterus. Your attention snapped back to Kai as he took a step forwards to address the group. “Look under your chairs, I’ve handed each of you a unique list of targets, all ready to pop.” Your stomach twisted in horrified disbelief as the men all shifted in unison, pleasure curling the corners of their lips upwards as they read the names of the people they were soon to mercilessly slaughter. You watched with teary eyes as an impressively built, stocky man who you didn’t know the name of slowly lifted his hand to the ceiling, Kai’s eyes immediately flicking to him in agitation. “You raise your hand one more fucking time and I will cut it off.” The powerfully built man visibly shrunk down into his chair at Kai’s hissed statement of reproval but timidly uttered his question of “how do we know they’re all pregnant?” Kai’s eyes flashed in impatient annoyance as he tore his eyes off the man, flicking them briefly up to the ceiling before deigning to answer. “Because Gutterball pulled the rosters of four ob-gyns, two Lamaze classes and a Momtra Yoga over on Main. Great job, Gutterball.” The blond man who went by Gutterball, sat on the front row of chairs close to Kai, beamed in self-gratified delight at Kai’s gracious recognition, lifting a fist into the air in triumph. Kai smiled proudly down at him before turning to address the group as a whole once more. Your eyes flicked down to the bright screen of your phone, the numbers displayed there beckoning. Your thumb twitched, a conflicted frown creasing your forehead as Kai continued on, pulling your attention back to him. “Manson’s family - I admire them, but they did get a little sloppy.” You watched on in nauseating alarm as Kai pulled a large blade from the black sheath at his hip with a flourish, the metal glinting in the light of the room. “Their message got lost in their mess. What we are doing requires more precision. It is imperative that both mother and child are impaled. Don’t fuck this up.” He scanned the gathering before him, gaze as sharp as the knife clutched in his grip before turning to the models behind him. “Aim for the belly button but stab in a downward motion. If you stab straight,” in one fluid motion, he had buried the curved tip of the blade in the portion of the fake uterus just above the baby’s head with a solid thunk, “you miss the baby - and our entire message is lost.” Withdrawing the knife, he turned back to address his cult, the weapon hanging loosely from his fingertips by his thigh. “Tomorrow night, when your blades tear open one hundred pregnant bellies, you will be releasing a power into the universe. Detonating a neutron bomb of truth, blood and amniotic fluid. You will be galvanising an army.” “With their sisters gutted, women everywhere will be forced to react. They can’t ignore an injustice this brutal. They’ll have to rise up, and in their collective rage, they will train it on Senator Jackson, on all incumbents, on any of the people in power who failed to keep us safe. As the most vulnerable are slaughtered, as the pregnant bodies pile up on Senator Jack-off’s watch, we will be surfing an electoral bloodbath straight to Capitol Hill. And then… the White House.” The collection of cult members all voiced their assent in a chorus of whoops and ovated cheers, a nauseating sense of unease dragging it’s claws up the length of your spine. You turned away with hot tears blurring your vision, not wanting to hear more, your phone a heavy weight in your hand and the decision it presented even heavier.

Sat on the edge of Kai’s large bed, your knee couldn’t cease it’s anxious bouncing, your lower lip chewed raw by your teeth. The door swung open suddenly, sending your heart leaping into your throat. Kai stepped into the room, the small smile stretching across his lips broadening as he beheld you perched on the mattress’ edge. “Hey, when did you get here?” He questioned, reaching to tug you to your feet and wrap his arms tightly around you in a warm embrace. “I only got here like five minutes ago.” Your lie was muffled into the thin shirt at his shoulder, his hands splayed flat on your upper back as he held you close to him. Withdrawing yourself from his grasp, you frantically scanned his face, heart sinking at the pleasure dimly glowing in the depths of his dark eyes, pleasure fuelled not by your sudden appearance, but in anticipation of the merciless slaughter that he would be carrying out in mere hours time. “What?” He asked curiously, his head tilting slightly in concern as his smile faded, caught in the grave despondency of the stare you had him pinned under. His tape-wrapped hands settled on his shoulders; shaking him off, you stepped away, your chest bubbling with emotion that was dangerously close to spilling over. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, forcing the tears that threatened to flow to stay at bay. Groaning through clenched teeth, colourful sparks flashing through your blocked vision from the force with which you pressed your hands into your eyes, you blindly felt Kai’s warmth as he stepped forwards to comfort you. Dropping your hands, you retreated another step, Kai stilling at the look of stangled confliction latching onto your features. “What happened?” Voice breaking, you brought a hand up to press against your forehead, icy panic unfurling in your gut amongst the turmoil of roiling distress flooding through your insides. Kai looked utterly lost, his eyes boring into yours as he searched for an answer to the question that he couldn’t understand. “What the fuck happened to you, Kai?” His heart splintered at the raw anguish in your choked, lamenting tone, automatically taking a step towards you, wanting nothing more than to smother the emotions swarming your features. “I used to be so, so happy with you.” His lips parted in disbelief as you continued. “I would’ve done anything for you.” You couldn’t help the tears that spilled over, your voice pushing past the quivering of your lower lip and growing in strength, your breaths turning sharp and rasping as they were sucked in between your passionate words. “Y/n…” He didn’t know what to say as he watched you struggle to keep a grasp on coherency. “I don’t know what happened to him. To the Kai that I fell in love with. But he’s gone now. He’s gone and I don’t know how to get him back.” Sorrow gave way to desolate fury as you plowed on, your jaw clenching as you stepped towards him to deliver a harsh shove to his hard shoulders. Kai fell utterly silent, stumbling back slightly under your touch, unnerved and unsure by the eruption of messily confessed words that spilled from you, seemingly out of nowhere. “Answer me.” You demanded gruffly, shoving at his solid frame once more. “I… y/n, I don’t know-” With a third shove, his eyes flashed in agitated warning, silently daring you to repeat the action a fourth time. You did, shoving at him with as much force as you could muster, breathing hard when he took ahold of your wrists, pulling you to him and pouring his branding stare onto you. “Stop.” Your face was flushed, plump tears cutting through your face and dripping from your chin as you plowed on. “What happened, Kai?” His nostrils flared, eyes wide in confusion as he battled to grasp onto your thoughts, to make coherence of the biting words falling from your lips. “What happened? What the hell happened. Why do you make it so hard to love you?” Your ragged breaths filled the sudden silence in the room, the roaring silence infiltrating Kai’s head drowning out all other sense as he stared down at you in cold disbelief, your eyes wild and face screwed with festering ardour, raw and demanding, your lashes damp with bitter tears. A symphony of surprised shouts echoed up the stairs from the ground floor of the house, Kai’s attention snapping to the door at his back and eyes flooding with sharp panic. He released his hold on you as the cries from below grew in volume, laced with alarm. A single gun shot rang out and it was your turn to take ahold of Kai, the tape wrapped tightly around his wrists warm under your fingers. His head whirled back to you, his eyes alight with uneasy confusion, his gaze frosting over. Bringing your face closer to his, you laid a single, lingering kiss to his lips, your own wet against him. “I’m sorry.” You said quietly, several heavy sets of footsteps sounding from behind the door as they thundered up the stairs. Kai’s eyes frantically searched yours as he pulled against your unrelenting grasp, his gaze briefly parting from yours to snap to the door as the sequence of footsteps and shouts grew louder. “But I can’t let you do this.” His throat bobbed, his eyes widening in terror as the reality of the situation settled over him. “I sentence you to rot.” Tugging at his wrists, you forced your face closer to his before muttering to him, your breath hot on his face and the recognition of your betrayal manifesting in the cold fire smoldering in his gaze: “Just like how my love for you has turned to rot.” His face contorted in rage as the bedroom door was forced open, the panel of wood swinging open and hitting the adjacent wall with a bang, several armed policemen flooding into the room. You loosened your grip on his wrists, stepping away as two of the men took ahold of Kai by the back of his shirt, twisting his arms behind his back. He shrieked in rage, straining to turn his head towards his assailants as they began to pull him from the room. Sinking down onto the edge of the bed, you locked eyes with Kai’s as he turned back to you, cool rage simmering in his dark gaze, his lip curled into an enraged snarl. He pinned you with his stare, not even bothering to fight against the men holding him as he was pulled from the room, a savage promise glittering in his unrelenting stare. A promise of vengeance. Of suffering.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt @mossybank @tatesimper (dm to be added or removed <3)

162 notes · View notes

corabbit · 3 years

Note

Friendly Giant Au (Ocean Edition)

So basically, the scene where Puffy gets thrown off of her boat when feeding Foolish some of the meat (I vaguely remember you writing something for that). Foolish does end up catching her and the rest of the meat in his mouth, and since the food is pretty small compared to the normal food he catches, he just swallows everything whole, Puffy included.

Thankfully, Foolish has two stomachs linked together, one leading to the other, so Puffy doesn't get sent to the acidic stomach as soon as she travels down. The first stomach is empty, while the second is the actual stomach.

So as soon as he feels some sort of squirming from his first stomach, he realizes what happened with a sense of horror.

("If he had lungs, he would have taken a shuddering inhale of air as he felt something collide against his first stomach's wall, over and over. He vaguely registers himself searching the waters around him, along with the deck above of any sign of Puffy. Gods, please don't be what he dreaded. He saw no sign of her, and his attention all but shot back to the struggling pre- fuck off, instincts- Puffy's squirming figure.")

That horror is nothing compared to what Puffy is going through at that moment. She's practically hyperventilating at that moment, her thoughts speeding by, faster than the speed of light.

("Fuck, fuck, fuck- She struggled against the tugging muscles in vain as it coerced her panicked body down, the strong flesh unaware and uncaring for her terror. Would he even notice she was in here? By Primes, she was going to die, wasn't she?")

He immediately tries to calm the sailor down, spitting her back out with a heaving chest, and he's quick to drop her back onto the ship and ask if she's okay. Puffy... well, Puffy needs a break from seeing Foolish's sharp, brandishing teeth, and the leviathan is more than okay with letting her have some distance- he, too, needing some time alone.

Oogh,,, I'm currently way too tired to think coherently so oop,,,

If I still have the energy tomorrow, I might send my Giant House Au thing too chhdxkcvkfjx

Stay hydrated and don't be like me, forcing myself to stay awake just a tad longer to write /Lh

Notes: WEND MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED I ADORE THIS!!! Your writing is amazing as always and I love how you write the characters :] pls take my love 💙

The Aftermath

Foolish watched from below the water’s edge as a small ship pushed its way steadily across the water. Soft waves pushed it back and forth, but there was nothing he needed to worry about. His people were safe. And more importantly his person was safe.

At least safer than she was with him.

His fins lashed out in frustration as he watched the vessel float along clumsily. If he squinted enough he swore he could just barely make out the shadowy form of the captain at the head of the ship.

At the sight his heart ached to swim to the surface. He wanted to see her smile and talk to her like they always did. He ached for their late night conversations and to feel her curl up in his hand as he floated around; aselfish part of him demanded that he do just that.

But he’d hurt her.

He’d really hurt her.

And he enjoyed it.

As much as he wanted to convince himself he wasn’t the monster he was supposed to be, in the moment he had basked in the feeling of something warm, something struggling, inside of him. Even though it was his dearest friend a primal part of him had been delighted by the idea of live prey. That part could barely stand to let her go.

Foolish shook his head quickly, the sharp slap of water against his skin broke through the primal urge to consume that was slowly clawing its way to the front of his brain.

He couldn’t think like that.

He would keep Puffy safe no matter what. Even if it meant keeping her safe from himself.

#tw vore #Wendy ask #corywrites #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #friendly giant noms #g!foolish #t!puffy #TES WEND THANK YOU

67 notes · View notes

dr3amofagame · 3 years

Text

so... the red banquet, huh?

im not going to lie, i was cheering on the eggpire the entire time (/lh) - what can i say, something abt the demon possessed resident evil crew just speaks to my heart. theyre FUN, ok?

anyway, a lot of people were theorizing abt what c!dream showing up at the banquet could look like - and, well, i thought i’d write my version of it. this takes place in the “guard dog au” developed primarily by a gc im in on twitter (@stabbysideblog being the main originator of it, do check sunny out !!) - the basic premise is post-getting the revive book from c!dream, c!quackity continues to get his, uh, “use” out of him by basically treating him as a bodyguard/guard dog as he goes around the server - which should probably give you a pretty good idea of how this is going to go :]

tws: death, grief, implied torture, starvation, abuse, blood, murder, unhealthy relationship, dehumanization, possession, trauma, mental illness, violence, dark content, dark imagery, emotional distress, mental instability, pandora’s vault/prison arc, c!quackity critical (not really, but a very dark portrayal of him)

A strangled sob claws its way up Puffy’s throat as she watches Foolish fall.

He drops in a spray of golden ichor in the crimson, brilliant green eyes trained on hers, jaw slack in horror, pain, dipping to the ground and whiting out before he’s even fully collapsed. The others’ screams hardly even meet her ears; all she can see is her son, falling, her son, dying, her son, that same sunlit kindness still held in the curve of his lips in this room that knows nothing but pain and betrayal, gone gone gone gone-

Because of her.

Ant’s still staring at her, pupils thinned to needles from the brightness of the lava at their backs, ears alert but stance entirely calm as he twirls his sword, still dripping gold. His mouth is moving but she cannot hear anything above the ring ring ringing in her ears, the world swirling and blurring dangerously from the tears gathering in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, Ant’s eyes polished rubies where there had once been a cloudless sky. Bad gestures at the crowd, pushed back towards the lava’s fire in their fear, leaving her to stand in the middle of the room as one desperate dying scream, the egg, standing as a silent witness to it all-

“Bad-” a flash of blue, and there’s someone standing in front of her, shoulders pulled back, a diamond sword glittering their right hand, “Stop it.”

“Quackity.”’

Bad snarls, tail whipping back and forth; Puffy takes a step back, then another, shoulders still shaking in grief for her son, for her friends, for everyone who’s about to lose their lives in this twisted realm of crimson and hellfire. There is no fear on Quackity’s face though he stands unarmored, and for the first time in this awful day something like worry flashes over Bad’s face. There’s history here, she realizes - what did Bad say about Quackity attacking? - but none of this is making sense, not the self-assured way Quackity is carrying himself, wings relaxed and folded at his back, not the simmering unease making itself known in the foreign cadence of Bad’s voice.

“Oh my gosh, look at what you’ve done,” Quackity says, voice almost patronizing, like a parent stumbling in on the mess their child has made out of their bedroom, “this is impressive, I’m not going to lie, this is quite impressive.” Puffy swallows thickly, hears the shuddering gasp of someone behind her - Fundy, probably, or Sam - as Quackity’s voice drops. “You have to stop right now.”

“Stop?”

“This whole Egg thing is just getting out of control - you just killed a man,” Quackity stalks across the netherbrick floor like he has all the time in the world, ignoring the crossbows that the Eggpire has trained on his back, guarded only by the off-white shirt he’s wearing, an untied tie hanging limply around his neck. She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth - my son, they killed my son, she means to say, but the words stick to the walls of her throat and only escape her lungs in another series of wracking sobs. “Is that what you wanted to do, Bad?”

He laughs - laughs, of all things, and there is something here that Puffy is missing, that isn’t clicking through the muddied fog of grief hanging grey and suffocating around her head, but Quackity is speaking again and she can’t think about it all, not now, “-and I’m not gonna have it anymore, Bad.”

He slips over by the crowd, eyes glancing all of them huddled in one fearful mob over the tables, eyes dark and daring and cold; the Eggpire keeps their eyes trained on him, Bad’s eyebrows furrowed, Ant’s muzzle twisted in a snarl. Puffy watches, their words passing over her like water skidding against the surface of a rock splitting a stream in two, heart thudding in her ears, marking out the heartsick beats in this poisoned melody - one-two, her-son, her-son, her-son-

He stops in front of her in the middle of monologuing, eyes trained on her own like he’s trying to tell her something. His eyes flick down and she follows their gaze to his other hand, the one not clasped around a sword handle, watches as he gestures vaguely in the direction of the Eggpire. She frowns, confusion cutting through the grief - what is he trying to say? - and Quackity sighs, index finger slashing in the air in the shape of what might be an A as he spins on his heel to walk back towards Bad and the others.

“So how about we just stop playing?”

Quackity smiles, teeth white and glittering from the lava’s glow even as the Eggpire surrounds him, pushes him back against the wall. Bad seems to hesitate, hand clasped around the trigger of a crossbow he keeps pointed at the other’s head; when he speaks, he almost sounds mournful.

“I can’t,” he mutters, quiet, stepping forwards as his shoulders straighten, pushing Quackity back in a motion that the others are quick to follow. Puffy watches, an awful sinking feeling falling through the hole left in her chest by the sight of her son, falling, her son, dead - watches as Quackity’s wings open, shine golden in the lava’s light - what is he planning?

“You know why I can’t stop.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh through his lungs, “Bad- you and all your buddies here, drop your weapons, and leave. Let all of these people go.”

“Or what?” Ant’s voice is sharp, but Quackity barely pays him a second thought, swinging a glare at his head and cutting him off.

“I’m not talking to you,” he laughs, dismissive, “I’m talking to Bad.”

“No-” Puffy watches as Bad’s hand tightens on his crossbow, punctuating the word with a step forward. “You put your weapon down. If you wanted to stop us?” He’s too close to Quackity for Puffy to make out either of their faces, crossbow bolt aimed and ready to send straight through his skull. She stiffens, sees from the corner of her eye as the ones beside her look away, and resigns herself to the inevitable spray of blood on brick - not again not again don’t make me watch again - “You should’ve brought more than just yourself.”

Quackity laughs.

“I did,” his voice is dangerous in its levity, making Bad, then the rest of the Eggpire step back as his wings spread open further, watching with bated breath and wide eyes as a swarm of white descends from a hidden hole in the wall, “Or, well, I did the next best thing. I brought my worst enemy.”

“What?”

“Alright Quackity, where’s this Egg thing?”

Technoblade jumps down into the room in a familiar purple-black blur of expertly enchanted netherite armor, form impeccable despite the seeming exhaustion in his voice. At his feet, a pack of wolves gather, pace, muscles coiled and clearly ready to strike; he rolls his shoulders back, signature fireworks loaded into his crossbow, and the crowd behind Puffy immediately breaks into shocked murmuring and soft cheers.

On Quackity’s other side, someone else flips into the room, wearing a suit of all things, crisp and well-pressed; Purpled grins, entirely too gleeful as the Eggpire presses back further, held off by the dogs swarming and growling at their feet.

“Purpled- we hired you!”

“To be frank with you, Bad, a sword appears in Purpled’s hand and he flips it casually, blade thin and gleaming, “Quackity just had the better price.”

“We- we still outnumber you!” Bad’s voice is a near-scream in its desperation, his tail lashing back and forth as he shifts his weight forward, “It’s four against three- we’ll still win-” Despite herself, Puffy’s mind spins; either way, they’re still at a disadvantage from sheer numbers alone, never mind Quackity’s lack of armor. Maybe if they all work together, they’ll be able to sufficiently stop them, but there’s no way she can see this ending in anything less than a bloodbath-

“I didn’t want for it to come to this, Bad,” Quackity’s voice drops low and sweet, the sincerity in his tone belied by his glittering eyes and jagged grin. The shift in tone sends a shiver down her back, has even his allies shifting uncomfortably in what seems to be confusion - Puffy catches something like a murmured no from Sam, behind her, before Quackity whistles, loud.

It all happens too fast for her to follow; one moment, the Eggpire is standing, weapons raised and ready to fight; the next, and there is a new netherite-clad figure in the middle of the room, signature sparks of purple from a pearl still glittering around them, axe buried into Antfrost’s chest. The room devolves into shrieks as his body dissolves, Bad gasping sharply and something dark bubbling in Puffy’s chest - good - as the newcomer in the room moves over to Ponk, bloodstained axe swinging in a downward arc, only barely stopped in time by a diamond sword catching on the crook of the blade.

“Go!” Quackity’s voice rings out above the chaos, and Techno and Purpled - seemingly shaken from their shock - fly into motion, fireworks bursting in flashes of red and black that send Puffy blinking out stars from her eyes, Purpled moving to match blows against Hannah and Techno’s army biting at the ankles of the Eggpire leader. Around her, people scream in relief, cheering as the Eggpire, clad in eggshell-blue, are pushed back one by one, hindered by a shifting wave of teeth and claws and clashing blades and netherite moving smoothly over the uneven floor - Bad screams, “RETREAT!”, and they disappear into the wall.

Purpled curses; “I’m going after them.” Puffy watches, still reeling, as he dives into the corridor that Bad had revealed, a flash of purple and blue melting into the shadows; the mystery figure - still hauling a heavy, bloodstained axe, nearly dragging against the floor - moves forward as to follow.

Quackity snaps his fingers, and the figure stops, turns, immediately moving to the winged man’s side. Behind her, Puffy can make out cheers, gasping, hysterical sounds of relief; she can’t join them, feels nothing but the shuddering weight of her grief pressing further on her lungs as the adrenaline fades, head dizzy with Foolish’ sharp gasp in pain, Ant’s yowl of agony. Her eyes flick to the side, catch on Sam pacing, muttering under his breath; when his eyes meet hers, they widen in something like - alarm?

She shakes her head; she can’t think about all of that, right now. Her hooves stumble over the vines and rot strewn over the floor, carrying her forward to the glitter of gold on red, to where her son had fallen and she could do no more but watch with a scream caught between her teeth.

A hand lands on her shoulder- “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it in time.”

She whirls around; Quackity’s looking down at her, face twisted in sympathy. Behind him, the armored stranger looms, hair long and tangled, helmet keeping their face in shadow and hiding their features from view. There’s something distantly familiar to them, in the way they shift from one foot to the other, something that makes her eyes narrow and throat tighten-

“Who are you?” The words tumble from her mouth, making Quackity freeze, jaw snapping shut, the figure behind him tensing almost imperceptibly under their armor. “Who-”

Quackity’s eyes are dark, piercing; she can’t read them, the flat line of his mouth as confusing as it is frustrating. His eyes flick up to somewhere over her shoulder before moving back to her own

“How rude of me,” He smiles, gold tooth glinting, “I didn’t even introduce our special guest.”

His right wing presses against their back, and they drop, immediately, to their knees, making her step back in shock. Quackity’s hand slips easily under the edge of their helmet, ripping it off with little care and letting their hair fall in a wave of dusty browns over their face; he pulls the strands back roughly, revealing the paleness to their skin, the hollows in their cheeks-

“Dream?”

Her breath shudders in her chest, eyes snapping up to Quackity, still smiling, hand still pressed against the back of his skull. Dream’s face is pale, thin, clawed with new scars that highlight the jut of his cheekbones and the dullness of his eyes. He looks up at her, eyes glassy, skin almost grey, and for a moment she’s looking at Foolish, eyes unseeing in death, the luster of his skin stolen like the air from his lungs, and she nearly screams.

“Puffy, Puffy,” Quackity murmurs, almost kind, “It’s alright, see? Everything’s fine now.”

“He- he’s supposed to be in prison,” she hisses, not missing how he flinches, not missing how even that is hindered by the hand braced against his head. He looks strangely small kneeling at Quackity’s side, dwarfed by the netherite he’s wearing; even with an axe strapped to his back, the blade still wet with crimson and reeking of iron and decay, he hardly looks like the villain that had terrorized the server, the son she could no longer recognize in the midst of the bridges he burned.

“Oh- don’t worry about him,” Quackity shrugs, wings fluttering, “It’s all being done with the Warden’s permission, Puffy, I know what I’m doing.” As if to prove his point, his hand tightens on the other’s hair, tugging his head back by the roots; Dream hardly even reacts, simply letting himself be manhandled, throat bare and exposed to the air, similarly criss-crossed by scars. “He’s perfectly well-behaved now, you see?”

Her throat closes, the pit in her gut torn open by the sight of her son with a blade skewered through his heart only growing wider, hungrier, by the dullness in the eyes of the other. Foolish’ death had happened too fast for her to react: one moment, he was staring at her, eyes mournful in goodbye; the next, he was a tumble of gold and green and blue against the floor, half of his name still not having left her lips. Dream’s head swivels to hers, face entirely blank; there is nothing quick written in the gauntness of his face, more scar tissue than skin, in the shadows under his eyes or how they seem to stare, unseeing, in the long, knotted strands of hair twisted over Quackity’s knuckles. He looks like he’s been dying, slowly, for months, and the screaming cry of YOU FAILED ringing in her head in Ant’s voice only grows louder.

“What did you-” the words scrape roughly against the inside of her mouth, “What did you do?”

Quackity shrugs, letting go, and Dream’s head tips forward to stare at the floor. “What had to be done.”

He clicks his fingers again, and Dream stands, falling behind Quackity with his shoulders pulled up to his ears. Quackity hands him back his helmet, keeping his hand stretched out, palm up, even after Dream takes the netherite and fastens it back over his head. Puffy watches, heart stuck in her throat, as Dream fiddles with something by his throat, pulls out a thick coil of iron chains, pressing the end to Quackity’s outstretched hand - the other side, she realizes, fastened around his neck.

Her breath stutters when he looks back at Quackity, gut roiling at the familiarity - it’s an imperfect copy of the way he used to look at her, a skittish shadow at her tail, all awkward smiles and fidgeting hands. Only now, his eyes don’t dance with the same light, his lungs shivering in fear instead of wheezing laughter; she watches as his head follows Quackity like he’s the only person in the room, a duckling imprinted on the nearest person and ready to follow to the ends of the world and further, and her heart shatters all over again.

“Anyway,” Quackity’s eyes soften, lips curled in sympathy, “My condolences, Puffy, for your son. It really is a tragedy.”

She watches him leave with tears in her eyes, a sob once again caught in her throat. The images overlap - Foolish, smiling under the sun’s glow, sitting on the roof of his summer home - Dream, grinning in the treetops, eyes as green as the leaves surrounding him - Foolish, falling in a spray of ichor and a gasp of pain, Dream, grey-eyed and silent, dead as the crimson rot surrounding his beaten body-

My condolences for your son, Quackity’s words echo in her skull, and not for the first time, she laughs miserably, tears falling from her eyes.

Which one?

203 notes · View notes

corruptedconfessions · 3 years

Note

I am sliding in to request some yandere incubus Kirishima 👀. Maybe dubcon with a bit of a resistant darling who he coaxes and persuades into fucking him. Maybe uses incubus powers to have her be more willing and overstimulates her like crazy. Go as wild as you want, I don’t mind 👀

A full month and 5.3k words later...it is finished. From now on if anyone wants an example of my writing at its best (and most selfishly self indulgent) I shall send them this fic.

Warnings for this one: Dub con, drugging (kinda? magical drugging), some violence/blood mention, Delusional Yan Kiri at its finest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was still as he hovered outside of your window, peering inside carefully. You were normally asleep by this time…The redhead practically vibrated with excitement as he slipped his claws under your window, slowly pushing it up. He had broken the lock several months ago when he had first caught your scent, peering through your window and finding you in the midst of a wet dream, desperately rubbing your thighs together in your sleep as you gasped. You were just so tempting he couldn’t help himself from slipping inside and eating you up~

You had been so beautiful that night, arched out under the moonlight gasping and twitching around him. Every meal before you suddenly felt so lacking. He may have gotten a little…over excited and watched with guilt as you struggled to get through the next day, completely exhausted after how much he had fed off of you. Even despite the guilt he felt, he couldn’t help but feel a deep yearning towards you, the desire to take even more.

He had never felt the urge to eat the same meal twice before you. Yet he found himself returning to you night after night, every time hunger pains shot through him, whenever he felt his own magic and energy starting to fade yours was the first face that popped into his mind. He had tried to go to other food sources but they always felt…lacking. Bland and unseasoned, their noises and fluids did nothing to excite him the way yours did. He was left full and energized, fed to the brim after desperately taking and feeding on his new virgin meals, but it always left him antsy and unsatisfied, haunted by the memory of your scent, your taste, just you.

It had gotten to the point where he was…touching himself. Masturbating! At the thought of you! The shame was so deep he had wanted to rip off his wings and tail, ashamed that a high class Incubus like him would become so desperate over some random little human that he would lower himself to self pleasure was…horrifying to say the least.

He took a deep shuddering breath just at the memory of those dark times as he glided further into your room, letting your scent surround him as he purred softly. Your scent already had the stress from those memories melting away, leaving him feeling fuzzy and relaxed, as it should! His mate should calm him~

Mate…just the thought of the word had him warm and giddy inside. It had taken him weeks to realize what all the feelings he had meant, you smelling and tasting so good, he was left unable to feed properly. He almost felt ashamed that he had made you wait so long before he realized! Oh, he hoped you would forgive him! What was he thinking, of course, you would! The two of you were destined for each other of course!

Oh, it was so exciting! You would be only his to hold, his to touch! Your small, fragile mortal body would curl up against his, warm and soft against him, arching and nuzzling into his touches like a good little girl~ He would sweep you up into his arms, being praised as your manly hero as he takes you away from your pathetic human world! No one would be able to stop him or deny him of his claim.

He would kill them if they tried.

His hand was trembling slightly with excitement as he reached out towards your bed, pulling your blankets aside as he crawled into the bed, inhaling deeply as he let your scent wrap around him.

Oh…He was so giddy thinking of all the things he could do with you now! He had always dreamed of having his own little mate to call his~ Someone made to please him, to love him, to be with him. Every inch of you from your head all the way down to the tips of your toes was built to be perfect for him~ Would you feel the same about him? Already he ached for you, ached for your touch, as many Incubi did when they found their mates, but you were human. Still, he liked to think that you were just as drawn to him as he was to you.

He could already picture it, you looking up at him, teary eyed and sleepy, begging for him to crawl into your bed, wrap you up in his arms and wings and hold you so you could sleep. You would beg for him so prettily, whimpering that you can’t sleep without him. He would wrap you up tight in his arms, carry you to the bed and ravish you until you couldn’t stay awake anymore~ He gasped softly nuzzling your pillow, breathing in hard as he purred softly. How would he do it?

Maybe he’d bury himself between your thighs, lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt, drinking your juices and working you through orgasm after orgasm until you have no choice but to pass out from the pleasure. Or maybe he’d stuff you full of his cock, rocking slowly up into you, drinking up every noise of pleasure as he makes love to you; tenderly bringing you to completion as you stayed limp and submissive under him, falling asleep while still rolling in the pleasure he gave you.

You would be so good for him wouldn’t you? Let him take you over and over, let him please you and bring you to the heights of pleasure. You would never touch another ever again…too desperate and needy for him, so perfect for…

He moaned low and deep, his hand dragging over his dick that was straining hard against his loose fitting pants. Every nerve in his body felt on edge, even just the brushing of fabric against his skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire body. Fuck…He needed you so bad.

He couldn’t stop the small unmanly whimper that came from him as he tugged his pants down just enough for his member to pop out, the cold air hitting it leaving him shuttering hard. His teeth ached, begging to sink into your sensitive skin, to claim you, mark you up as his. He had never felt like this felt so…desperate.

It was addicting.

You did this to him…made him feel. Something he had always chased, desperate for the escape from the apathy that came with his cursed existence, doomed to forever chase the hunger and high of feeding off the pleasure of those who could feel. Yet here you were giving it to him freely. It was so addicting, to have all these feelings, towards you!!

He could never go back to the way it was before. He wouldn’t let it go back. He would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, who tried to take this away…

He groaned, his entire body trembling all the way down to the tip of his tail as he slowly wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping it in his clawed hand. He could already imagine stuffing you full, coating you inside and out with his cum, claiming you so good no one would ever even question who you belonged to.

Oh, he couldn’t wait any longer! He wanted so badly to be inside you, cock nestled between your walls, your cunt squeezing down around him as his mouth and hands dragged over your soft skin. Already he could picture his claiming mark painted on your skin…

Something was nagging at him, an itch deep in the back of his brain as he swiped his thumb over his cock, huffing your scent as he pressed his face deeper into your pillow. He was missing something but he was too drunk on your scent, too focused on the build to his release to pay attention to the alarm bells blaring in his brain.

At least until he heard the bedroom door creak open followed by a frightened shriek.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!”

He panicked, flailing as he spun around and sat up at the same time, staring at you wide eyed. Fuck! He had gotten so caught up in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized you weren’t in the bed, which meant you clearly weren’t asleep.

“I-I um, oh man I didn’t mean for you to meet me like this…”

You stared at him in confusion, eyes slowly dragging down until they locked onto his member, hard and leaking against his stomach. Your face immediately flushed hot, a startled squeak coming from you. Despite his panic as he tumbled out of your bed, clawed feet hitting your floor with loud clicks that just seemed to frighten you even more. He couldn't help the curl of amusement that swirled in his gut over the fact that you had immediately averted your eyes. Humans were always such silly things, so shy about sex and bits. Incubi were much more…open. Something you were going to have to get used to since he had no plans on hiding his dick away from his mate. Hell, the only reason he wore pants is because he thought they looked hella manly and cool! Like those famous actors from human movies! But now that he had a mate, he couldn’t imagine having something stopping him from just immediately taking you whenever and wherever he wanted, even if it was only for a second.

“Don’t be mad! I know im a bit late but I promise I’ll make it up to you~”

He calmed himself, grinning at you as he held his arms out as if asking for a hug as he advanced on you. You found yourself stumbling back as you stared at him in horror. He looked like something straight out of a horror movie, skin dark and reddened like blood, blackened horns jutting out and twisting around his head grotesquely, with every move the skin stretched over them almost seemed to pulse slightly as his slitted eyes roamed your body with a shamelessly large grin. Disgust and fear curled in your stomach as jagged sharp teeth were revealed to you, tapering off into sharp points just like the claws that spurted from his hands and feet. You could see a tail sway behind him, brushing the bottoms of large stretched out wings that were already curling towards you, stretching out as you stumbled back.

What…was he? For the briefest of moments you had thought it was the man from your dreams, warm and handsome as he fucked you, stuffed you full and left you shaking and crying for more. Every night you dreamt of him you woke up feeling sore but sated, your entire body aching but feeling so warm, the flashes of red hair and a bright smile still behind your eyelids. Warm moans and sweet praises still echoing faintly in your ears. This…thing in front of you was far from him.

“Stay the fuck away from me!”

You spun around, grabbing the door frame as you tensed, trying to run. Run where though? To the phone? Out the door? Should you scream for help? Who would believe you if you told them this this…demon was in your house, jerking off in your bed?

You had just barely made it out the door, feet sliding across the wood floor and nearly tripping you up when he moved too. In a flash he was through the door, behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the floor. You hadn’t even seen him move from his spot standing next to your bed.

“Let go of me! You sick fuck! Pervert! Help!”

You screamed kicking and flailing in his arms as he easily held you up off the floor. You tried elbowing his head, biting, scratching, hitting him in any way you could with your back pressed tightly against his chest and strong arms restraining you by your waist. He just laughed brightly as you hit him, any strikes just bouncing off his hard skin as he turned around to walk you back to your room.

“Feisty! I like that!”

Rage filled your chest when he laughed at your attempts to free yourself. He was left unaffected while you were left throbbing in pain, every hit feeling like you were trying to punch a boulder. It was hopeless attacking him, it was clear he was stronger than you. So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You grabbed onto the door frame as he walked through, clutching it hard enough it hurt, refusing to let go even when he tugged you lightly. The bright grin that had been plastered on his face faded slightly, and you took that victory and clung to it, clutching the door frame tighter.

”Come on, don’t be like that. I know you want to play hard to get but I don’t want to hurt you. Look, you’re hurting yourself. Let go.”

You clung tighter, ignoring the rough wood digging into your palms hard enough that you were sure you would have slivers and cuts when you did let go. You didn’t care.

“Hard to get?! I'm not playing anything! Let go of me!”

You twisted trying to kick him again, lips curling into a snarl as he sighed at you. He shifted you in his hold, one arm unwinding from your waist just to hook under your thighs as he stepped closer, holding you firmer against his chest.

“You’re just nervous~ Don’t worry, Im sure any mortal would be, you probably don’t understand it completely yet, do you?~ I’ll help you relax~”

Understand what? Did the man have some sort of delusional fantasy about you? Anxiety filled you as you squirmed in the new grip as best as you could, trying to shove him away without letting go of your deathgrip on your door. You opened your mouth to snap at him, argue even more, kick and scream, anything so he would let go of you when a sweet scent started pouring off of the beast. You were breathing hard, both from the yelling and fighting, you got a large lungful of the smell before you could even register it was there.

The effects were immediate. Your head spun hard, hard enough you had to squeeze your eyes closed to stop the way the room suddenly spun hard, your entire body instantly falling limp in his arms.

“There you go~ Much better…”

You forced your eyes open again once everything stopped spinning so hard, staring up at the demon holding you with wide confused eyes. What did he do to you? He had shifted you so he was cradling you bridal style, you reached up to push at his chest, to push him away. You tried at least, your movements were slow, your body feeling weak. You pressed your hands against his chest, but you couldn’t find the strength to shove at him, to resist the jolts of pleasure that shocked you when you touched him.

“Easy there~ You might rile me up even more.”

You felt your face grow hot as he grinned down at you, ripping your hands away from his chest through pure will alone. Your cheeks burned even hotter when he chuckled down at you, sitting down on your bed and turning to settle you down in his lap.

You shook hard as he wound his tail around your waist, tugging you until you were in a position he liked, large hands pressing against your stomach and sliding down your thighs, exploring your body, your skin in a way that felt so familiar…like he had done it before. You felt painfully aware of how his chiseled chest felt pressed against your back, how in this position, with your legs spread wide to try and straddle his thick thighs you could feel his hard on brushing up against your panties. You could feel your tummy flip as your cunt twitched, clenching down on nothing with every brush against your clothed heat.

“Please don’t hurt me…”

You were panting hard, desperate panicked breaths just proving to intoxicate you further, the sweet scent pouring off of him twisting around your senses and filling your head up. Every breath you took drained more of your fight out of you, panic and fear slowly being replaced with something…warm. Something sweet. You couldn’t bring yourself to push him away or thrash and fight like you were before. You felt disconnected from your body, willing it to move but you couldn’t manage more than the weak twitches of your fingertips and toes. You wanted to jump, pull away, do anything. Shamefully you noticed you were getting wet, soaking through your panties as your entire body tingled, arousal coiling tight in your gut.

“Oh, no, no, sweetie~ I’d never hurt you…Well, not unless you wanted me to.”

He grinned down at you, sharp and dangerous, his jagged teeth glinting under the moonlight that poured in from the open window.

You were panting hard, every weak gasp for air just proving to drunken you even further as you breathed in his scent, unable to stop yourself from slumping against his body. You trembled mewling weakly as his claws trailed down your skin, even just the soft scrape of his claws against your skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to your throbbing cunt. You jolted against his chest when his fingers finally pressed flat against your abdomen, claws easily hooking under your panties, hand sliding in to cup your privates fully.

“Good girl~ So wet for me~”

You trembled in his arms, flushing bright red when his hand was quickly coated in your fluids, hyperaware of the feeling of it slowly dripping out of your throbbing sex. You were painfully focused on his touch as his middle finger dipped between your lips, rubbing at your clit and entrance all at once, smirking as you jolted hard, a loud startled moan bubbling from your chest before you could stop it. You shuttered in his arms, whimpering as you arched back against him as he kept moving, rubbing at you as a deep growl vibrated through his chest.

“That’s it~ Good girl~”

You gasped, keening softly as he pulled his hand out of your underwear, making sure to drag his finger across your clit the entire way. Immediately his hands hooked under your bare thighs, smearing your juices across your skin as he lifted you up.

“Let's get you out of these~”

He purred as he maneuvered you, easily holding you up with one hand as he dipped one clawed finger under the band of your panties, easily shredding through the fabric and tossing it to the side. You gasped whimpering as cold air finally hit your heated flesh. God...it felt like you were burning up. You could feel wetness dripping out of you, coating your thighs and dripping down onto his cock. You wanted to feel shame, fear, but your thoughts were too fuzzy, too consumed by the overwhelming lust that filled your entire body.

“Now you’re getting into it, such a good girl~ My good little mate...Fuck you’re so soaked for me~”

You shivered moaning softly at his deep voice in your ear as he picked you up yet again, moving you until you were face down on the bed, hips propped up so he could grind his swollen cock against your dripping cunt. You found yourself drooling into your mattress as you desperately tried to rock back against his cock with your limited mobility. Fuck...you just...needed. You whined high and loud, frustrated as he chuckled down at you, his claws brushing down your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he cooed down at you.

“Be patient. I’ll give you what you need...”

The sweet smell got even stronger as he leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back, cock rubbing between his thighs as his hands moved up to cup your breasts. You found yourself melting into the touch, panting and mewling weakly as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, claws leaving shallow scratches across your skin. Even that felt good…

“Such a good mate! Look at you, so gorgeous...I could eat you forever, you know~”

He purred nipping at your ear as he drank up your sweet pleasured cries, rocking his hips between yours as he thrust blindly between your thighs. Low grunts and groans were panted out right in your ear as he rut against your pussy, blindly searching for your entrance.

“Gonna fill you up so good...fill you full of my seed. Make you mine!”

He growled his cock bumping against your hole, nudging against it before sliding past. Growling again he slowly pulled back, keeping his hands around your stomach as he lined himself up before thrusting into you. Claws pricked at your stomach, drawing small beads of blood as he forced you to take him all the way to the base in one thrust.

You cried out, trembling hard as you clamped down around his cock as he stuffed you full. Your brain was telling you it should hurt, you shouldn’t’ve been able to take him like that, but all you could think about was the waves of pleasure rolling through you as you moaned. It was like you were molded to his cock, made to take him, made to be filled like this. The overwhelming feeling of wholeness made your head spin as pleasure danced along your spine.

“You feel so good around me, baby~ I knew you were made to take me like this...that very first time your pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock, I knew I loved you.”

He gushed eagerly, voice rough in your ear as he rambled between moans, rocking his hips inside of you. First time…? What did he mean by-

You didn’t have time to register that fully, let alone ask him. He pulled out, cock dragging against your walls as you twitched and clenched around him before immediately thrusting back in, leaving you arching back against his chest, crying out for him.

“You’re so tight~ It’s like you never want to let me go~ You must love me a whole lot, don’t you, baby?”

He growled happily in your ear as he started a rough and brutal pace, hips slapping against yours, the force of each thrust hard enough you found yourself jolting forward, only held in place by the iron grip he had around your stomach.

He fucked you like he was making a claim, the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him with every thrust filling the room along with his grunts and growls and your desperate pleasured cries. All you could do was hold on, your hands balled into fists as you clung to the sheets below you as waves of pleasure rolled over you, unable to think of anything but Kirishima. Every breath you took was his scent, all you could feel was his cock thrusting deep inside of you, his chest pressed against yours, the way he was kissing and nipping at your jaw.

You didn’t even realize he had never told you his name, the very one you were whimpering.

“Look, baby~ I'm right here.”

You could feel the toothy grin against the back of your neck as a large hand pressed against your stomach, pushing hard enough you could feel every single thrust all the more. You sobbed in pleasure torn between grabbing his hand and ripping it away from your stomach and pushing it harder against it. Anything to keep the pleasure dancing behind your eyes.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, long enough that your throat felt raw, that your neck and shoulders ached with the bruises and marks he had left behind. Your nipples felt rubbed raw and sensitive. Everything blurred together, you were left limp and submissive in the demon’s arms, as he fucked you, snarling into the back of your neck. Compliments and praises were still raining down on you but they rolled off of you before you could even begin to process them. All you could think about was that heat coiling in your belly, you wanted to cum so badly. You whimpered desperately clenching down around him as you bucked your hips backwards, trembling hard when he snarled, thrusting his hips back inside you hard enough you actually found yourself sliding forward.

“Shit, I’m close, baby...Are you going to cum with me?”

His voice was warped, deep and gravely, sounding harsher, darker than before. It wasn’t a voice that any human could ever hope to have. Still you whined high in your throat, nodding desperately, anything! You just wanted to cum so bad! Every time you got close, teased with that release it danced away from you, denying you of it. Not this time.

You nearly sobbed in pleasure as he started thrusting harder, hips stuttering as his cock pulsed hard inside of you. It only took one...two...three thrusts before he was roaring, the sound loud enough it vibrated through your body, your ears ringing as he came. He kept thrusting as he spilled inside of you, cum spilling out your hole around his cock and flooding down your thighs. He kept thrusting hard inside of you until he grabbed your hips with both hands, yanking you back onto his cock as he thrust as deep as he could. You seized up, screaming as you came, vision whiting out as you spasmed around his cock, drool spilling down your chin as your eyes rolled back. Wave after wave flooded through you, leaving you shaking and sobbing through the pleasure, immediately falling limp like a marionette with its strings cut the second it started to fade. You could hear his and your heavy breaths filling the otherwise silent room, feel the cum dripping down your thighs and pooling around your knees.

He waited until you both had caught your breaths, still shaking and sweaty against each other's bodies before he suddenly lunged down, teeth sinking into your shoulder. You screamed in agony as sharp fangs sunk into your skin, tearing through your flesh. The grip around you tightened as he held you still, slurping and lapping at the blood that flowed heavily from the wound.

You dropped to the mattress the second he pulled away, hanging limply in his hold as he slowly set you down. It felt like your very life had been sucked out of you, leaving you weak and confused, unable to navigate the maze of your own mind through the fog of pleasure and lust and now pain that had filled it. Black crept around the edges of your vision as everything started to blur together. Your eyes felt so heavy...

“Hey...None of that now. Not yet.”

You whined low in your throat as he grabbed your hair, making your neck arch back as you blearily blinked up at him, your shoulder throbbed hard, protesting the new position as it pulsed in pain, blood oozing out of the wound slowly. Your vision was reduced to shadows and movements, watching as the blurry outline of the demon sank his fangs into his own thumb, pulling away darker. The same dark blur that covered his fangs dripped slowly down his hand. He slowly lowered it to your lips, thumb slipping into your mouth. You tried to cringe back as a heavy metallic taste filled your mouth, but the hand entangled in your hair prevented you from moving an inch. Instinctively you swallowed down the fluid that flooded your mouth, cringing even more as it coated your throat uncomfortably and filled your senses. You cried out pitifully around his thumb even as you suckled on it, wanting to squirm away but unable to find the energy to do so.

“Shhh~ I know. You’re okay.”

His thumb slipped from your mouth, hand letting go of your hair, finally letting you fall limply to your mattress. Relief filled your body as you finally relaxed, aching from head to toe, faintly you could still feel your pussy throbbing with every beat of your heart. Your eyes slid closed, fully believing the hell that you had just been put through was over.

Of course you were wrong.

It started small, a soft tingling in your back, slight warmth that you ignored due to the overwhelming heat of the demon still draped over you. You could still feel his gaze boring into you, waiting. You ignored him, pressing your face harder against the mattress below you, determined to either stay there until he left or you suffocated.

At least until your back started burning. The subtle heat from before was gone, replaced with an inferno tearing apart your lower back, burning through your muscles and skin. Faintly you could hear agonized screaming somewhere far away, it took you a moment to realize that that was you screaming. You couldn’t focus on it, though, the pain leaving your mind floating as tears streamed down your face, chest heaving for air.

And then...his voice cut through it all. Deep and rumbling through your ear it was like a soothing balm across the flames that were eating you alive.

“Shh~ Just accept it, baby~ Don’t fight it. I know it hurts, just relax...It’ll be over soon~”

Your whimpers were muffled as he leaned back, claws dragging slowly across your lower back. You screamed again, agony shooting through you as he touched them, pain hitting your consciousness like a bus. You twisted in place as best you could, weakly trying to turn around to swat away at his touch, only to freeze at what you saw.

The demon's face was twisted into a menacing grin, eyes practically glowing with delight as his claws dragged down your back, pain rocking you to your core. All you could see was a vague black shape on your back, similar to the one that covered the demon’s arm. Everything was too blurry to make out the details, pain and darkness made the edges of your vision fuzzy.

“You’re finally all mine~”

His voice was soft, warm, filled with so much joy and happiness it didn’t fit him, it didn’t fit the situation you were in. Your ears were ringing, stomach clenching hard. You felt like you were going to throw up. The darkness that had been creeping along the edges of your vision started spreading.

The last thing you saw was pointed sharp teeth grinning down at you, tracing over your mark with a dark possessive glint to his eye.

You were finally all his.

#yandere #kirishima x reader #reader insert #fantasyau #incubus

737 notes · View notes

k-s-morgan · 3 years

Text

Those Gentle Slopes: Snippet 1

A part of interrogation scene from Sebastian’s POV! Warning for graphic violence because possessive Sebastian is one angry demon))

As soon as he stepped inside, the entertainment ceased. Screeches, shrieks, and laughter died down in a split second, with dozens of eyes of different hellish colours fixating on him. There was a stirring of unease and curiosity before most demons with lower ranks bowed hastily and took on their human appearance — a sign of respect to the shape he was currently wearing.

“Sebastian,” Gaap greeted him, grimacing at the human name that instinctively fell off his tongue. He didn’t bother to change how he looked like. “This is a surprise. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

A slow dark smile twisted his lips, baring his sharp teeth. It widened when half of the demons stiffened. Several took a wary step back.

“I’m looking for someone,” he said. Despite the fact that his vocal chords belonged to a human, his voice was a low, demonic hiss. “Perhaps for one amongst you.”

More unease. The stink of fear filled the air, tickling his nostrils and making his lips twitch hungrily.

“I see,” even Gaap appeared wary now, although unlike others, he was more puzzled than scared. “And what criteria will help us to narrow this search down?”

“Having a death wish would be the first clue,” Sebastian took several steps towards the gathering, absorbing the varying expressions of worry and terror. He hadn’t involved himself in such meetings for several decades, so it was no wonder his appearance was causing such a turmoil. It was hard to get on his bad side — for the most part, he simply didn’t care enough. But this? This insult couldn’t stand. The boy was his, and if he had to tear several throats out to make the point stick, he would be pleased to comply.

“What happened, Sebastian?” Gremory asked. She remained in her demon form like Gaap, and like him, she smelled disturbed.

“I’m aware that one of the demons tried to disrupt my contract,” Sebastian said. As soon as the words were out, the rage returned with a doubled force, tearing through his body and stripping it of its human contours. Raw power seeped through his skin, heavy and oppressive, making the majority recoil from him. “I want the name.”

There was silence. And more silence. And then Raum laughed hesitantly.

“Are you serious?” he asked. “You deigned to come down to hell itself over your contract? You hate this place. What’s so important that—”

Sebastian was by his side before he finished speaking. His hand plunged into the soft chest, clenching around the shadowy iciness there and jerking it outside.

Raum screamed. His shape thrashed in Sebastian’s grip, and as soon as he collapsed onto the floor, Sebastian stepped on his throat, digging a hole in it with his heel to make sure it would be unable to produce any sounds.

“Remember your place,” he said mildly. Raum convulsed, trying to drag his half-broken shape away from him, but Sebastian was already losing interest. Someone this pitiful and weak would not risk his ire willingly. He had to look for someone with a higher rank.

As if sensing his thoughts, Gremory shook her head.

“Kings, dukes, and other princes would not do it,” she said. “Marquises are more likely. How about Claude? You know he— oh,” Gremory frowned. “So he’s taken a contract already.”

“He was the first I looked into,” Sebastian agreed. After his threats, Claude had been his first guess, but the moment he tried to speak his true name, he sensed the change to a human one. Claude had his own master to work on, he wouldn’t have time for anyone else.

Silence dwelled once again. The more it went on, the brighter his anger burned. It was a separate being now, a clawed and vicious monster that begged to be released. The mere idea of the boy summoning someone of Sebastian’s nature, speaking with them, making deals with them breathed fire into his very core, and if he didn’t find his answer, he would incinerate this whole place, the consequences be damned.

“One of you talked to my Master,” Sebastian said. Now his words were rougher, wrapped in the promise of destruction. “I want to know who it was. I won’t ask again.”

No one replied. No one stepped forwards.

Predictable. Yet foolish.

With a small effort, Sebastian turned off most of his human sides, concentrating on his demonic senses.

All demons smelled disturbed. The majority smelled scared. His fellow princes smelled concerned.

One demon smelled guilty.

Every part of Sebastian zeroed in on this specific mass of darkness. It was Phenex — boring, obedient Phenex with his ridiculous dreams of heaven.

He wouldn’t have been among Sebastian’s first choices, but his senses didn’t lie. This creature smelled rotten from guilt.

Phenex must have understood what his stare meant because his eyes widened in panic.

“It’s not me!” he cried out. “I wouldn’t do that, it’s against our law! I have—”

Sebastian didn’t let him finish. Whatever disease the boy had infected him with was progressing swiftly, sending a roar of mine, mine, mine through his blood, so he bared his teeth and lunged at Phenex, tearing into him with his claws.

For a while, it was a blur. As a marquise, Phenex was strong, but he was nowhere near Sebastian’s capabilities, especially not when he was in such a state. The need to kill, to disembowel, to carve into every part of this unworthy competitor’s body and stuff it with liquid silver was pushing him forwards, making him feed on the powers he usually kept dormant.

“It’s not me!” Phenex screamed again. He was bleeding shadows from everywhere, his body shaking from shock and pain. “Everyone knows that you aren’t right in the head about— that you deem this contract important! No one would risk it! I’d never risk it!”

Sebastian growled. Now that he could imagine this specific face speaking to the boy, luring him in, urging him to form a new contract…

A new haze of fire and rage engulfed him. Sebastian grabbed Phenex by his shuddering throat with one hand and thrust his claws into his right eye socket, breathing in the howl of agony that followed.

“Ciel Phantomhive is mine,” he whispered. “If you think I’m done with you after you tried to take him from me… I’m just getting started.”

“I didn’t do it!” Phenex shrieked. He tried to push at him with his hand, but Sebastian took this chance to snap it in half. “Stop it! Stop, I didn’t do it! I’m not interested in your contract!”

Sebastian smiled, and Phenex went grey, just like the smoke he was leaking.

“Who in their right mind would even want your contract?!” he screamed desperately. “That boy is an abomination! There is nothing alluring about his soul at all! Only you would— no! Stop it!”

With a snarl, Sebastian dug his claws into the left eye socket, twisting it and grinding it into nothing. Whether Phenex was being truthful about his ignorant assessment of the boy’s soul or not, this was the confession. He’d seen him. He’d looked at him.

Sebastian didn’t need to know more.

#my fics #sebaciel #black butler

77 notes · View notes

nagipops · 3 years

Text

SWEET NOTHINGS, BITTER ENDINGS PART II.

SUMMARY: in which your precious life is ended through a cruel twist of fate by your beloved brother.

WARNINGS: blood, profanity + SPOILERS for KNY chapter 115

A/N: link to part one.

He heard a deafening roar cry out from a distance away as crows frantically flapped out of the trees and into the sky above.

A demon?

Sheathing his blade, the hashira began to sprint to the source of the noise coming from the east.

The first scent he picked up on was blood. It was faint, but it was there. But it wasn’t demon blood.

Human blood?

As he continued to travel east, heart racing, he heard crashing up ahead and quickly dove into a nearby bush to scout out the intruder. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted a flash of pink and green. Mitsuri?

He cautiously searched the area for any signs of demons before following after the pink haired girl.

“Kanroji!” he barked as the girl’s head perked up at the sound of her name. She whipped around, her green eyes lighting with relief.

“Sanemi!” She bounded over to him, grasping his shoulders tightly with shaking arms. "Sanemi, where did (Y/N) go? Did you meet up with her?"

His veins turned to ice. The human blood he smelled. The spine-chilling roar he heard.

Sanemi opened his mouth to speak, but all he could manage was a petrified shake of his head.

The light green eyes facing him widened with fear. "Oh, god... oh god oh god oh god..." She snapped out of her horrified trance as another pained howl pierced through the midnight air and her eyes locked with the wind hashira's once more. Steeling their gazes, the two pillars sped off to the direction of the noise.

If there was one thing Sanemi wished to erase from his memory forever, it would be the sight of his mother, a feral demon ripping her own children to shreds with her own fangs and claws.

If there was another thing Sanemi wished to erase from his memory forever, it would be the horrific scene splayed out in front of him.

Thick ash billowing into the air. The rancid stench of rotten flesh and blood.

The sight of his little sister crouching on the ground.

With pearly white skin.

With raking, hooked claws.

With red, watery eyes.

With glinting ivory fangs.

With the scent of a demon flowing from her body, her limbs, her breaths,

Her blood.

The wind hashira stood paralyzed to the ground, mortified at what he was seeing with his own two eyes.

His little sister.

A demon.

This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

“S-sanemi...” a soft whisper sounded from his right. He slowly turned his head to find the love hashira’s horrified gaze locked onto the demon in front of her. “She’s— she...”

Mitsuri began to collapse to the ground, but not before Sanemi could wrap his arms around her frail, trembling body, his mouth still agape.

“What do we do?” she whimpered weakly, still staring in shock at her sister— no, the demon in front of her. “Sanemi, what do we—”

“I don’t know!” he snarled, vengeance and frustration bubbling within his body. Not again. This was not happening to him again. Setting down the girl onto her feet, shuddering hands moved to the sheath of his blade. “She’s— she’s a demon. We... we have to.”

“No!” Mitsuri cried, tackling him to the ground. “Stop! She’s our sister!”

Sanemi clenched his teeth with such resentment that you could hear them scraping against each other. “You think I don’t know that?!” he shouted at his comrade, his harsh voice breaking in his throat. “You think I want to do this?!”

Tears spilled from the green eyes hovering over him, but no words escaped her lips. Her head shook softly, unable to grasp the fact that this was reality. This was real. This wasn’t some cruel nightmare. Her sister was a demon.

Mitsuri fell to the ground as the white-haired pillar shoved past her shoulder, drawing his blade as he stared down the growling demon in front of him.

“(Y-Y/N)...” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the handle of his sword, gritting his teeth. “You idiot...”

Just then, a flash of purple materialized in front of him and the scent of flora clouded his senses.

“Shinazugawa-san,” the lilting voice warned. “Please step back.��

Sanemi growled, his furious eyes clouding with the urge to shove away the small girl in front of him.

An iron grip suddenly clutched at the sleeve of his haori.

“Stop.” The wind hashira heard the voice he loathed so much speak resolutely into his ear.

“Piss off!” he barked, snapping his arm to release it from the water pillar’s grip. But it was no use, as the hashira’s hold stayed firm. “I’m the only one who can do this! None of you have had to kill your own family members before!”

Giyuu’s eyebrows furrowed with bitterness as he pinned his comrade’s arms behind his back. “That’s enough. We’re taking her back to headquarters to consult with Ubuyashiki. The mission is over.”

The rest of the hashira stared down at the demon in front of them in horror.

The determined eyes, the confident smile, the warm aura of a little sister...

It was all gone.

“A demon...” the stone pillar wept, clasping his hands together and sending a silent prayer to the heavens for their lost sister.

The youngest pillar narrowed his eyes at the demon. “She’s not human at all any more, is she?”

Giyuu pulled on the rope restraining her, shaking his head. “She was... she was trying to speak while we brought her here,” he said softly, recalling how painful it was for the hashira to hear her pained screams and cries as they carried her home. “It seems like... she isn’t able to fully speak yet.”

The demon with the rope around her neck thrashed and snarled, baring her sharp white fangs and clawing at the hashira standing around her. Her catlike pupils dilating, she lunged forward at the flame pillar with a roar. “Rrrahh! He— hckk...” Giyuu tugged on the rope once more, stopping her just a few inches from Rengoku’s chest as she went limp.

“Rengoku-san!” Mitsuri cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. None of the hashira knew what to do with their sister. This monster in front of them.

How were they, the pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps, whose duty is to slay all demons, going to kill their own sister?

Did they have to?

“H-he-lp...”

All heads whipped to their sister crawling on the ground, her mouth agape and her red eyes watering.

“H-hel-p... end... m—”

Something shifted in her eyes. As if she was finally able to see clearly for the first time.

Her crimson orbs widened, her claws reaching to her pale face as though she was making sure she was real. She sat there, knees folded underneath her, touching and patting her demonic body with wonder.

The hashira locked eyes with each other in concern.

Has she regained consciousness? Would she turn malicious? Will she recognize who we are? Does she know we’re her siblings?

A broken sob pierced through the air as all of the pillars turned to the center of the circle once again.

One gnarly claw sat over her heart, the other covering her pale mouth. A steady flow of tears poured from her glistening scarlet eyes as she kept her gaze trained on the ground in front of her.

“I-I’m...”

Giyuu gazed at her with sorrow. Shinobu’s eyes filled with sympathy. Mitsuri clasped her hands over her mouth, letting out a sob. Obanai lightly touched her shoulder. Gyomei’s tears began to flow faster. Sanemi stood paralyzed with shock.

“A... de... mon...”

The wind hashira raised a shaking finger, pointing at his sister kneeling on the ground. “O-oi...” he started, his voice trembling. “She can— she can talk...”

Moving to crouch in front of the demon was the insect pillar who tentatively reached a cautious arm onto her bony white shoulder. “My little butterfly... Can you hear me?”

Crimson eyes slowly slid over to meet violet ones, tears still trickling out of them. Her head nodded at an excruciating pace, seemingly sapping all of her energy.

“Good. I am your older sister, Shinobu, and these are all of your siblings, you see?” Her soft, kind voice unwavered, as though she had comforted demons like this countless times during her life. She turned and swept one arm out to the hashira standing before her, the other trained firmly on the younger girl’s back.

Staring before you were the nine pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps. Your nine older siblings locked their grief-stricken eyes with yours. You could barely hear your sister's voice over the thumping sound of blood rushing through your body.

You were so thirsty. You were so tired. You just wanted to sleep. Forever.

“... friends, okay?” the soft voice carried you out of your thoughts. “(Y/N)? Are you still with us?”

You felt your lips part, but no sound came out. Panic rose throughout your body as you tried and failed, and tried and failed again to speak.

The hashira before you looked at each other in concern before the one behind you piped up. “Use your body to speak if you can,” the calm voice spoke. “I’ll keep her on the rope just in case.”

Your stinging eyes moved to meet with pained dark blue ones as his pale hands wrapped firmly around the rope your frail body was attached to.

Nodding slowly— gods, it was so painful— you reached a hand over to one side of your rope-bruised neck and dragged it over to your other side, making a cutting motion.

The hashira gaped at you in horror.

“You... you want us t-to kill you?” The white-haired male yelled, the pulsing veins in his blank eyes straining as they peered into yours.

They were red.

Blood.

You needed blood. You craved it so, so badly. You could feel it bubbling in your gut and spreading from the tips of your clawed toes to your pale white skull. You couldn’t live without blood.

Human blood.

It was everywhere. In a quarter of a millisecond, it was everywhere.

Blood.

Gushing out from a white haori-covered shoulder.

Right underneath your glinting fangs.

Oh, it was delicious.

Terrified screams and the clink of metal cried out from all around you.

But all you could focus on was the taste of blood.

Human blood.

A crack.

You were thrown onto your back. A rope pulled tautly around your neck. The butt of a sword staked right onto your chest.

You cheeks were wet. Why were they wet?

Your eyes stung so badly. Why did they sting?

A strained noise escaped from your throat against your will. “Do— it!”

The voice wasn’t your own.

This body wasn’t your own.

Who were you?

"DO IT!" a voice shrieked from inside you. "DO IT! KILL ME!"

Who... who was saying that?

Nine horrified pairs of eyes stared down at you. Who were they again?

"Please!" the voice was hoarse now. "Please, before I hurt you again!"

The handle of the sword pushing into your chest trembled. You turned to meet the wide eyes of the man with the white hair...

Who was he again?

Oh right, he had the most delicious blood...

But there was something else about him...

Your vision grew red as you remembered the pure ecstasy of drinking in his blood, quenching your never-ending thirst for just a moment...

You craved it again.

Thrashing your body about underneath the sword, you lunged forward, clawing at the man's pale neck.

Petrified gasps sounded from all around you.

A searing pain flooded through your entire body.

There, piercing right through your neck, was a nichirin blade.

And directly in front of your eyes was the green sword hilt of the wind pillar.

Wind pillar.

Your eyes widened in realization as all of your memories of your human life came flooding back into your head.

Shinobu teaching you how to concoct various antidotes and poisons. Mitsuri helping you fit your official Demon Slayer Corps uniform. Rengoku helping you up after a difficult sparring session. Giyuu patting your head before sending you off to the Final Selection. Himejima giving you charms of luck before your first mission.

Sanemi, who had supposedly died to the demon who turned you, in front of you now, with his sword buried into your throat.

“N-nemi—” you managed to croak out, your vision growing dark. All you could focus on was the horrified gaze staring back at you.

"Fuck, (Y/N)!" Sanemi barked. "Why the fuck did you go and do that and kill yourself! Shit! You're gonna fucking die now!" You could see tears on his scarred cheeks.

A tiny, sorrowful smile spread across your face. "Don't cry, Sanemi..." All of your energy poured into this one smile, this one smile to say your goodbyes. "Hey— Nemi... remember, you always said... humans... always get the last laugh, huh?"

The last thing you saw before your vision went black was Sanemi’s frightened eyes.

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated. feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! thank you <3

#kny #kny headcanons #kny imagines #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer angst #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny angst #sanemi imagines #mitsuri imagines #shinobu imagines #giyuu imagines #rengoku imagines #uzui imagines #angst

364 notes · View notes

yonkimint · 3 years

Text

So Show Me, I’ll Show You

Part 28.1

This part has written parts with pictures in between.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

TAGLIST (send me an ask or leave a reply if you want to be added!): @esteemedsalt @halesandy @historicalgigi @seaoffangirling @secretlycrazyhummingbird @kiwimash12 @aviwasabi21 @sehun096rainbow @darkskin-buttercup @rainfallingfromthesky @yoongiofmine @lucedelsole97 @pleasegivemearemedyyy @kim-jias-den @unadulteratedlyunique @thesweetest-peas @joyfullyobsessed @irishhbamb

When the door to your hospital room swings open, you groan in relief. Finally Jimin was here to jailbreak you. It was great having Lauren, Heeji, and Luna here but they are dutiful bulldogs and you can’t blame them. Your last visit to the hospital had left them pretty traumatized.

Your hopes fall when a man in scrubs steps into the room instead. You had seen him once or twice but you had never exchanged words. In fact, the only reason you remember him at all is because he is white and you thought that was odd, considering you were in a Korean hospital.

“Oh hi,” you say, uncomfortable, when he just stands at the foot of your bed. His head is bowed so you can’t study his face too closely but his presence puts you on edge. He doesn’t respond to your greeting so you push on, trying to keep your tone nonchalant, “The nurses just did their rotations and I’m doing fine. Did you need to check something?”

He laughs. A low throaty laugh that has haunted all of your nightmares. Your hands fist around hospital sheets as a cold chill runs up your spine. Swallowing around the lump rising in your throat, you peer closer at him.Mark’s hair is black. This orderly’s is ash blonde. But everything else… you suck in a sharp breath.

“Hello, y/n, did you get my flowers?”

He lifts his head and all his sharp features suddenly come into focus. He has been here the whole time watching you try to recover from injuries that he perpetuated. He looks pleased. And his pleasure makes you want to claw his face off.

“Go to hell, asshole.” You try to sound menacing, to hiss these words like poison, but they only come out a weak, fearful wheeze. Mark clucks his tongue at you.

“Look at you, y/n, trying to be brave when you’re really nothing but a weakling. A cowardly little girl. You would be nothing without me and you know it. You don’t really think you’re going to fight me, do you?”

There’s a glimmer in his eye and it makes you so angry. But the part of you that has endured his abuse for years is still the stronger part and you feel your anger give way to hopelessness. Mark is right. You won’t fight him.

“Good girl. Now, we are going to go on a little field trip, okay?”

You shudder as he steps around the bed and traces the IV still in your arm. You had been waiting until the last second to remove it so the nurses wouldn’t suspect anything if they walked in but now you regret that choice. Mark has no intentions of being gentle with you.

He presses a palm against your mouth, smiling vindictively as the fingers of his other hand loop around the tubes that have been delivering your medicine and fluid for the last few days and yanks the whole thing loose. You whimper into his skin as blood splashes from your open vein.

“How are we supposed to go on a field trip when any camera is going to catch you dragging me out of this room?” you ask him, hoping fleetingly that he hasn’t thought of this. But he’s been here for who knows how long.

“My little writer,” he coos, snatching your phone from your lap and slipping it into his scrubs pocket, “You really do try to think of everything that can happen, don’t you?”

You glare at him. You have taken abuse from him all these years and still, it’s the patronizing that sets you off every time. And he knows he’s pushed the right button too because he laughs and pats your cheek gently.

“Oh my sweet little y/n, the field trip is right here in the hospital. I’m going to roll you out of here in that wheelchair,” he says, pausing to point to the wheelchair that sits in the corner of your room, “and we’re going to go down the hall. And you’ll do exactly what I tell you to because you know that I have your phone which means I can either let you say goodbye to your friends or make them think that you never want to see them again. Your choice!”

This is so cliche, you think, hobbling out of bed when he gestures for you to get up, like something out of a stupid soap opera. Disguises himself as an orderly and kidnaps me right under everyone’s noses. God damnit.

Your field trip brings you to a supply closet on the third floor of the hospital which, conveniently, is under renovation. You can’t help but think that Mark is following this cliched script just to piss off the writer in you.

Now that you’re out of sight of the cameras, he has tied your limbs to the chair so you can’t run away. A gag sits roughly in your mouth and cuts against the corners of your lips. Mark is circling you as if deciding where he should start.

Lauren told you that he threatened to do so much worse than put you in the hospital next time he found you and you let your eyes flutter shut in defeat.

You choose not to think about that. Instead, you let your memories play like old movie reels on the backs of your eyelids. Heeji’s art galleries. Lauren’s photo shoots. And Luna’s ridiculous seances every full moon.

You stifle a chuckle. No need to bring on Mark’s wrath any sooner than necessary.

And then, newer memories begin to play and a lump rises in your throat. These ones aren’t supposed to be tinged with melancholy. These are supposed to be the memories of starting over. The memories from after you are safe.

You swallow hard.

The flight had already taken a lot out of you. This was just the cherry on top of a totally stressful, life changing ice cream sundae. At least this coffee shop seemed safe and warm while you tried to figure out if you were going to be homeless or not.

Seoyun, the barista, had been kind enough to give you the WiFi password so looking up your address shouldn’t be too difficult. Still, you lowered your head down on the table with a sigh of defeat. Seoul was so confusing.

“Oh, I know that look,” a voice sounds above you. Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing, already distrustful of a friendly stranger in the heart of South Korea. He smiles at you and his perfect rows of white teeth are so familiar, you already feel your tense muscles uncoiling. He presses on, “it’s not your first day in Seoul, is it?”

You glance at your luggage and back at him, remembering Lauren’s texts to go find BTS. As if the butt of some cosmic joke, it seems that they have found you instead.

You roll your eyes at him, “what gave it away?”

He glances down at your luggage too and laughs. You study his face carefully so you see the exact moment he makes a decision that will alter the course of both your lives.

His hands are full with two trays of coffee and he shoves them down on your table without asking. You raise an eyebrow at him, not really surprised by his boldness but somehow taken aback all the same, but he only flashes his brilliant smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. He sits down.

“You look like you don’t trust yourself to breathe. Like you’re trapped in your own brain or something,” he comments.

You lean forward, reminding yourself to calm the flare of annoyance rising in your chest before you speak. “Jimin,” you say evenly, “do you think you can just sit here with a complete stranger, flirt with her a little bit, and she’ll open up with her whole life story?”

“It’s always worked before,” he chirps back, batting his eyes, that same heart melting grin never wavering. But you see it there behind his gaze. No one has ever called him out on this before and you smile.

“I sincerely doubt that…” you say, trailing off as his hand darts out for the phone you’ve left on the table. You gasp, your reflexes too slow to catch him now, and he giggles swiping through as many un-password protected screens as he can.

“Well, I sincerely doubt that you know where you’re going since you’re sitting in a random coffee shop with all your luggage so, out of the kindness of my heart, I’ve decided to help you find your way,” he says, handing the phone back and gesturing for you to unlock it for him.

Your insides are screaming not to do it. You have to keep a low profile or starting over is going to fail but the earnest look in his eye has you wavering. With a sigh, you unlock the phone and you feel it deep in your gut, everything is over before it’s even begun.

It didn’t really matter what Mark was doing to torture you, just that he was and the pain was excruciating. You had heard a rumor once that after a certain point, the body would stop responding to pain but you were sure now that that was a lie. This was endless.

Your eyes start to roll back when Mark claps in front of your face again. You blink back into focus and your whole body is screaming for relief. He’s looking at you like you should say something to him but you can’t speak, the gag still firmly in your mouth, muffling all your screams.

“Can’t have you dozing off, my favorite little writer, you’ll miss the best part!”

You quirk an eyebrow, inviting him to give his little villain’s speech. He obviously wants to follow the soap opera script so you might as well let him follow it to its natural conclusion. He grins, tracing your jaw line with something icy cold. A knife?

No, you tell yourself, don’t think about that.

“You’re probably thinking how cliche this all must be. The hospital disguise. The hiding in plain sight. You’re probably even thinking that since we stayed in the hospital, it’s inevitable that I will get caught. Which is true. The question is if it will happen before or after I kill you,” he says, “And maybe the more important question is this: why did Mark do this to the thing that makes him all his money?”

The thing? You would spit on him if there weren’t a gag in your mouth.

He leans close, his eyes boring into yours. “And the answer is really quite simple. You disgust me. You think you’re so talented and so clever. Everyone adores you and bends over backwards to care for you and what do you really need protection from? Your big, bad manager and publisher?”

He’s going to keep ranting, you know it, and you don’t want the short time you have left to be spent listening to this tirade. They say it’s normal to disassociate under trauma and so you do, falling into your memories again.

Namjoon had warned you about Yoongi before you even stepped foot in the studio. It still wasn’t enough to stop the way your heart dropped down into your stomach when you caught a glimpse of him in the hallway.

You had told him after the fact that you didn’t remember this moment but the truth of the matter was, it was impossible to erase this memory from your mind. With all the steel you could muster, you met his gaze. Dark, critical eyes stared back at you, soft pink lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line.

You offered a gentle smile like it was an olive branch, your knees wobbling while you waited for him to roll his eyes or storm away. But his eyes only widened, those annoyed lips parting in a small ‘o’, color rushing up to dust his round cheeks.

It made your knees knock together and you ducked your head. What was that? Forget it. If he was going to refuse to meet you, you weren’t going to waste feelings over it.

The next memory spills into recollection almost on top of this one.

Would it be okay if I came and listened to what you’re working on? you texted Namjoon.

Jungkook and Hobi were arguing about who got to be Luigi in the next race. You chuckled to yourself, amazed for the billionth time that you had somehow been invited to hang out with these boys again. You had already known they were incredible but actually interacting with them was overwhelming. They were as wonderful as they had always seemed from afar.

Even, you thought, Yoongi. He had extended a truce but he was still frustrating to no end. What did he mean you could never be friends? He was obviously capable of being friendly and you knew the way he cared for and protected his group members. It shouldn’t sting so much that he didn’t want to be YOUR friend but what could you do?

“Y/n, I curated a meme just for you,” Tae whispers from his place beside you on the couch and you startle when he pushes his phone into your hands.

“What the hell, Tae?” you burst out laughing, trying to make sense of the chaotic picture before you. He starts laughing too, satisfied by your reaction and takes his phone back. You punch his arm lightly and mutter, “you’re so weird.”

Let me ask Yoongi, your phone chimes. Your stomach surges with some feeling you don’t understand. You remind yourself that you’re just going to hang out with Joon. This has nothing to do with Yoongi and yet…

How is he supposed to become your friend if you let him keep avoiding you?

He says you can’t talk but you can come in.

You’re out of your seat before you have time to think about it more. The boys look up at you in surprise and you announce that you’re gonna hang out with Namjoon a bit before you challenge them to Mario Kart. The look of fear in Jungkook’s eyes sends you into another fit of laughter and you pat his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Kookie, winning isn’t everything!”

“Yes it is!” he groans as you walk away.

In the studio, your stomach starts to dance again. Yoongi doesn’t look up from the scratch paper he’s scribbling on but you can see the way his fingers tighten around his pen. He is as aware of your presence as you are of his. When Namjoon points to the spot on the couch beside him, it takes all your concentration not to trip over your own feet.

You scold yourself for this silly behavior. There are more adoring members of this kpop group to be mooning over. Mooning over? You are NOT mooning over Yoongi. Who said that? Not you.

Anyway, whatever it is you’re feeling, Yoongi has done nothing to deserve it. So why do your eyes keep landing on him as you survey the room?

“I don’t like that lyric there,” Namjoon says, “maybe we should move it down into the second verse.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but it’s softened by the small smile playing at his lips. He and Namjoon must have been going back and forth over these lines for quite some time. You watch as he scribbles out the words and moves them lower down the page.

His eyes meet yours and the hairs rise on the back of your arms. He doesn’t look upset that you’re there and that’s almost more unsettling than him insulting you. You press your lips together and search for anywhere in the room to look but him.

The phone in your lap will have to provide distraction enough. You pick it up and fiddle around between home screens but there’s nothing as interesting there as what’s happening before you so you listen in on the lyrics they’re crafting while you pretend to text the girls.

Of course, when you find out the song is for E.L. Penn, you spiral. You knew your worlds were going to collide if you stuck around long enough. It’s never been a secret to you that Namjoon was a fan of her work — your work — or that they would have worked with her on the movie if she hadn’t gone on hiatus.

But you are just an English teacher in Seoul and not the recipient of this song that is making your heart hurt. You can’t believe Mark would hack into your Twitter account just to set this in motion without you. He’s trying to push your buttons and it’s working.

So you do the only thing you can. You call Lauren.

When you return to the studio, Namjoon is gone. You knew he would be since he passed you in the hall while you were still on the phone. Yoongi looks up at you in surprise but you only offer a curt nod before beelining for your spot on the couch.

The tears spill out before you can help it and your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi. You feel stupid as you read his stupid question through blurred vision. You respond sardonically and toss your phone onto the couch.

When he tells you you’re killing the vibe, you almost launch to your feet and run out of the room but Yoongi stops you. You stare at him, mouth gaping open like a fish.

“You want to what?” you ask, wondering if he’ll scold you for talking out loud to him.

He reaches for his guitar instead, a sleek, black stained acoustic that you’ve seen in several lives from before you actually knew him. He strums the chords lightly, the sweet sounds discordant in the small space. You blink at him.

“It’s something I’ve been working on,” he says vaguely, “I’m just curious what you think.”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. He frowns at you, his lips puckering and little dimples appearing in the corners of his cheeks.

“Just be quiet and listen, okay?” he asks it like a question but you know he’s giving a command.

You smile at him a little too sweetly and then settle back into the couch, pulling your legs up to your chest, so you can rest your chin on your knees as he starts to strum. He rolls his eyes at you but there’s a smile in them that you’ve never seen directed at you before.

Your stomach makes that weird lurch again and you finally resign yourself to what you are feeling. Butterflies. Min Yoongi is giving you butterflies.

221 notes · View notes