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comethead · 6 months

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Wrong Number

MDNI // smutfic // Jason Todd x Reader

“You accidentally take an edible laced with sex pollen, and unbeknownst to you, you called Jason instead of Ivy. Smut ensues.”

(gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n, recreational drug use, sex pollen, missionary, creampie, aphrodisiacs)

Ao3 Link

[dedicated to @fcthots ]

Your breaths come out in short puffs, sweat beading on your forehead. Your skin is on fire, and there’s an undeniable ache between your legs you can’t ignore anymore. Stripped naked, you laid on your bed, legs squeezed together to try and alleviate your burning desire. Dammit. You reach out to your phone, sweeping your hand over your sheets until your fingers make contact with the smooth surface of your screen. Opening it, you scroll down your contacts. F, G, H, I, J. You hit Ivy’s contact, and close your eyes while you let it ring. Hearing it connect, you groan, “Ivyyyy, I don’t know what was in that damn edible you made but I feel- I don’t- ugh.” You smack your bed in frustration, tears welling up from the tension in your stomach. This was embarrassing. You were high, and then horny, but now the high has worn off and you’re still trying to get off. “You know what- never mind, I’ll talk to you later.” You clicked the end call button, and rolled onto your back. Okay, time to try and finish.

Jason stared at the phone in his hand, the screen on ‘call ended’. What the hell was that about? Shit, you weren’t in trouble were you? Edible, huh… He heard from you that Ivy was dabbling in making some after growing weed, which, whatever, she’s not destroying city blocks with her plants anymore so he’ll take that any day. But by your words, it seemed like she’s up to something, he’ll have to check on that later. Or…

“Hey, Oracle. Do me a favor and look into Ivy for me?”

“Sure, what for?” came her reply.

“Mmm, well my friend took one of her edibles and-”

“Wait. Edibles? You better not be doing some stupid prank Hood, or I swear-”

“No! No, it's-,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose,”She just sounded like she was in trouble, but whatever, I’ll deal with it.”

“Oh.” He could hear through the comm link the way her voice softened, which he’s not sure if he hates or is grateful for. “Alright, I’ll send someone over to Ivy’s location.”

“Thanks.”

He shut off the link and looked over to your fire escape. Parking his bike in the alley that ran next to your place, he scaled the wall and clambered onto the escape. It was dark in your room, but you left your window open. Pulling the screen aside, Jason stepped into the room and onto the little welcome mat you put there as a stupid joke. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped.

You were on your side, moans muffled by your pillow as you worked your fingers faster, the slick noises accompanying your voice. His eyes widened, heat shooting through his body as he felt his dick twitch in his combat pants. Fuck, oh how he’s thought of you like this for some nights now. But not now, he thought, must’ve been some of Ivy’s aphrodisiac in that edible. Clearing his throat, he stepped closer. You squeal, and bolt upright, looking at him with wide eyes. “Wha- Jay, what are you doing here?”

“You called me,” he shrugged, ”Wrong number, I guess.”

You stared at him, gears turning in your brain. Maybe, maybe not ‘wrong number’. He could help you, couldn’t he? He’s always been on your mind like that, you might’ve had some unholy thoughts about your best friend.

“Jay,” you whisper, crawling on your hands and knees toward him, “Please,” you’re reaching up to his face now, settling your hand on his mask, “fuck me”.

“Uhh.” It’s his turn to stare at you, eyes trailing over the slope of your chest. “I- I mean, no, you’ve been dosed with some aphrodisiac-” You’re taking his mask off now, sliding your other hand down his chest- “And- and I can’t-”, his breath catches as your hand is placed right on top of his tummy, “-you don’t know what you want,” he finished, glancing from your hands to your half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t?” You gaze back into his eyes, looking down to his lips as you move closer, ghosting your hands over his body and placing them on his shoulders. Your lips connect, and he deepens the kiss, placing his hands on your waist. You pull him closer to you, shifting back until you can bring him down to your level, lips still on each other as he runs a hand through your hair. Your hair catches on his fingers and it pulls, but it feels so good the way he’s bringing his hand through from your scalp and grabbing a fistful of your hair at the back. You moan into his mouth as your kisses get sloppier, as he releases your hair and his hands wander down over your nude body, caressing your thighs. You don’t know if you can take it anymore. Pulling back from his kiss, you breathe,”Jay, please, I need you so badly, I- I can’t-”. You gasp as he suddenly grips your thighs and curses.

Straightening, he starts to strip as you watch, flushing as you spot his happy trail and finally, as he pulls his pants down you can see the bump of his bulge in his boxers. You rub your thighs together, scooting back onto the bed to give him space to mount you. You can see him tracing the shape of your body with his eyes, finally locking onto the wetness between your legs. Jason pushes his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and you can see he’s already leaking precum, which threatens to snap that tight band in your stomach. Throwing your head back, you moan and spread your legs for him. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Yeah I’ll fuck you alright,” as he looms over your needy body. He kneels on the bed, lining his stiff cock with your entrance and begins to push in.

“Fuuuckk, baby you gotta relax,” he moans, pressing into you slowly as your mouth gapes from how he’s stretching you open. You swear you almost cum immediately from his intrusion, but your arousal heightens as he thrusts all the way in. You cry out in pleasure, gripping your sheets and squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to fuck you, slowly at first but quickening his pace as to seeing how desperate you are. You were practically rolling your hips onto his cock until he held them still and fucked you at a punishing pace. He groaned, his ear tickled with your pleading and moaning. It felt so good, the burning feeling turned into pleasure as Jason rocked his hips into yours, and you were sure you were going to finally cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me aren’t you?” he moans, the sounds of your sex filling the room.

“You’re close, aren’t you baby? C’mon then,” he lowers his face towards your ear, “Cum for me sweetheart,” he whispers, and finally that tension snaps and you cry out, your orgasm forcing your eyes shut as you cream around his cock that’s still pumping hard into you. You pant as he curses and thrusts into you faster, chasing his own high until he’s spilling his cum into you, the warmth making your belly tingle. He’s panting too, as he pulls out of you and stands up, reaching over to grab a towel from your dresser. He cleans you up and you stare up at him, eyes half-lidded and the only sounds that fill the room are of you two breathing hard. You don’t talk and neither does he, and you move over on the bed to give him room as he lays next to you. He moves onto his side, propping his head up with a hand as he smirks, “Not bad, huh?”

You snort, and snuggle closer to him.

“Not bad at all, Jay.”

#mdni #this is my first smut i wrote this in one go no beta readers #i think it’d be funny if harley and ivy were stoner girlfriends. they had weed and chilled out.#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #smut fic #sex pollen

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x3luvr · 4 months

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Love, Lust & Him —

Itachi x Reader

— In which the physical bond between you and Itachi only deepens the longer you're apart. —

a/n: I'm feeling nostalgic, I miss my Naruto era ;(

(Not proofread !!)

It had been so very long since the last time you laid eyes on that crimson, gem-like gaze of his. Nostalgia enveloped your insides as his charcoal locks, which were now grown out longer than you'd last remembered, framed his pale, almost sickly appearance. The man was called many names, a murderer, a threat, a prodigy. However when you stand before him now, watching his cold expression morph into a look of longing, a look of love, the constant pain of distance, many sleepless nights and wondering if he was still alive seem utterly in the past. Itachi Uchiha wasn't just any Shinobi, he was your Shinobi.

"Hi love, It's been a while." His arms wrap so perfectly around your body, almost like their sole purpose was to hold you in them.

"It's been too long Itachi." You reply in a mellow tone, taking in his warm, earthy scent that always felt like home. Most people would bolt in fear at the sight of the Uchiha, but not you, you clung onto him as though he may slip away again if you let go.

“I missed you more than I can put into words." You sighed, as he intertwined his long fingers within your hair.

"You can show me in another way you know?" A hint of tease emerged from his delicate smile. After so much time apart, all you wanted was to feel him more than just surface level, to see the most vulnerable parts of such a powerful man, a man who was seemingly soul-tied to you. Gently pushing the front strands of his hair back onto his ear, you leaned in, breath hitching slightly before meeting his soft, cushion like lips. His body leaned into yours, tracing the silhouette of your hips, with a touch so soft like he was afraid to break you.

Stepping closer towards the bed, you found yourself light headed from the way Itachi's lips grazed over your neck, trailing lower and lower before pausing just before your breasts. "Are you sure about this love?" You knew that if you wanted to stop, he would. However you couldn't help but grin at his unsuccessful attempt at hiding the neediness in his eyes.

"If not with you then who else?" You hushed beside his ear before guiding him on top of you, spreading your legs in order to wrap around his defined waist. Itachi’s breath quivered at your touch against his large, clothed bulge. As his head dropped onto the crook of your neck, you began fiddling with the helm of his shirt, capturing glimpses of his bare chest.

“I’m all yours, do with me as you please.” He almost pleaded once he was left in nothing but his boxers, and you in a pair of underwear. In response, you laced his fingers and placed them on your plush breasts, allowing him to firmly grope you. A moan slipped past your lips as he trailed sloppy kisses down your abdomen. Pealing off the last piece of clothing from your body, two of Itachi’s icy fingers inserted into your already dripping cunt. They were long, and stretched you out as he pumped your walls, observing your features when he curled them or fastened the pace.

The back of your hand strived to cover up the unholy noises which you failed to contain, when all of a sudden the sensation of the Uchiha’s tongue pulsating through your sex hazed you much, much further. “Itachi.. if you continue like this I’ll..” Your words slurred, and as if without conscious thought, your hands passed though your legs and into the dark locks of your beloved. His mouth trailed like clockwork when you felt the rush of blissful climax engulf your body.

Itachi watched as your chest rose and fell with the heavy panting that turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Once you’d reached your senses, the intense yearning for more pulsated through you. Taking the initiative, you crawled onto his lap, straddling him with your bare sex before you felt the sheer size of his cock poking beneath you. Rubbing your cunt back and forth, the soft grunts emerging for Itachi’s flushed face gave you the courage to pull down his boxers. “Are you sure it’ll fit?” You hesitated.

“We’ll make it work love.” Itachi smiled ever so sweetly, before placing you on your back and aligning himself at your entrance. As he pushed in, you gasped at how your walls filled to the brim with his length. “You’re doing so well sweetheart,” he connected his lips against yours, taking in each whimper from the kiss. Once he pulled away with beads of sweat dripping down his body, the sight of his bulge poking at your stomach left you astounded.

The shinobi groaned in pleasure as his hips developed rhythm, pulling in and out with each thrust. Your arms reached for his back, nails digging into his flesh whenever you felt him go in particularly deep. This was the sight you craved for more than anything. To feel Itachi all around you, to have every inch touched by him and him only. His lashes fluttered in your direction, revealing an expression that was filled with so much emotion, yet so little comprehension. His base slammed into you repeatedly until you let out moans of utter satisfaction.

Itachi’s pace faltered once he reached his peak, his eyelids lowered and his groans turn into jagged breaths. The Uchiha’s bare frame laid on top of yours, allowing you to enjoy the comfortable silence whilst you spent time entangled within one another for perhaps the last time. On the inside, you began appreciating how smooth his skin was, the number moles plastered across his face, and even the dusty pink shade of his lips.

For a moment, the still atmosphere was broken when Itachi cupped the side of your face, reaching for your lips once more as he spoke up in a tone laced with nothing but affection and heartache. “Thank you.. for loving me.”

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nyimasu · 1 year

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INCHES IN BETWEEN US — BUDDHA X FEM!READER

ART CREDIT!

— CW : size kink, buddha is THE master of teasing, sweets are involved in this one (keep reading ehe), sacrilegious stuff, lots of foreplay, pet names (petal), praise kink, fingering and oral (f receiving), prone bone position

— WORD COUNT : 2.1k┊AO3 LINK

NOTE : who would've thought buddha would break me out of my writer's block *heavy sigh* you better watch out in the future for other unholy thoughts of mine about him and other ror's charas 🤭

P.S : sweeteries of the sort are NOT safe to use on intimate parts! I just added it here for funsies but you all stay safe out there please <;3

It’s too much, the dash of distance between you and him. Too close, yet so far from one another.

Nevertheless, his warmth overwrites yours like the other times as the man inches closer to your parted lips, a bright smile bordering his own while a strong hand covers your breast altogether. You close your eyes, whiny whimpers clogging your throat.

The differences between you and your partner are too many to count, starting from status and height. To feel him hover over your smaller frame is enough to make you spiral.

But not as much as when he starts to tease you about it.

A gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, then his mouth is a breath away from yours. His earrings jingle as he straddles you, lips curled in a sly smirk.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Too big of a boy for ya, uhm? You want just the tip, petal?”

A shaky sob rips through your chest at the question, eyes flying to stare into the holy ones transfixed on your body. But Buddha is far from being divine, purposely avoiding the mere enlightenment of the mind whenever he’s with you.

Why indulge himself in that when he can experience such pleasurable things such as your lips coated in sugar?

He takes off his glasses with his free hand while kneading the tender flesh of your tits caged in his other one. He leaves them on one of the many pillows scattered across the room, similar to the ones you are laying on (not a big fan of beds, the both of you).

Buddha grazes your nipples with his palm, hard, and your reaction makes him smirk.

So needy for me.

“Want me to keep doing it? Ah-ah”, he tuts when you shake your head, out of breath. “Let me hear that cute voice of yours.”

“N-no, I need you here.” you point at your crotch with your eyes, embarrassment laced with desire boiling in your veins. Buddha can feel how wet you are through the fabric of his robes, too, but he won’t let you off the hook so easily.

“Where, exactly?” he whispers, a hint of amusement tainting his voice as his fingers circle your breast and then down to graze the navel. His touch lingers on it for a second then he looks up at you, waiting.

If you stop talking, he won’t move.

He’s going to be the death of you.

“Keep going, please.” it’s a feeble, pathetic plea the one that reaches him, but he obliges all the same. On his own terms, of course.

The noise of something being unwrapped should startle you, but you are used to it. However, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sound, especially because you know what it means.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” “Me? Never.” you stare at Buddha through lidded eyes. Somehow you still have some brattiness left in you, and you use it to your advantage when you raise a hand to his crotch, palming him through the robes. Oh.

You’re not the only one riled up.

His hiss proves you right, and so does the white stick poking out of his mouth: he really popped a lollipop in his mouth. A strawberry flavoured one, to be exact.

Everytime he eats one of them, it means you are going to be bedridden for a while.

Black orbs pierce your soul as he chuckles, “Ah, petal. You are going to be so much fun for centuries to come. My pretty, sweet petal.”

The tinge of possessiveness in those last words leaves you breathless, but you shoot him a beaming smile he copies right away. He will not get bored of you anytime soon, and you’re far too gone for him to back down now.

The softness of the moment turns into lust as Buddha tilts his head to the side, you gawking at him as he rolls the pink globe of sugar on his lips from one side to another.

His tongue swirls around it a few times and while he does so, he strips himself of his clothes. — what’s left of them, because the tank top had been ripped to shreds by you an hour ago.

That stark body of his, every inch of it sculptured and forged by millenia of godly training, is always a sight to see.

You feel your mouth water and almost choke on it at the sensation of his erection pushing against your thigh. He’s so pleased with your reaction — your body chanting in ecstasy for him is always music to his ears. Buddha rewards you by bending down, lollipop pushed aside in his mouth to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

A sudden attack at your resolve to stay focused, not to give in so quickly to him, but it doesn’t work.

In the haze of the moment you suck on his canines and he moans, gaze roaming your face as he breaks the kiss and sighs out,

“Seems you can’t wait any longer, am I right?”

“I’m not the only one.” you shoot back and Buddha chuckles. Touché.

The arousal between your thighs pools more and more with every clever stroke he resumes to give to the lollipop. You try to rub them together and give yourself some sort of relief, but he's having none of that.

The deity stares you down, one eyebrow raised.

For a moment, you catch the glimpse of lilies swallowing his pupils, then they vanish.

You are unaware of his next move, but he’s not.

“Budd-” before you can finish, he presses the candy on your lower lip, prying your mouth open until the lollipop falls on your tongue. The taste of him on your taste buds makes you dizzy.

“Talk to me.”

His lips ghost over your body as he descends, his hands already on your thighs stretching them open. You do so without breaking eye contact, and when the space between your legs is enough for his frame to fill, his hair tickles your skin. Buddha leaves a sticky trail of kisses everywhere he can reach, breathing on them when you suddenly yelp.

He notices it and stares up at you just as you do the same, sprawled atop the pile of fluffy pillows and veils of the bedroom.

Magnificent, Buddha sighs in his mind and a grin is all he gives away when another warm, clear wave of arousal leaks through your pussy.

“Do you need me here?” his tongue on your thigh.

“Or here?”

When he moves again, you almost flee your skin.

“My God yes, right there.” out of reflex, you bury your fingers in his hair as he wraps his tongue around your clit, sucking on it while you yank at the locks, whining. Buddha knows better than wearing it up around you for you adore to see his long, soft strands glide over your body like silken streams of water.

To your displeasure he stops his ministrations to spare you a puzzled look, as if he heard you say the lewdest of lies. And to him, it is.

“Not God.

Me.”

And without missing a beat, Buddha dips his head down to take half of your soppy cunt in his mouth, easing two fingers in you at the same time.

You arch your back in shock, biting on the lollipop for dear life while the deity between your legs runs his tongue up your folds, humming to himself how sweeter you are than any other candy he ever ate as he fingers your insides, clenching and squeezing him until he scissors them apart. You are not going to take him fully if not fully prepped.

But it’s not enough.

“Buddha,” you keen, despair oozing from your voice as he simply coates his lips in your juices, doing nothing more. “I want more.”

He’s quick to respond without looking at you: “You should let go of any carnal desire you have, petal, if you want to achieve enlightenment.”

He did not just say that when he’s knuckles-deep inside you.

You yank at his roots, merciless, and the action has Buddha groan. The grunt goes straight to your pussy but don’t let it distract you from pushing the man’s head backward. When your eyes clash, you whisper through gritted teeth, “Don’t you dare lecture me about carnality when your cock is hard like a rock against my thigh.

How about you fuck me to Nirvana, instead?

Now that definitely stirs him up, and your words sets him ablaze.

Buddha leaves the comfort of your velvety walls and pussy with a sigh, but the emptiness is soon replaced by his hands behind your knees; he hooks your thighs on his broad shoulders, kissing them as you raise on your elbows to better stare at him.

“Mind if I borrow the lollipop?”

You give it to him, confused, until you watch as he takes it and realise what he wants to do. Your eyes go huge in alarm but Buddha carries on amidst your complaints.

“No-”

“Oh, shut up. We both know you’re not so against it when I do this.”

He kisses your knee to make sure you don’t take his words the wrong way and you immediately relax. Above everything, Buddha is a deity and as such, he acts on whims. And amongst his peers, he’s the most unpredictable one.

When he’s sure you’re not tense anymore, his hand still holding the candy lowers on your pussy and you hold your breath. But you almost faint on the spot when Buddha coats the lollipop in your juices, stroking it along your lower lips to capture every droplet.

That knocks the air out of you for good, and you’re close to hyperventilation when the candy disappears in Buddha’s mouth.

He’s sucking on it slowly, as if your release is a flavour he can’t stop to have in his mouth. Well, you’re not far from the truth.

“What a good girl”, he coos as he helps you get down on the pillows again, cupping your face the moment he comes up to peck at your lips in adoration. “Lemme taste you a bit more. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You smile, dragging him in another kiss he eagerly accepts.

But then, the world spins and you with it.

When you come to be, you notice you’re laying flat on your stomach, face buried in the pillows. What just happened?

You rise to your elbows once more and look from above your shoulder to see Buddha on his feet, legs slightly open as you watch him pump himself a few times, his own need for you so strong that the tip of his cock is already covered in precum. His gaze, transfixed at the sight of your glistening pussy, darkens the moment he feels your eyes on him.

He’s so aroused he can barely think straight.

“Why are you so far away from me?” you ask with a pout and Buddha sucks in a breath. Veins popping out on his neck, he waits for you to smile at him and when you do, another sigh claws its way out of him.

Not only you motion for Buddha to come back, but to lure him faster you spread your legs as much as you can, giving the man a full view of your cunt clamp, spasm around nothing.

“Fuck.”

“See? I need you inside me,” you’re eyeing him shamelessly and he doesn’t mind it at all. “Don’t make me wait. Please.”

So the moment he falls to his knees you smile, and he hides his face in the crook of your neck as he pushes a hand on your waist and his cock finally, finally dives into you. He moves slowly to let you adjust to his girth, and you cry in relief with each little thrust.

Every inch of his brush your sweet spots without even trying and you breathe in loudly when he bottoms out. He fills you to the brim just by staying still and Buddha is doing his best to stop himself from rutting into you. He can’t let his cock think for him, too.

But just feeling you clench around him and moan with every love bite he leaves on your neck as you take him and see goosebumps run all over your skin because of it — he’s going mad.

Your pupils are blown with lust when he tilts your head towards him, and he wastes no time in spitting the stick of the lollipop on the floor to grab you by the chin and stare at you dead in the eye. “Tell me when to move, petal.”

Spidery fingers wrap around his hand — yours. A sultry laugh escapes you yet he drinks it in when you kiss him, in line with the alluring way your hips keep bucking into his for friction.

Light green hair washes over you as Buddha complies, and when you moan on his lips as he starts to thrust into you he understands one, simple truth.

You really are the sweetest lover who ever graced Heaven and Earth, and he’s so lucky to have you all for himself.

#voice of cassandra #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #buddha x reader #buddha x you #ror buddha #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv smut #snv buddha

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neonpaperlanterns · 2 months

Note

Hello! I noticed you were open to any ideas or prompts and I thought of one

Reader being a worker of playtime that was Assigned to help dogday taking care of the children (this happens before the hour of joy) and reader has Cynophobia (extreme fear of dogs) and so when they first land their eyes on dogday, panic

Reader tries to avoid talking or being near dogday as best as they could, Which would confuse and made dogday feel guilty thinking he did something wrong to upset them

So dogday being the sweet pup he is tries to comfort and show reader he's not a bad guy

It's a bit long sorry ^^"

[A/n: I almost feel like I should make this a full series. Just to explore the development more]

He's a dog

Everything is fine, it’s perfectly, totally fine. You aren’t freaking out. Yeah totally not freaking out. These palms are completely dry and your heart is beating at a completely normal rate.

So what if things didn’t turn out how you thought they would? You were adaptable, you could roll with the punches. Even if… Even if the punches were this.

“Alright everyone, we have some new members joining us today!” Says the giant talking DOG.

This. Is. Fine!

You got this as long as—

The dog is touching your shoulder. His voice echoes in your ears and yeah no.

Nope.

You have got nothing. Nothing!

No—

~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes flutter open. Breathing deeply you stare up at the ceiling. It’s a mix of yellow, red, and blue. The paint is chipping in the red part, showing that underneath the ceiling is just plain gray concrete.

Hm. Where were you?

“Oh you’re awake!” The voice was cheerful, sunny even. Looking over you are filled with regret. Standing in the doorway of what you now understand to be a nurses office was the dog. Every muscle in your body seized up and it felt like your throat was full of cotton.

“I was so worried when you fainted. Are you alright? It didn’t say anything in your application that you were susceptible to dizzy spells~” He kept talking, his hands? Paws? His appendages moved around animatedly. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he moved closer. His words turned to white noise as he loomed over you.

If there was some divine being watching from above why did they hate you? Had you done something in a past life to warrant such ire?

“Oh dear, you look like you’re going to faint again. Is there something I can help you with?” All you could do was blink owlishly at his concern. Words were unable to come as you stared at him. You were sure you looked akin to a deer in headlights. You watched him cough awkwardly into his fist. The smile never left his face but it wasn’t as genuine as before.

For what felt like forever you stared at each other.

“Okay, um I’ll leave you to rest. And when you feel better I look forward to working with you!” Some of that sunny disposition returned to his face. You did nothing but blink and watch him shuffle out of the room.

He said he looked forward to working with you. The sentiment was not returned but you were sure you wouldn't be seeing him much. You were assigned to be the helper of the unicorn. So you were sure you would be able to avoid him as much as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~

There must be a god and they must hate you. They must find your suffering to be the ultimate entertainment. You had thought you were meant to be CraftyCorn's helper. You could have sworn you were. But no! By some unholy sick twist of fate you are actually the assistant to him.

The desire to cry on your second day of work was overwhelming. But you held it in. Somehow. You had already fainted on the first day you did not need to get a reputation. So you sucked it up. At least you tried to suck it up. It didn’t help that DogDay was so tactile and friendly and inclusive.

You were living in your own personal hell.

“Hey there my happy helper!” If DogDay noticed you flinch, he didn’t say anything. But he did slow down and there was still some distance between you two.

You stared at him.

He stared at you.

A cough escapes him as you fidget.

“I uh need your help with one of the kids. It’s Isabelle.” You didn’t know all of the kids yet so you weren’t actually sure which one Isabelle was. But you nodded anyway and trailed after him. You may not like this but you did like the kids. You would bear it for them.

~~~~~~~~~

DogDay had no idea what he did wrong. He watched the other Smiling Critters with their helpers. Everyone was getting along. It was so nice to watch the others but then he glanced over at his own helper. Who sat with their shoulders hunched up around their ears and a perpetual thousand yard stare.

He had thought that maybe you were just shy. Not yet used to them but he has seen you interact with the others. You were quiet but happy. Talking freely and playing with them and letting the children climb all over you. But the moment he walked over you would freeze up. Any pretense of joy wiped from your face and replaced with a blank look.

He confided in Catnap and KickinChiken that he felt like you didn’t like him. Catnap had simply flicked his tail at him but KC told him that was impossible. He said that DogDay was a rad dude and his helper just needed time.

But it’s been a month and every attempt to get to know you was met with either silence or your rapidly walking in the other direction. He just didn’t understand and it was driving him crazy. Had his first impression been too much? Did he come on too strong when he came to see you in the nurse's office?

He wished he knew. He just wants to be your friend.

~~~~~~~~~

You were starting to feel like a jerk. At every turn DogDay was trying to be nice to you and at every turn you would bolt away or shut down. And he definitely noticed. How couldn't he? You weren’t known for subtlety, especially not in this situation.

Though with the forlorn looks you were getting from DogDay you wished you had been.

“Hey Happy Helper.” You watched as his hands did a lackluster wiggle. He wasn’t looking at you and they just made you feel even worse.

“H...H..” You swallowed thickly. “Hey Bodacious Boss.” Did you just say bodacious? To your boss? From the look on his face he was just as shocked as you. Though you don’t think it was because you said bodacious. Probably.

After a moment of silence with you staring at each other, DogDay recovered first. He was looking at you now and he was smiling and his tail was wagging. Seeing him light up made you feel a bit better. Your hands were still clammy and there was a lot of saliva pooling on your tongue but it was nice to see him happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Can I ask you a question?” DogDay picked at the fur on his wrists. It’s only been a week since you spoke to him and boy was he nervous. He didn’t want to ruin whatever this was.

“Hm?” You were making sandwiches for the kids. It would be lunchtime soon. Shuffling in place he took your noncommittally hum as que that you were listening.

“Do you like me?” He watched as your shoulders stiffen. That blank look slowly creeping back onto your face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I’m afraid of dogs.” You blurted out stopping DogDay in his apologetic tracks.

“What?” It was his turn to blink owlishly. Not really sure what to say right now.

“When I was younger there was an incident…” You waved your hand in the air, like you didn’t want to remember it. “Anyways it messed me up and ever since I have been terrified of dogs.” You continued to make sandwiches.

“I’m a dog.” He says rather dumbly.

“I know.” You nod as you heave a sigh.

“I’m.. I’m sorry.” He frowns as he pulls at his ears and he can feel his tail sag against his legs.

“Please, don’t be.” You look up at him, a tight but genuine smile on your face. Your hand shakes a bit as you raise it in his direction.

“I like you. You’re my Bodacious Boss.” DogDay felt his tail twitch as he tentatively took your hand.

“I like you too, my Happy Helper.”

#poppy playtime #dogday x reader #reader insert #dogday poppy playtime #cynophobia #fear of dogs #very brief mention of childhood trauma #kickinchicken #catnap #craftycorn #bodacious

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transalphabf · 11 months

Text

Post 666

in honour of my 666th post on this blog i think you all deserve some devillish porn

Finding yourself bound to an altar, your legs and arms cuffed in cold iron, splaying your cunt to the cool air of the moonlit night, terror grasped you.

The chanting around you was enough to make you feel fear, but the air seemed to extinguish for a moment, after their voices reached a fever pitch. You realised you were no longer alone in the summoning circle you had awoken in.

Before you stood a monstrous figure. Goat headed, large scaled wings rising behind it, you clamped your mouth shut, not wanting to scream and force its attention on you.

Your head whipped to the side when you heard gurgling noises around you, and the robed figures dropped down one by one, until the only sound that remained was your own breath coming in quick puffs, and the low, heavy breathing of the demon before you.

With a huff, the metal dropped away from your wrists and ankles, and you hesitantly sat up. The creature watched you, scarlet eyes gleaming in the light of the full moon, before offering you a hand.

“Come with me, and you shall wear a crown. Come with me, and be the bearer of my spawn, you shall live a life of luxury, that which you had not imagined.” It- no, he said. You swallowed. “You shall wish for nothing, and I am bound to this mortal plane for as long as you are, so no harm shall fall upon you.”

Your hand shakily reached out, and he took it in his own, warm, large hand. A spike of arousal ran down to your cunt just from that touch.

“We shall consummate here, and then depart for our new home.” He informed you. Your eyes ran down, unsure what awaited you, but his enormous cock throbbed before you, and you had an idea of what it would be.

He knelt down, and a long, dextrous tongue left his snout, toying with your clit, before pressing into your cunt, lapping at your tight hole, pressing deeper, licking places that you could never have imagined being touched by anything but the largest of cocks. You came pretty quickly, shaking, gripping his large curved horns as you felt the tip of his tongue run against your cervix, and press into your g-spot simultaneously.

It was almost too much, so when he lay you back on the cold stone altar, resting his cock over your stomach, so you could see how deeply filled you’d be, your mind was too stricken with lust to realise that it would end up directly in your womb.

But perhaps that’s what his tongue had been preparing you for.

He pressed in, corrupting your formerly pure body with his hellishly hot cock, inch after thick agonising inch searing you from the inside, forcing you to cum just from the flared head bumping against your g-spot on its way to batter your cervix.

When finally the tip pressed insistently on your cervix, you were mewling and making the most unholy noises.

His goatlike nostrils flared, and with a rough, hard thrust, his enormous cock breached your cervix and began fucking your womb right away, his clawed hands gripping your hips, drawing blood a little from how hard he held you.

Not that you minded.

Your mind was filled only with the pleasure, and the idea of him filling your womb with his corrupting seed, becoming his infernal broodmare, giving him a legion of demonic children, being his pleasure toy day and night.

You came again, and again, as he fucked you for what seemed to be hours, and as the sun began to rise, when your womb could take no more and your body on the verge of giving out from pleasure, you felt his cum pour into your womb, his enormous cock pulsing the thick rivulets into your womb, knowing that without a doubt he was impregnating you.

Which just served to make you cum once more.

After that point, you lost consciousness, but awoke in a fine bed, with black silk sheets and a soreness that you couldn’t place.

Was it a dream?

The figure lying beside you was a handsome man, dark hair, a goatee which should have looked out of place, but seemed to suit his slumbering face.

There was no denying it though, this was the more human form of the demon that corrupted you.

With a smirk, you sought to touch his cock, and it began to harden as you lined it up to ride your demonic master.

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dawnagustd · 1 year

Text

keeps || jjk

⇝ author’s note: I’m shamelessly late but I couldn’t get this to post. Yeah, Jungkook’s live broke me and I had to write them. I hope you’ll still accept it since I’m like 3 hours late lol.

masterlist | permanent taglist form

follow the story: hours (main story) | the unholy drabble | nails drabble

11:21am You: Someone left this in my car. I wonder who it belongs to...

Jungkook laughs as he looks at the picture on his phone. It’s been almost two months, and you’re only just finding the beanie he may have or have not left beneath your backseat. Memories of the day it was tucked into the crevice replay in his mind.

“I couldn’t wait.”

He murmurs those words as his lips crash against yours.

You wrap your limbs around him in a needy embrace, drawing groans from his throat. He’s just happy you’re as excited to see him as he is to see you. Sure, it’s only been two days, but what can he say?

You’re addicting.

“Should we really do it here?” Your moans grow slightly louder when his hands start to explore your body over your clothes. “What if my coworkers come back from lunch early?”

Jungkook lifts his head momentarily to scan the parking garage. Besides a few vehicles closer to the elevator, this floor is mostly empty.

“We’re good. I’ll be quick. Promise.”

Returning his attention to you, he buries his face within the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as if it’ll be the only thing getting him by until the next time he sees you—and it will be.

“Fuck. I miss you, Jungkook,” you utter and he almost hops in the driver’s seat and takes you back to his place.

“I miss you too, love. That’s why I’m here.”

Don’t get him wrong. He’s happy you got a promotion but he can’t help but be selfish and wish you were able to come over as much as you used to. It’s not your fault at all, but he hopes you aren’t using work as an excuse for space. He’d totally get it if you just wanted him to back off a little. He can’t help how he feels about you, but he does care enough to value your boundaries.

As the heat begins to warm your bodies, clothing begins to shed. First your jackets, then anything extra that’s preventing you from accessing your most intimate parts. He gets rid of your pants first and then pulls down his jeans. He could care less about who has a view of his toned ass. He’s only here to give you what he knows you need.

“Let me have a little taste, okay?”

“Jungkook.”

“Please, just a little,” he pleads.

His doe eyes always make it hard for you to resist. Especially when it’s something you secretly want yourself.

“Fine. But hurry!”

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. He peels your panties away from your center and gasps as he watches the strings of arousal stretch and snap. He can’t help but tease you while he dips his finger in to scoop some of it up.

“Always a fucking mess,” he whispers.

“Don’t you start.”

Your words come out shaky, the neediness in your tone revealing how sexually frustrated you are. He’s not going to make you wait for it any longer.

He dives in, tasting your pussy and moaning like it’s a delicacy. Slurping and smacking noises fill his ears as he feasts. He’s in heaven, but reluctantly he has to pull away.

You whimper in disappointment at the loss, but he shushes you.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

He digs in his back pocket until he finds the condom he stashed in there in preparation for this moment. Your impatience has your hips lifting off the seat, bumping into his crotch. Your nails dig into his flesh when your pussy finally feels his cock waiting to slide into your entrance.

“Say my name if it feels good.”

Slowly sliding in, he can feel your walls expanding to let him in, but they grasp him like a vice when he bottoms out. His arms are trembling as he struggles to hover over you. However, when you pull him on top of you, he doesn’t resist. You moan his name into his ear like he asked you, and he’s never heard anyone say it so beautifully.

“Jungkook, I–”

You stutter, struggling to express how much you’re enjoying him buried in your guts.

“Feel good?” he asks, and you nod your head. “Want some more?”

You nod instantly, begging him to satisfy your cravings.

“Please… I just want you to fuck me.”

Your whining brings a smile to Jungkook’s face.

“I think I can do that.”

Your small SUV starts to rock as soon as he starts thrusting. The music playing through the stereo sets the tone, fueling his determination to ruin you in broad daylisght. He really didn’t think this through. There’s more room in his truck, but Jungkook didn’t have a second to spare. He’s on his lunch break too so this has to be quick so he can make it back to work in time.

Your moans become a little too loud so he leans in and conceals them with a kiss. It’s a gentle gesture, but it only makes you want more. As if he can get any closer, you tug on his strands to bring him closer, pushing his black beanie off of his head in the process. It falls on the car’s floor and becomes another random item tucked underneath your seat. Maybe one day you’ll need it, maybe you won’t. Who cares? It’s yours now; he’s forgotten about it.

He only has one thing on his mind.

“Hug me, baby.”

You never hesitate to do anything he asks, so your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms envelop him in your embrace. He can feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. Your walls are snug around his dick, but the grip only brings pleasure. It won’t be long now. He suddenly remembers the timer on his phone and he looks at the floor to see where he is on time.

Five minutes. He only needs three.

He shifts to a slightly different angle to hit the spot he knows will take you to your highest peak. He doesn’t even care if someone can hear you at this point. He’s just focused on making you feel good.

“Fuck. Jungkook, I have to–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t worry about me. I’m right behind you.”

Jungkook can feel you clenching around him, bracing yourself for what you both know is coming. His back burns from the way your nails are piercing through his t-shirt, but he refuses to lose the momentum he’s created.

When your words start to make no sense and your eyes roll back is when he knows you’re coming undone. You cry his name as your cunt pulses around his stiffened cock. He can barely thrust properly because you’ve gotten so tight around him. He bites the sleeve of his shirt as he tries desperately to hold on until you’re satisfied.

The moment finally comes when you let out a relieved sigh, your body relaxing. Jungkook comes seconds later, allowing the tightened coil in his stomach to finally snap. He shudders above you while you stroke his hair, telling him how good he feels. He’d tell you how good you’re making him feel right now if he could form any thoughts. His cum spills inside the condom while he’s buried deep within you.

Jungkook gives himself 30 seconds to calm his heart rate but then jumps into action. He slips out of you and grabs some wipes out of your center console. He didn’t even have to ask you where to find anything to clean you up; something told him you’re just always prepared.

“Did you really miss me?”

He hears your small voice break the silence and he turns to your exhausted figure.

“Yeah, why do you think I’m here?”

“Pussy,” you snort.

Jungkook laughs.

“Alright, true. But that was after I saw you.”

He steals a kiss from your cheek while you’re slipping your pants on, making you squirm away and giggle. He’s never been so hooked on someone. Just seeing you smile is enough for him.

“I have to go if I’m going to be on time but come to my truck. I brought you some lunch,” he says, looking around to make sure he picked up his mess. Really he’s trying to spend every moment he can with you. Who knows how long you’ll avoid him this time.

“I think about you, you know.”

Jungkook pauses as he opens the door and turns to you. He nods.

“I sure hope so,” he replies. “Because you’re always on my mind.”

Before he can get caught up in your beautiful smile, he hops out and reaches for your hand.

“Come on. I gotta get going.”

“My car smells like you. I don’t wanna leave,” you pout.

Jungkook sighs and strokes your hand with his thumb. “Just come over later, alright? Just for a little while, kay?”

Excitement fills him up when you nod. He’d jump for joy if he didn’t know you’d tease him.

“Okay. I’ll come.”

But you never came. It was another week and a half before he saw you again.

He’s held your hand many times during sex, but this felt so different. He still remembers the electricity racing through his veins from the bit of contact. That’s why his smile keeps growing despite how unsure he’s feeling about this whole relationship.

11:22am You: So… You want it back? Gonna have to take it;)

11:22am Jungkook: I don’t want any smoke with you, love. It’s yours.

He wonders if you’ll wear it or just toss it somewhere. It doesn’t matter. He just wants you to have it for reasons he isn’t even sure of.

11:23am You: Smells like you. Yup, she’s a keeper.

Jungkook scoffs.

“So are you, love,” he whispers.

He just hopes you even want to be.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfics #thekpopuniverse #btshoneyhive #kvanity #bangtansorciere #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #fic: hours #fic: keeps #sugakookitty

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minisugakoobies · 11 months

Note

ME AND NAMJOON AND HIM PINNING ME AGAINST THE WALL PLS 👀👀👀🙈

I combined these requests because they worked so perfectly together! Hope y'all don't mind 💕

Title: A Dangerous Game Pairing: Royal Advisor!Namjoon x Queen!Reader Genre: smut, forbidden romance, Royalty!AU Rating: M(18+) Warnings: groping, making out, a little light fingering, infidelity (reader has been forced into marriage with a horrible King)

"Quiet, love, or they'll hear you."

A shudder rolls through you as Namjoon whispers in your ear. He's right, of course. If you're any louder, the guards standing outside your chambers will hear and come investigate. They'll barge right through that door, swords swinging, not knowing that the tiny whimpers falling from your lips are cries of pleasure, not pain.

They won't care, either, if you're caught with the king's most trusted advisor's hands beneath your gown. It's a dangerous game the two of you are playing right now. And Namjoon appears to be winning, given the way he smirks at you while his dancing hands caress your breasts, thumbs flicking over your pert nipples.

"That's better," he sighs in relief when you fall silent. "Now, my Queen, tell me what you want."

What you want is for him to tear the nightgown from your body, throw you on your bed, and have his unholy way with you. That's not just what you want, it's what you need. But a lifetime of holding your tongue and doing as you're told, not as you please, makes it difficult to voice these desires.

"I - I want…" you begin, but falter when his palm skims over the swell of your bare belly. It's so wrong, the way he's touching you as if he has any right, any claim to your body. You belong to the King, that miserable old wretch who keeps you locked away in this room day and night, only ever allowing you to leave to perform your royal duties.

Fuck the King, a quiet voice in your mind hisses.

"Come, love, no need to be shy," Namjoon purrs. You love the way he looks at you. While the King views you as a duty to be done, no matter how much he repels you, Namjoon sees you as a person - and one to be treasured, at that. He's told you often enough that your presence in this palace and this realm is a gift - and now, as he smiles at you, you know he means it.

He steps closer, backing you towards the wall, trapping you against it. He dares to lower his lips to your bare neck, hot kisses blazing against your cold skin. Your room is always chilly this time of morning, but you don't care, basking in the heat of Namjoon's strong body as he leans into you.

"Do you wish to hear what I want?" he asks, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles, one by one. Relieved, you nod. "I want to explore your body… if you'll let me."

Despite your firmly pressed lips, another whine escapes you. Swiftly, he kisses you, hastily swallowing your noises. You fall into him, eyes closing, lost in the sensation of his wet tongue as it glides along yours. His left hand is still drifting lower, lower….

With a gasp, you break the kiss and glance down, watching as his hand disappears between your legs. He traces a finger through your sodden folds, back and forth, and you can't stop your hips from canting forward, seeking more of his touch.

"It appears that you want this too, my Queen. But I need to hear you say it." You're so distracted by his left hand that you don't even notice the right one is gripping your chin until he tips your head, forcing you to meet his gaze. His dragon eyes smolder as he licks his lips. "Words, love. I need to hear you say the words."

"T-take me. Namjoon." His expression darkens. It ignites a fire within you. "Now."

"As my Queen demands."

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

#namjoon smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #lovely moots #jooniesxbby

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mayolive-writes · 9 months

Text

Labret | Jungkook

Pairing: Dom!Jungkook x Sub!AFAB Reader

Summary: You surprise Jungkook with a new piercing. Needless to say, he likes it.

Wordcount: 957 Words

Genre: Smut, Established-Relationship, Drabble

Warnings: Unprotected sex (this is unholy behavior), jk is a tease (honestly what a bitch), jk also has all his ungodly piercings and tattoos, reader isn’t allowed to make any noise (rude), vaginal sex, pet names (baby, good girl, precious, bun), some breast play, edging, some fun banter near the end, jk may or may not have a thing for tats and piercings (not that we're surprised)

A/N: This is the Love Plaza Couple <3 This is set two years into their relationship! This is also the last piece I have prepared for this couple but there might be some more in the future, ya never know!

Enjoy!!

The Love Plaza | Moonlight Trampoline Adventure | Labret

Minors DNI

“Mmm, quiet baby.” Jungkook whispered softly against your lips. He had carefully positioned his mouth so that it only touched the corner of your lips, avoiding the new piercing in the center.

When you walked into his dorm that evening, ready to show off your new labret piercing, you hadn’t anticipated ending up like this, pressed firmly into Jungkook’s mattress as his hips moved rhythmically in and out of you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, intense enough to make you need more, but too weak to ease your hunger.

If anyone had told you two years ago that Jungkook would grow into such a bitch during sex, you would’ve actually stopped yourself from confessing to him. Where was the sweet, awkward Koo that was nervous and unsure? When did he turn into a monster with a full sleeve of tattoos and several new facial piercings?

Let’s face it, you didn’t actually hate it. And you'd be more than willing to get more piercings if this was the result.

“Koo—” you almost bite your lip mindlessly to silence yourself, but Jungkook is quick to prod your mouth open with his fingers.

“Baby, no, you’ll hurt yourself,” he feigns concern, “the others are here, so you’ll just have to be a good girl,” There it is. His new favorite phrase. A despicable trick he now had in his top hat of magic. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Quiet.” His tone is gentle, but his thrusts are teasing, leaving you desperate and breathless. You almost can’t hold back a whimper, looking desperately into his eyes as you grab for the pillow beneath you.

“I’m kinda annoyed that it’ll be a while til’ I can kiss you properly, but I like it,” another peck against the corner of your mouth, “I’ll have to pick a new spot for my kisses, won’t I?” His lips move slowly along your jaw, “maybe here…” up, grazing your neck, “or here…” further down to your collarbones, “you’d look cute if I left some marks here, don’t ya’ think?” He glances up at you, but you can’t find the voice to respond when his cock keeps slipping in and out of you tantalizingly.

“Koo—Koo please, I can’t.” You beg, knowing it will get you nowhere.

“What, you want my roommates to hear you? Want them to hear how good I fuck you? How pretty you always sound with me?”

You find the strength to vehemently protest, “N-no, you know I don’t like others hearing.”

“Then just hold on tight baby, no sound. Promise I’ll make my girl feel so good, yeah?”

And Jungkook makes good on his promise. Minutes of you holding onto the pillow for dear life, legs wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s waist pass by quickly. As your orgasm creeps closer, it becomes harder and harder to keep silent. The urge to close your mouth or bite your lip is intense, but you breath heavily, helpless. Meanwhile, Jungkook keeps fucking into you, gradually going harder and harder, knocking the air from your lungs, His hands roam your body, and his lips focus on the corners of your mouth, kissing, licking, sucking on any part that isn’t near the sensitive flesh of your fresh piercing. “Fuck baby, I won’t be able to keep my mouth off you once it’s healed—” he breathes into your mouth, “so precious.”

You’re on the edge now, ready to fall over. Breathing heavily, the ability to keep your voice at bay weakens. A soft whine escapes. You quickly cut it off, but immediately lose control again when Jungkook’s lips attach to your breasts, tongue feeling around your nipple before latching on. A quiet moan that just keeps coming and coming. Soon, all you can do is whimper at every touch, every small movement.

“B-bun—ah—fuck—” you’re barley audible, “I can’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry— “

“Oh, baby, it’s okay.” He reassures you, continuing to fuck into you. You’re about to break. You’re seconds away.

Right.

There.

But he stops.

The bastard stops.

Jungkook smiles devilishly, “We’ll just try again, precious."

-----------------------------

“Just like that, such a good Good girl.”

You’re on the edge again. Finally. You almost lose control of yourself, but you stubbornly remain silent. Jungkook can tell when you start to pull on him more and more that you’re only moments away from cumming. One last hard thrust breaks you, releasing your high, and with it, strangled and low moans release from your throat.

“K-koo, bun—”

Relief. The feeling of his cum releasing into you causes another sensation that makes your spine shiver.

You ride out your highs together, letting your breathing calm and letting your bodies become grounded again.

“You’re a prick.” You complain.

“What do you mean, I said I liked the piercing! And I let you cum, didn’t I?

“Oh, fuck off!”

“You broke the rules, babe.” Giggling, he shifts positions, pulling you on top of him, “It’s not my fault you can’t keep quiet, precious.” He leans in nuzzling your neck, “How bout’ we try another position?”

Taglist: @blairscott @hoseokteardrop @kookiesnpie

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anxieteeeaa · 1 year

Text

UNHOLY

WARNINGS: breeding, stripper, cheating, creampie, slut-shaming, name calling

“Mommy don’t know daddy’s getting hot, at the body shop. doing something unholy”

(body shop- slang. a sex worker, the sex worker can be defined as “a body shop”. This also has a double entendre, because there is a real club that is also called “The Body Shop”)

“ Alright folks. We have a special girl coming out tonight. She’s one of my favorites, someone you all know and love. Here’s the only and only Ginger Snap with a special performance. Make some noise!’ The Emcee cheered before leaving the stage. The lights dimmed and the music started to play. For the first few seconds nothing happened, people were starting to get impatient, especially Harry. He was about to get up.

And there she was.

“Mummy don’t know Daddy’s getting hot, at the body shop. Doing something unholy.”

Her body glided down the pole with ease. The crowd went wild as her body arched as if she was in a world of ecstasy.

Her ginger hair was smoothed into two pigtails. Her bodice hugged her figure perfectly as she swayed her body to the beat. Her moves fluctuant and with ease. She slowly removed herself from the pole and got on her hands and knees, moving to the bass with rhythm while she crawled towards her customers.

And that’s when she saw him.

With a smirk on her lips she slowly made her way over to one of her regulars, but her eyes stayed on harry.

A lucky, lucky girl. She got married to a boy like you. She'd kick you out if she ever, ever knew

He licked his lips as he examined her body, his blood boiling as someone else touched what belonged to him. She swayed her hips and slowly grinded on him, pressing her breasts in his face causing the customer to groan and grab her hips feverishly. Harry knew what she was doing. And she did it with purpose. She knew how possessive he was, especially when it came to claiming what’s his.

She whispered something in the man’s ear before turning over and bending down so he could get a good look at her ass and figure.

The crowd was going wild. Ginger returned to the stage where she swung around the pole and slowly dropped down to the floor doing an open split.

He's sat back while she's droppin' it. She be poppin' it. Yeah, she put it down slowly.

Bills flew everywhere as she arched her back twirled her hips as she went in circles. One guy reached his hand out on stage with a twenty dollar bill. Ginger gladly took the money and sucked on his finger before letting go with a pop.

Harry was fuming.

Once the song was over Ginger collected her bills, stuffing a few in her breasts for show before blowing the customers a few kisses and leaving the stage.

“Let’s give it up for Ginger Snap everyone! With a body like that she’ll make me do something unholy.” The emcee joked causing the customers to agree and chuckle.

Harry wasn’t amused and refused to hear anymore of this nonsense, so he paid his bill and left lobby.

You know everyone is talkin' on the scene. I hear them whisperin' 'bout the places that you've been. And how you don't know how to keep your business clean.

He headed straight to the back, a star was on her door with “Ginger Snap” printed in red. The security guard gave him a nod before letting him enter. He already knew who Harry was. They all did.

“What was that?” He questioned as he slammed the door shut. She wasn’t startled at the slightest. In fact, she was amused. “What’re you talking about?” She looked up at him with curious eyes as she fixed her makeup. “It’s my job. And it’s not like you’re single or anything.” She reapplied her lip liner before pushing her hair up a bit. Once she was satisfied with her look she stood up to face him. “And besides that. People are already talking about you coming around here.” she twisted her fingers nervously. “And you’re married. You shouldn’t be hanging around here.”

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot. At the body shop. Doin' somethin' unholy

“What my wife doesn’t know.” He drew their bodies closer together? their lips barely touching. “Won’t” he pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

“Hurt.”

Another

“Her.”

Another.

He lifted her chin and smashed their lips together, tongues colliding as they removed each others clothing.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me doll.” Harry chuckled against her lips as he removed her bralette. “New you’d stay my little fuck doll. My little toy to do whatever I please with.” A soft gasp escaped her lips as she felt his warm tongue wrap around her nipple, her buds hardening against his mouth as he suckled like a child hungry for their mother’s milk.

“No hickeys” She pleaded out as she felt a sharp bite. He looked at her with dark pupils.”Don’t tell me what to fucking do. You’re my property.” He growled before going back to his work. “This ass.” his gripped it firmly, “Mine”. “This neck” he placed a strong hold on it and squeezed, knocking the air out of it. “Mine”.

“And this cunt” he curled two fingers into her hot center causing her knees to buckle. “You already know I own this pretty little cunt. It’s all fucking mine.” She nodded submissively, eyes rolling in the back of her head as she whimpered and pleaded for his fingers to move faster.

“Why should I do that hm?” He whispered. “You’re just a filthy little whore shaking your ass on every men in sight. Showing them my doll.” They’re not the ones fucking you until you pass out. They’re not the ones filling all those holes with cum that drips out of your pussy. Are they?” He spits.

She mumbled incoherently as she tried to focus on his words, her core dripping as she struggled to breathe. “N-no, N-no”

“N-no? N- Is that all you can fucking say? Speak up when i’m talking to you doll. You’re my property. Nobody else’s And I want everyone else to know that.” He let go of her throat harshly before he removed his fingers. “Now.” He licked her sweetness with slow licks before sitting himself in her chair and unbuckling his belt.

“Give me my own private show doll.” He patted his lap and she immediately walked over. “That’s a good girl.” He praised. She bent over and had her backside towards him. Touching her toes, she slowly caressed her body.

“Pinch your nipples” she did as he said, a small moan escaping her lips.

“Come sit on my lap doll. Slowly.” She simply followed orders and slowly placed her self into his lap, a small groan escaped their lips and her hot core sat on his throbbing cock.

You can watch me back it up, I'll be gone in the A.M. (Yeah)

“That’s it.” He teased the tip of his cock on her entrance. “Say please.” He demanded.

“Please.” She pouted. “Please what?” He tapped his cock on her pussy a few times before inserting the tip in her before sliding it right back out.

“Please fuck me sir. I’ll be a good doll. I only belong to you. Please just have your way-“ She was cut off by him plunging his dick into her, a wet moan released from the both of them. “Fuck you’re so tight” He gasped as he steadied himself.

“Only for you sir.” she sobbed. “Fuck it.” He pushed her down on the ground so she was on her hands and knees. “You wanna act like a greedy little bitch i’m gonna treat you like one.”

“You. Are. Mine!” He thrusted each word into her, making sure she would remember who she belonged to.

“I don’t care about my wife. You belong to me. You’re mine. And I’ll make sure everybody knows that.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks as the pit in her stomach grew bigger and bigger. “God yes! Fuck me harder.” She pleaded as she thrusted backwards to meet his thrusts.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my cock. You know how much you need me.” He breathed as he laid a few smacks on her ass.

“Come on.” He rubbed her clit vigorously, “Cum for me. Show me how good my cock makes you feel.”

“Show everyone that only I can make you feel this good.”

And that’s all she needed. Her body quaked as her orgasm took over her body. “That’s it, show me how good my cock makes you feel.” He groaned.

Her body was trembling, tears streaming down her face as she crashed onto the floor.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He chuckled as he continued his thrusts. “Not until I mark you.”

“Awe you’re sensitive?” He fake pouted. “Too fucking bad, should’ve thought about that before acting like such a slut.” He breathed.

“Oh fuck me.” He threw his head back and howled as he came deep inside her, his thrusts not slowing down to make sure he fucked her nice and deep.

He let out a breathy sigh before pulling out of her, watching as she stayed crumbled on the ground.

“Next time.” He breathed out. “Think about the consequences before you decide to try and fuck around with somebody else knowing you’re mine.”

And he left her on the floor, fucked out and sinful, waiting for his next return.

and she couldn’t wait.

Oh-ee-oh-ee-oh, he left his kids at

Ho-ee-oh-ee-ome so he can get that

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot

At the body shop.

Doin' somethin' unholy

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ THISn Feel free to like, comment and share! Requests are always open!!

#harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #smut #cheater!harry #sub!y/n #soft/mean dom!harry #dom harry styles #dom!harry #dom!h

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voxofthevoid · 7 months

Text

This should have been another Dickfest Wednesday, but well, Chapter 236 derailed my plans...considerably. I got bitten by a plot bunny (by three actually, including the curse!Gojou one), and since it doesn't seem like I can get back to my usual JJK madness until I get this out of my system (unfondly remembering the time I had to do the same after Marvel's Endgame fucked up Steve's character arc), Dickfest Wednesdays are now suspended in favor of Time Travel Fuck-It Wednesdays.

Bit of a mouthful, but ah well.

The premise is that post-236 Gojou time-travels to the past, around two years pre-canon, and sets about trying to avoid the doomed future he came from in the most unhinged way possible—including raising Yuuji like a lamb to the slaughter the way he refused to commit to in canon. Whether it works out like he plans is another matter.

He stares for a beat longer at the groaning body at his feet before surveying the others scattered around the alley. Everyone’s alive and breathing. No one’s conscious. Yuuji doesn’t do this usually, doesn’t let it get this far. But he’s never had to, the delinquents and wannabe-gangsters running away after they take a few of his punches.

___

A low, long whistle makes Yuuji freeze from head to toe.

But this was a bigger group, and one of them had a knife. They were confident, and Yuuji was angry, and now he knows what sharp metal feels like bending in his fist while cutting through flesh.

They’re all still breathing, all still unconscious; the whistle came from none of them.

Yuuji whips around, fists up in a fighting stance. The left one hurts, the long cut dug into the meat of his palm a wet pulse. It’s sticky and hot too, blood seeping out from between his fingers and trickling down his wrist, but Yuuji knows he can fight with it. He already has.

It’s dark already, a flickering streetlight barely lighting up the mouth of the alley.

The man who melts out of the shadows seems to glow with his own unholy light.

Maybe it’s the hair—the purest white Yuuji’s ever seen on a person. It’s nothing like the grey that’s taken over what’s left of his grandpa’s hair, but the man is clearly not old enough to have started greying anyway. He’s young. He’s older than Yuuji though, clearly an adult.

Shit, it’s an adult.

“They’re alive!” Yuuji blurts out. “I didn’t—”

—kill them, he doesn’t finish. Even thinking the words feels surreal. Of course he didn’t. Of course he wouldn’t.

The man smiles like he heard them anyway, his strangely glossy lips curling up into a broad grin. It’s friendly enough. Yuuji can’t quite bring himself to relax, though he brings his arms down, letting them hang loose and ready at his sides.

“I know,” says the stranger. “You don’t seem the killing kind.”

Yuuji swallows thickly. He opens his mouth and closes it, not sure what to say. There’s the urge to defend himself—to explain and excuse. But none of it feels really honest, even when they’re true.

They tried to stab him, but he snapped the knife in half and drove his fist into the would-be stabber’s gut hard enough to send him flying into the alley wall.

They cornered him, but he saw it coming and let it happen.

They started it, but Yuuji’s been wandering around after school for hours, winding around the shadiest parts of town with the full knowledge of what would come calling if he just lingered long enough.

There’s no one waiting for him at home, again. His grandpa’s been spending longer and longer at the hospital, and Yuuji knows that, one day soon, he won’t come home at all. His grandpa won’t admit it. The doctors and nurses all talk around it. But he knows.

“It’s late, you know,” the man says, like he’s read Yuuji’s mind. “A kid like you shouldn’t be out at this hour. Who knows what kind of trouble will come calling.”

A throaty groan sounds from behind Yuuji, and he can’t help glancing over his shoulder. The guy who made the noise is still on the ground, curling into an even tighter fetal position.

He looks back at the stranger and finds his grin has widened into an unsettling slash. He raises a hand, the pad of his index finger settling on the bridge of his glasses. It’s lowered, exposing eyes that seem light and bright even at this distance.

Yuuji stands very still as he and the bodies behind him are surveyed.

“But trouble’s already found you,” the man says. “Did you fight them alone?”

“…Yes.”

“Impressive.” He sounds sincere, which really isn’t what Yuuji’s expecting. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Yuuji says on reflex; his throbbing hand calls him out on the lie, but Yuuji bites his tongue.

The man doesn’t seem fooled, his grin turning crooked. “Don’t lie now. There’s no shame in getting a little beat up fighting…hm, six on one, is it? They look older too. You’re, what, a middle-schooler?”

Yuuji’s tempted to lie. He can pass as a high-schooler if he has to. But he’s also wearing his school uniform.

He nods.

The man takes a step forward.

Yuuji steps back, freezing when the heel of his shoe brushes something that flinches away with a groan.

A blink, and the man is there, kneeling in front of Yuuji.

He’s freakishly tall. It was clear when he was standing, but it’s somehow more obvious now when he’s on his knees in front of Yuuji and only barely looking up at him. This close, even in the shadows cloaking the alley, Yuuji can tell that his eyes are blue—the kind of blue he’s only seen on a screen, gleaming with the colors of the sea.

It knocks the breath right out of his lungs.

And he doesn’t react in time to stop the man from grabbing his injured hand and raising it to eye level.

There’s another low whistle. Yuuji flinches, pulling his hand back. It doesn’t budge. The stranger’s grip is deceptively light, long fingers curled delicately around Yuuji’s wrist, but there’s absolutely no give to it.

“Hey,” Yuuji croaks. “Let go.”

“That’s a nasty cut,” comes the reply, like the guy didn’t even hear Yuuji. “You should get that looked at.”

“Let go.”

A stronger pull, Yuuji letting up on some of his typical restraint.

His hand still doesn’t budge.

And that—that’s never happened before.

The man looks like he barely noticed the protest or the resistance, examining Yuuji’s hand with those weirdly bright eyes of his. They flicker up, meeting Yuuji’s stare and crinkling at the corners.

Yuuji’s throat clicks dry when he swallows.

The man’s free hand dips into his pocket, and Yuuji tenses on instinct, keenly aware of what happened just minutes earlier when a stranger’s hand did the same, but the man just pulls out a handkerchief, its white nearly as bright as the hair on his head.

Yuuji clues in a second before the fabric touches his skin.

“Wait!”

The man freezes, blinking quizzically up at Yuuji. “I’m just going to clean it. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

“That’s not…” Yuuji shakes his head, tugging at his hand again and somehow surprised when it still doesn’t move. “It’ll get dirty.”

The man laughs, a sharp bark of a sound. The grin his mouth settles into is discomfitingly sharp. “You really do have the strangest priorities.”

The fabric is pressed to the cut, the blood sopped up with light, gentle pats. It stings, but that’s barely noticeable. Yuuji’s more concerned about the dark stain spreading across the white cloth. His blood looks more black than red.

It’s a sweet but useless gesture. The more blood the man wipes away, the more spurts from the cut. Yuuji’s whole hand is sticky and hot.

Then the man sighs and presses the handkerchief to the wound, hard enough to make Yuuji hiss through clenched teeth. That earns him the full focus of those bright blue eyes, and maybe blood loss is getting to Yuuji, but he could swear those eyes are actually, literally glowing.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“Gojou Satoru, at your service,” he answers, both hands now wrapped tightly around Yuuji’s wounded one. “Do you know who I am?”

“No?”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“No,” Yuuji says firmly. “Why would I?”

“Why indeed,” Gojou echoes softly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“That’s all you’ve been doing this whole time!”

Gojou chuckles. His hands are warm around Yuuji’s, burning as hot as the cut.

“That’s fair,” Gojou says. “This isn’t like those questions though. It’s very important.”

Yuuji swallows again. His heart is beating faster than it did during the fight, and there’s something in the air that lines the insides of his throat with serrated ice each time he drags in a breath.

He doesn’t like this.

Whatever Gojou’s about to ask, the question blazing in those eyes and tucked behind his smile—it’s nothing Yuuji wants to hear. He’s not sure where that certainty comes from, but he knows it’s only matched by the certainty that he needs to hear it all the same.

“What is it?” he whispers.

Gojou’s eyes bore into him, their blue living and lashing.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he asks, “do you want to save the world?”

#goyuu #jjk #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #wip wednesday #jjk snippets #my fic #fic: everything burned

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honeyynymphh · 1 year

Text

| The Mark of the Beast |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E chapter word count: 1.6k chapter 2 of 2 tags/warnings: dom copia, he's a dickhead, fingering, oral sex chapter one

An imposter has apparently been hiding in the abbey, and there is only one way to prove you're part of the congregation. And that is to submit yourself to an examination to find Lucifer's mark upon your body.

read on ao3

I watched him sweep out of the office without another glance in my direction. I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t sit here all night. Quickly I put my clothes back and on shaky legs left his office. I didn’t feel particularly hungry and so I just wandered over to the other side of the abbey to the dormitories. When I pushed through the door, Sister Rosaline was there lounging on her bed and reading some trashy magazine.

“So you’re not an imposter then,” she said, flicking a page as I walked in.

I scowled at her. I was not in the mood.

“No,” I snapped.

Rosaline tossed the magazine on the bed and sat up.

“No need to get your panties in a twist!” she said. “Where was it? Your mark.”

“On my…thigh,” I said, trying to keep calm. I was not telling her where it was exactly. “It was mortifying.”

She shrugged. “It’s just Imperator.”

“It wasn’t,” I said, sitting down on my bed and dropping my face into my hands.

“Huh?”

I scowled at her again. “She was called out! It was the Cardinal.”

“Copia?” asked Rosaline.

“Yes.”

“Ugh, he’s weird,” she said. “Oh well, you probably gave him the highlight of the week.” Rosaline snorted. “Heaven, probably the highlight of his year seeing a pretty girl in her underwear.”

I just made a non-committal noise. I wanted to tell her, but I also didn’t want to breathe a word. He hadn’t done anything, not really. How could I even admit to how easily he had worked me up? Rosaline would probably laugh at me.

“Brother Tristan reckons he used to be a eunuch,” continued Rosaline with another laugh, “and that’s why he doesn’t attend any of the orgies or accept anyone’s invitation.”

“I highly doubt it, Rosaline,” I said.

Maybe I should have just gone to dinner instead of coming here. I didn’t know what to do, I still felt on edge and Rosaline was still talking about Copia.

“Maybe his dick’s just really tiny,” she was saying. “Would explain his foul personality.” She sat there thoughtfully. “I did try to fuck him once, I thought it’d be funny. He told me to fuck off.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t really listening to her. I kept thinking about his mouth on my thigh and wondering what he would have done if I had been bold enough to move forward. Or if I had grabbed his head and brought his face fully against myself. Surely he would have said something cutting and rude to me as he did to Rosaline. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it, I shifted awkwardly on the bed.

“Shame it wasn’t Papa Terzo though,” said Rosaline with a dreamy sigh. “I was wearing my best lingerie today. Sister said it was unnecessarily pink and frilly. Tristan said Copia was so rude about his fucking boxershorts.” She laughed. “Though I would have made fun of Tristan for wearing Pokemon boxers too. Did he make fun of yours?”

“Oh, umm no?,” I muttered coming back to myself. “Did…did Tristan say anything about his mark being checked if it was real? Did Sister check yours?”

“With the unholy water?” asked Rosaline, grabbing her magazine back off the bed. “Yeah. It’s not like she was going to perform osculum obscenum.” She let out a short laugh as she flipped the magazine back open. “And Copia is certainly not going to—imagine!”

It was with a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach that I asked, “what is that?”

“Kiss of the Obscene,” said Rosaline with a wave of her hand. “You have to kiss the mark with obscene intent. It’s very old-fashioned. Not very modern says Sister.” Rosaline sighed dreamily. “I wouldn’t say no if it was Papa doing it though.”

I hummed distractedly in agreement, getting off my bed and wringing my hands together. Why had he done that? The bastard! Was it because I was new and wouldn’t know any better? I could understand why nobody liked him much, he was infuriating. Unholy water! He hadn't needed to touch me!

I barely heard Rosaline asking me where I was going as I stormed out of our room. The nerve of that man to do such a thing! I had been so nervous and he had done nothing to make me feel comfortable—he had gone out of his way to make me feel the opposite! Dinner must have ended as I passed a few siblings heading back to their rooms but mostly I hurried through the halls unheeded.

When I found myself standing at his office door, the righteous anger had somewhat faded away. What was I going to say? I should have thought about it more.

“Either come in or leave,” came his voice from the other side of the door.

Sucking in a breath, I entered and tried to shut the door with a bang. But it must have had some mechanic that made it close with a gentle click which just angered me even more. The Cardinal was standing at a bookshelf with a small book in hand. He snapped it closed when he saw me.

“Problem, Sister?” he said, a devious little smile tugging at the corner of his lips

“What you did to me was perverse!” I said hotly.

He moved towards me then until he was only about a foot away and I resisted the urge to take a step back. I was not going to let him intimidate me.

“Are you upset because I didn’t flick you with unholy water like everyone else,” he asked, “or because I didn’t flick my tongue over that needy cunt of yours?”

My whole body flushed and I dropped my gaze. So much for my defences. I shook my head and glared back up at him.

“Well?” he said.

“You deliberately made me uncomfortable,” I managed to say.

“Answer the question, dolce.”

“You did it on purpose!” I did not sound very controlled. But it was hard to remain calm with that smirking face looming in front of me.

“I did.” He moved even closer. “I didn’t know where your mark would be though, that was a delightful discovery. And how fun it was to watch you squirm.”

I couldn’t help but take another step back. I didn’t expect him to admit to it! My back hit the closed door with a thump. He had such a smug look on his face that it just irritated me even further.

“You’re perverse!”

He laughed. “Yes, you said that. And you’re only saying that because I didn’t touch you where you wanted me to.” He moved so close to me that I felt the edge of his cassock brush against me. “Tell me, Sister, is that pussy still wet?”

It was. I suddenly couldn’t open my mouth though, I was feeling too overwhelmed by him and every word indignant word I had wanted to say had faltered.

“Lift up your habit,” he commanded.

I blinked at him in surprise but my hands were already moving of their own accord, gripping the fabric and lifting it up as he dropped to his knees. My chest was pounding and my breath faltered when I felt his hands grip the side of my panties and pull them down to my ankles.

“Well, Sister, clearly I was wrong,” he said smoothly and I felt his hot breath against my thigh, making me shiver. A firm hand gripped my thigh. “You are definitely no pious little princess, eh?”

Like a snake he moved forward fast and licked along the inside of my thigh, tongue swiping across my mark again and making it burn. I couldn’t help but moan at the hot burst of it as it ignited every nerve in my body. It quickly turned into a string of whimpers when I felt his tongue flicking against my folds.

My hands flew out to grip his head, fingers finally getting to touch his hair. It was soft but I was barely paying attention, that nose of his was pressed against my swollen clit and he was tasting me like a starving man. The feel of his moustache tickled and it made my toes curl in my shoes. When I felt him slide a gloved finger inside me I nearly lost my balance, but his other hand held me tightly by my hip. Another finger joined the first and was stretching me as I panted above him. His fingers pumped out of my soaked cunt while his mouth latched onto my clit. Arousal was building within me and I had been so on edge that I was already so close. My fingers were tugging at his hair and there was no stopping me from grinding against his fingers and mouth.

I whined when his mouth left my clit but he was merely moving to suck on my mark again. The intense burn made me cry out but it only made the pleasure more intense. I could already feel my legs starting to buckle as the tension began to tighten and my walls were already starting to flutter around his fingers. Too quickly I was already over the edge, pleasure rolling over my body as I came hard. I could feel the sweat on my back and the way my habit was clinging to it in uncomfortable clumps but I didn’t care.

Looking down at him in a pleasured daze I could see his mouth was slick with my come, the paint smudged across his face as he smirked up at me. My breathing was still coming out in ragged breaths but I managed to slow it down enough to speak.

“Are you going to show me your mark, Cardinal?”

The man stood and I watched as he slowly removed the pellegrina before unbuttoning the many buttons of his cassock.

“Are you going to flick me with unholy water, dolce?” he asked

I shook my head. “I think you may be right and the old ways are better, Cardinal.”

He locked the door.

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #this is pretty bad sorry but I just wanted it done #it didnt work how i wanted at all 🙃#i would like to come to this idea another time #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #my-writing #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #fic: mark of the beast

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polteergeistt · 8 months

Text

so. sugar. yes. what if III gave Vessel a massive boner. what if Vessel wants to make him pay. what if he chokes him. what then.

nsfw, choking, degradation kink, ves being pissed and sadistic below the cut

Oh fuck.

Vessel almost jumped off III. The bassist's sly hands slithered where they shouldn't have been, and he knew it. He was proud of himself. So so proud to have made the singer's pants feeling too tight. Vessel tried to hide it as much as he could without seeming suspicious. He placed himself where the spotlight wouldn't shine on that area of his body, he made his cloak swing around a bit more, but he could see in the expression of the people on the front row that he wasn't fooling anyone. He looked at III, and he almost lost it. The sheer glee in his stupidly amused eyes made him burn with rage, and at the same time worsened the situation. It took him an impressive amount of self control to not jump at III's throat and make him cum his pants on stage. He calmed himself down, glad that the bassist was wise enough not to be close to him. The shudder that escaped his lips and that the mic picked up probably set his mind.

"Just you wait." Vessel thought to himself. "I'll get that fucking smirk off your fucking face."

And he did.

As soon as the show was over and the members of the band were off the stage, Vessel grabbed III by the collar and trapped him in his changing room with himself. He pushed him against the wall and snarled :

"I bet you were giggling your ass off, you bastard."

III didn't even try to deny it. He cackled and nodded.

"Yeah, I w-"

Vessel's hand cut him off, gripping on his throat. He pushed him into the wall as III reached for his forearm.

"You're gonna regret this."

"Yeah sure I will."

This was too much. III was known for being a complete brat, but he was pushing Vessel too far. He pulled his collar down and dug his fingernails in the soft unpainted flesh of his throat. III hissed in pain. The pride in his eyes left, and a smile bloomed on Vessel's lips. III squirmed in his grasp. Unholy noises of helplessness barely broke the barrier of his lips, and the rest was just vibrations going through Vessel's arm. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this so much, but it somehow felt satisfying to have the taller man panting. Vessel was about to release him, thinking that he had gotten enough, but something against his thigh distracted him.

"My, my..."

III was rock hard in his pants. Vessel squeezed a little harder, earning a strangled moan, and a spot appeared on the tent of his pants. Vessel chuckled, his mind going at a thousand miles per hour, debating on the following course of action. Among all the scenarios he had imagined, the choice was easy to make.

"How the tables have turned." Vessel whispered to III's ear in a sugary tone. "You're a mess, so desperate. Tell me what you are desperate for."

With Vessel's hot breath on his ear, his tight grip around his throat, the look in his eyes and his request, no, order, III felt like he could melt right there. His eyes rolled in the back of his skull. His hips bucked into nothing. A weak moan left his lips. Vessel was right, he was desperate. And now he had to tell him what he wanted.

"Your... On my... In..."

"You're gonna have to speak more clearly, darling, I don't quite understand you."

The fucker. III gulped loudly, trying to find his words.

"Anything, just please, touch me." He panted. "Make me cum, please."

Vessel tilted his head, acting like he was really thinking hard about it, but it was all mockery. He placed his face right next to III's ear, in such manner that he couldn't see him and had to look over his shoulder. The pression on his throat was impossibly more arousing. III could feel himself twitch in his pants, needy for friction.

"You think I'll just give you something nice ? You think I'll treat how you want after how dirty you did me back there ? I'm gonna take you to the hotel and fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit for a week. You will scream so loud all the neighbours will know my name."

This was too much for the poor man. He couldn't take it anymore. He came with a pathetic cry. Vessel finally let him go and he fell to his knees, coughing his lungs out. The singer simply stood upon him and watched as he tried to steady his messed up breathing. When he looked up, he was slowly shaking his head. III was a wreck with his red eyes and jizzed pants. Simply pathetic.

"Come on, we gotta go." Vessel sighed.

III thought that he would just walk away for a second, but he offered his hand. III accepted it and Vessel helped him get up. He didn't let go during the ride to the hotel. He knew that, as soon as the door of the hotel room closed behing the both of them, that it would be a long night.

#sleep token #sleep token band #sleep token vessel #vessel #vessel sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token smut #poltergeist writes #kinky stuff

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thewrittingpan · 10 months

Text

Painting Lies 4

(Shalnark, Feitan, Phinks x Reader)

This will be the last chapter on my Tumblr but hopefully not the last chapter! All future chapters will be posted on my Ao3 and I will try to at least announce them on my tumblr. Remember TW/CWs for Gore, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping, Trauma, Mental Heath Episodes and Issues, and more.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The air was cold, arguably warmer than the bulkhead doors, but still cold. No matter what you wore, the cold front would have torn through the layers and stripped you bare. You held your cat against your chest, shivering as you rubbed your hands over his fur.

The cat was unbothered by the cold, but his eyes were wide so much so that the irises were nearly impossible to notice. He mewed and purred, not squirming or trying to jump away from your grasp. Big eyes traced the leaves falling down, there was an overwhelming ecstasy from the outdoor air.

It’s relieving to not feel the pounding pressure of the three men, yet like a specter you starred unmoving. It was hard to know what you were thinking, everything you thought turned to white noise, lightly buzzing in your ears. The longer you stood the harder you breathed, the thoughts may have been too fast for you to understand consciously, but you finally ran forwards. You darted into the trees stopping for the briefest of moments at the edge of them, you had no idea what you were doing but you didn’t think about it, you couldn’t. Part of you had known that if you stopped you would have become too consumed with fear to move in either direction. Even a fool would have made a decision.

There was no way to know if they had seen you leave, your unaware shock had left you unaware and panicking. They could have been completely unaware, could be right behind you snapping at your heels. You kept picturing them as monsters as you ran, images flashing like strobe lights, fangs, claws, scales, veanom, blood drooling from their teeth. Even though you couldn't prove that it was real or imagined, it still haunts you and drags you fumbling through the woods. Staying may have been better, running may get you killed but, oh how nice it was to feel the cold grass against your feet.

Your soul was rejuvenated, reconnecting with the earth, your lungs may have burned with your nose and cheeks, but our desperation and franticness would keep you warm, hopefully for long enough. Still you clung to the cat, who didn’t seem to care about the world you were dashing by. Your eyes burned, you cried and sobbed into the cat’s fur.

This running, regardless of how it ends, set you free. For the briefest of minutes you were free and away from them. You had a true moment of peace, you were released from the stress, not a single stumble or faultier in your step took it away from you. When your energy inevitably wore down you slumped against a tree, pressing yourself as far into it as you could. This one luckily enough, was large and the trunk caved in an almost den-like way. While absolutely not ideal to rest, you gave in and sat down, quickly catching your breath and wiping the dried crust from your crying away.

The stiff but surprisingly warm den left you sighing, as you curled up into a ball, tucking yourself in as your body heat warmed up the surrounding space. The sweet fluff curled up into you covering your bare feet as you shoved your hands under your arms. It was all a daze, the thoughts had started to roll in, akin to a wave of wasps, something that was horrifying yet something you needed to inspect. It was strange laying in that tree, you were so scared of being found, so frightened of being alone, that it all melted away until it was you and the cat. His unholy amount of fur rubbed off on you, shedding across the trunk, sticking to your skin and clothes. It felt just for a moment as your eyes closed, that everything was normal back home, at your real home.

You rested there for a short while, not fully asleep, but hovering in a semi-aware state. Relaxed enough that your breathing was slow and your heart steadily beat like it was singing a baby to sleep. Something in you knew that you couldn’t collapse into a proper sleep, even though your body longed for it. Even clinging to the cat wasn’t enough to calm you down soon enough, and as the night drew ever closer you sniffled into his neck and wiped your tears with your sleeves.

You lay there blinking up at the sky. It faded from blue to a pale purple, the clouds rolled across the sky, dragging leaves off the trees in their wake. They were wispy and light; they traveled like a breeze, or a dancer gliding across the ballroom floor. It was stunning, regardless of the way your limbs hung limp and you were so cold you hardly were able to move. That sky made you feel warm, it carried warmth through you, kissing away frost nipped fingers and toes. It gently cried against your cheeks with snowdrops.

Snow, you liked watching it fall. It set the tone for great times of closeness. Swaddled up at a fire or at least with a warm mug of tea, coffee, or hot chocolate. You longed for that warmth, the blissful orange glow that crackled and giggled as you turned pages of a book. Fuzzy blankets, loving arms around your waist, holding you against their chest. Wool socks of faux fur slippers. Overused seasonal peppermint, spicy cinnamon, cranberry jams. Something so simple stretched on and pulled from a moment to a feeling that felt like a lifetime worth of love. Being tucked in by someone who loves you. The meowing of your cat screaming for affection.

Being tucked in?

Your cat screaming?

The sky didn’t look that purple anymore, it looked black. Had you fallen asleep? It’s so cold too, why is that? Why are the stars so close? Why are they drifting away with the breeze? What’s on you? Who is there? You thought you were alone?

“Sweet boy?” You called for your cat faintly. Your soft spoken works yanked away with the wind.

It’s so warm? It’s firm? But why does your skin burn when it’s not touching the firm warmth? What is that firmness? Where are you? Where’s your tree? Where’s your bed? Where’s home? What made you leave? Why didn’t you think? Couldn’t you? Didn’t you have any rational thoughts? Any ounce of self preservation? We’re you a suicidal mess? Did you really think that you were smart? That you could escape, did you have a plan? Did you know why you left?

Was it the impulse of seeing the outdoors, maybe it was the grass and it’s aphrodisiac green that lured you away? Though it was hardly even green now, the cold was rotting it, suffocating it. Did you think that the grass felt sympathy for you, or were you just trying to feel someone’s sympathy? Why couldn’t you decide between abuse or neglect? Which is better? Would you rather be that man you had abandoned or left alone in the woods, to suffer until something killed you either way? Even unaware of everything you couldn’t understand yourself or them. No matter how broken you couldn’t understand it, what did they gain?

“I don’t want to be killed too.” Your revelation came like a prayer.

You could see that man. He came in flashes when you thought for too long. When you closed your eyes you saw the wall of tools. You saw his blood, and broken bones. You saw the marks from where he was secured against the table. You whimpered as you thought about it, through the thick wall of cold you tried to pull yourself to move, to open your eyes, but you couldn’t not until that firm warm thing moved away, and you couldn’t feel it anymore.

The sky was dark and heavy with snow, you shook your head and rolled over, shielding your eyes from the snowflakes falling down. It was a gentle snow but the breeze was now a killer. Ripping away the thin memory of your clothes making you feel naked and bare, as you stumbled to your feet snaking like a newborn fawn. You hardly could tell which man it was, but one blond stood a few feet away looking for something, calling out.

You hobbled with strange limp like steps half looking like you were frozen at the knee and unable to move your legs fully, and the other over flexible trying to swing itself out of place. There was nothing, absolutely nothing more horrific to look at in a physically alright person. The adrenalin must have rotted away your insides, or frozen in your blood and in turn ruined your muscles until they were the same as frozen chicken legs. Your frozen hands clutched your new found warm jacket tucking yourself in it before it could melt out of your ice touched hands.

While the snow on the ground was light and thin, the winds swept it from the ground and blew it back up into the air. It was hard to see ahead of you, due to both trees and the newly spawned snow. You were in so much pain, your feet burned and you sobbed as you grabbed onto the man who had been near you. With the wind and your pain his voice had been ripped away from your ears, and though your eyes were blurred and filled with tears you falsely hoped it wasn’t one of the men.

There wasn’t a miracle where you were rescued by a stranger who had stumbled across you. You knew it too deep down in the haze. You had recognized the jacket, you knew the voice even though I’m the moment you couldn’t place it yourself. You knew your cat had cuddles up to him, even though he was shy around strangers. Perhaps you could have ran again and delayed the inevitable, ran again and died a slow death where you froze from the inside out during the first blizzard of the year.

Instead you collapsed into the arms of your largest kidnapper, one of the gentler ones even with his brutality you hadn’t gotten unlucky enough to meet. You couldn’t see his eyes, the pain and heartbreak that shattered him again after the momentarily soft gaze full of care and devotion. He scooped you up into his arms refusing to let you down again, regardless of if you asked or not. He walked forwards screaming out to the other two men, as a mewling cat screamed out about the injustice of the cold and his fear for you.

You kept drifting like snow, awake then asleep, awake again, and asleep. To you it felt like slow blinks, where your eyes were lightly glued together for a few moments until you worked up enough strength to rip them open again, just for the cycle to continue. You hear talking, fast rapid discussions that you couldn’t understand, things you weren’t even aware were happening, no one could eavesdrop on something like that. You wished you wouldn’t wake up, it would be easier that way.

You hated it, so much. Every second was slower than molasses, every interaction like cold water down your neck. Every conversation was like slicing off your own tongue and sucking on it. You were miserable, you debated burning every piece of yourself in the basement that they had splattered across their walls. You wondered if you could slowly starve yourself or mutilate your flesh in a way so gruesome they couldn’t fathom looking at you again. You wondered if you shattered your hands or gave into the intrusive thoughts and stabbed out your eyes or at least one of them, they may grow tired of you and deem you with no worth.

Wouldn’t you rather be useless than trapped? Would you like to be a pet or a victim of your own hand to be free? How much does freedom mean to you? Did you value your own worth more than theirs? Did they value you over themselves? Could they be so addicted to the thought of you that they seaver every piece of yourself apart until they’ve taken every piece of yourself that you wanted?

Your fake room became your two roomed prison, bathroom and bed, the equivalent to your entire life. It was so peaceful at first too, that was sort of shameful to realize. The quietness of the room, the low buzz of the electricity, just subtle enough to keep you content and not annoyed. You had been upgraded from your normal blankets to a heated blanket plus your standard ones. A touching addition for someone who got themself stranded outside during a blizzard on accident. You were lucky they found you when they did, because by the looks of it the snow only got heavier, thicker, and much more wet.

You moved fast or as fast as you could, to grab a pair of fuzzy socks, or well you were desperate enough any pair would do, and some slippers. Your moving to gather something to warm your feet made them realize you were awake. You had curled back up, tucking yourself into a corner half under the desk, trying to keep yourself the least exposed from the air as possible. A clean rug pulled so it kept you for the cold floors, blankets hung in whatever ways you could to trap the warm air in. You had stuffed pillows in there too. If it wouldn’t have gotten humid you would have considered the bathroom and warmed it through a bit of hot water.

You struggled with your migration under the desk. Your skull was pounding and you swayed, nearly collapsing to the floor. It very quickly became more efficient to crawl across the floor and move your things to your cocoon. There was a lot of pain in your thighs, the mussels burned, your skin felt stiff, the legs themselves felt like dead weight, something akin to a puppet’s strings or one of those children’s toys with the string they hold and drag around the room.

You were drowsy but awake, curled up under that desk. The woven fabric of thin sheets started to look like patterns and pictures, faces, and objects. They’d blink into existence pulsing with blotches of light, though they never glowed, but seemed almost like a floating paper that slowly grew until you blinked again and it disappeared. They looked not like people you know but like characters from a show or game, unrealistic ones to be specific, animals from animated movies that stole from cruel kings, or strange robots that were murderers or nurses. The things you saw would raise a red flag to anyone but your current self.

You toyed with the edges of blankets and pulled at the pieces of lint that stuck to them. Picking and plucking. All the while you desperately tried to stay comfortably under the covers, whiteout exposing yourself to the air that still felt freezing. You laid there aware that Shalnark walked into the room, hurrying to your side under the desk, and pulling your arms gently towards him, but you didn’t pay much more attention than that. You saw Phinks and Fetain with heating pads, tea bags, and hot cocoa powder.

“Heart..”

“Poor cognition..”

“Rest..”

Everything was clearly there but you just couldn’t feel it there. Their voices grew fuzzy and their arrival truly only made you question if the hallucinations were getting more realistic. The more you laid there the more you sort of noticed something was wrong with you. It didn’t mean that you felt yourself blinking away the day, and staring at blank objects and seeing paintings, but you could tell something was strange. It was a kind of strange that felt like a dream. A face that you couldn’t quite remember a text you couldn’t read but knew what it said, or a feeling that you hadn’t done something that you were currently doing. In this instance it was a mixture of something not quite being possible, and a feeling that something had already happened.

Yet you just laid there until they slowly took away heat pads, and you slowly became more aware of their voices. It took a long while more than you were aware of, and one they were all too aware of. The floor under the desk had ruined you back for a few days but the warm makeshift hut was so toasty you could have done it all over again. As you became aware of your surroundings, you could also better understand what had happened.

Somehow, overcome in your grief you lost control and embraced the outdoors when that door was left unlocked. You still couldn’t say for sure if you meant to run or not, but you longed for the moving fresh air, sickened but stale air that you now had learned was poisoned by blood and guts. You’ve see gore before, torture porn was a genre of horror in itself, an orchestra of screams and mutilation that on ocasion you mimicked and drew inspiration from. Perhaps seeing it, real and so close to you made you face a piece of yourself that you didn’t know the name of. It was more than fear, it rocked you to the core and twisted your guts like a pair of tongs. Plucking your strings and tugging you towards vomiting, but even then it was so familiar you felt guilty and wrong, yet you knew you weren’t to blame.

You could see the color drained from his skin. The dried blood on the metal table, wrists bound so tight the hands seemed to be blue. It hovered in your mind, and it haunted you. His skin had been drained of its color but you could see where the bruises had turned green and yellow. The bruises were all different shades, some so fresh you felt like they could have been only from you, but some so old and large that you knew even a hospital would be shocked.

It was a void in your chest, perhaps that was the best way to put it. A hollow cavity draped in burlap, inside a steaming pumping oblong sphere, it glowed a warm saturated orange, though the pounding object was a more scarlet tint. You saw it clearly in snapping images, the burlap hoisted up and the bosom folded over, revealing the hollowness, the framework of steel, the inflating bags that grew and shriveled up in time with the pulsing. You saw stitches in the artificial organs, blue standing out against the pale pinks and the red blood.

You fiddled with the wires under your desk as you pictured it. Perhaps it would be something you could create out of spare parts, though maybe it wouldn’t work like you pictured. It stuck with you though. Chicken wire would be too weak for the bones, but it would serve great for connective tissue, tendons and ligaments would need to be something like wire, thread, or yarn, but the mussels would need to be some kind of fabric, something strong unlikely to break yet flexible. You considered silk but it would be too rich for something meant to look natural, and common, the simple solution was cotton. Though you were also faced with the question of cartilage you thought of softer plastics, something that could be easily formed and change, but difficult to decay.

The more that you absorbed the ideas the more it sewed its way into your head, the more you forgot about your predicament, the more you didn’t care that this home wasn’t yours. It may have haunted you still, but in this moment of absurdity and being possessed by your own thoughts you needed to continue with your work the more it forced you to move and sketch. It would work not because you knew it would but because you were so desperate for it, that it needed to work.

Something about art is that it overtakes you, it just forces you to act and create regardless of how well thought out it may or may not be. Once an idea leeches itself inside of someone it doesn’t tend to let go easily. This brain-rotting idea had you scrambling to fill the pages of your sketchbook each one cluttered with bright graphic images, bold and saturated, details drawn in with ever improving line work as your hands slowly recovered from the cold. In your head you could see the threads woven together stretching to move exactly like a real muscle.

You tore apart the drawers, pulled out colored paper, and found some straws from takeout, you took those too. A pale pink slip of paper was in your hands, it was lightweight and you sliced it into thin strips wrapping them up into long tubes. You soaked your hands in glue, pasting them together overlaying them around a stick with the ends bulked up with hot glue. You slowly built a scavenged arm with the junk in your room.

You sipped a warm soup, some kind that was creamy and pale with soft chunks of pale meat and a green vegetable, thin slivers of orange. You’re sure you knew the name once but at the moment your mind was hollow of any thoughts except those related to the arm. It slipped into your dreams, you could see your hands working and sewing. Paper would be combined with some of the plastic trash you had thought of working with. The paper would be layered with thin cloth scraps. The hand and arm combined in your dreams and in reality as you worked on it constantly. You ate and drank sure, but it was pushed off, delayed until the pangs made you moan in pain or until they stopped altogether. In some sense you forgot about the three men, the door was unlocked though you couldn’t ever remember checking it. Your cat and his plump butt would woddle in and out on occasion, resting in your bed, the closet, even the shelves watching and for the most part leaving you alone, content with just observing.

On day two of the haze, the men soon dubbed it, your arm had gone from a plan and a small pile of papers, threads, cloth, and other junk that you scrambled together, to a frame of plastic bones and strips of muscle. Thin and pink, like bacon decorated with ligaments and tendons.

Day three, those muscles were applied to the forearms and upper arms, while the placements needed adjusting and some final securing against their anchor points. The hands were mostly bones, but they had been firmly placed together and some of the smaller connections had been mapped out.

Day four the muscles were anchored in place and the hands were bulked up with their flesh. Thin coating sheets of a thin connective tissue substitute, had been prepped and some of the major arteries and veins had been completed as well.

Day five had seen the total completion of blood vessels and muscle placement in the limb, the connective tissue and fat had been applied in a majority of the project and the skin was in the process of being colored and matched to have a correct look to it. You fell asleep pulling at the connections admiring how they moved correctly.

Day six had been the day of installing the skin and a final fatty layer. In some ways the skin was applied like a sock, and in some places it was secured with adhesives or thread. You watched it move, trimmed and altered the measurements of the skin covering. The seams looked almost bruised in the dim lighting of sunset.

Day seven was additions of nails and other details, small hairs, moles, freckles, scars, and normal discoloration. Perhaps you had been looking at it too long as the daylight faded but the seams in the skin looked lighter, more of a pink tinted white of a scar on pale skin, then the sight differences in the original fabric of the covering.

Day eight you corrected the colors and details on and off the shoulder. The muscles that connected to the humerus from the torso sprouted out from it and you gently bundled them in a loose netting for easier storage. The hand was studied from every angle you could think of details marked I. The notes you had been writing, and then the arm was placed up on a shelf. You went to bed before the sun set that day, the door to your room was wide open possibly for the last few days, it didn’t matter. As you laid there, so tired that you slowly seemed to forget how to move. You gazed at it proudly even as your eyelids suffocated your vision. Its fingers twitched, tapping lightly on the shelves, slowly, again and again until you fell asleep.

When you woke your neck was stiff and your back sore but you slid out of bed like sludge. Pooling the sheets on the floor, small missed scraps of paper and thread were either covered by the fabric wave or swept away with the wind. As you zombie walked into the kitchen you caught stares from the three kidnappers. To them it was a surprise you had awoken with the sunrise let alone left your not-so-much-of-a-prison room. Though your pain from restless work was mildly debilitating as you burned your hands with hot water to relieve some of the stiffness in your hands and fingers. You were young so you couldn’t be sure, but you wondered if this is sort of what arthritis felt like.

Through your yawning you couldn’t argue as Shalnark pulled you away with a towel towards the couch. He spoke softly and lovingly as he rubbed your hands and wrists, as the tv was switched by Phinks to something only you really enjoyed. You heard the cabinets open and close, so it was guaranteed that Feitain had taken your breakfast upon himself.

“You’re still weak aren’t you?”

“You should eat slowly, but as much as you can.”

“We don’t want you vomiting-“

“We can always get you something small too, so you don’t throw up from eating too much.”

It was back and forth between the two blonds. While you knew they argued from time to time they finished sentences before they were halfway complete, shifted to slightly different things without a break in their linguistic flow. While Shalnark took time to focus on small hygienic notes, Phinks looked at the physical well-being of your body, and from the kitchen Feitain used a knife to complete your nutritional needs.

“You have pin pricks all over your fingers!”

“You need to walk more.”

“Eat light first.”

“They’re bruised!”

“You’re ready to collapse at any moment!”

“Need more vitamins!”

“We’re glad you're okay.”

So you sat with them, walking back and forth across the room, trimming and painting your nails with a clear polish, snacking on cutely shaped octopus sausages. You showed them the arm, pulling and poking at the muscles, running your fingers across the smooth skin. It was a pride and joy of yours, and it looked so lifelike for your first attempt! Words and explanations tumbled like water out of your mouth, listing off ideas and things to improve it, how these could be something realistic like a large puppet. Though the tv buzzed quietly as it grew dark, the four of you dozed off in the living room, scattered across the floor with pillows and blankets, and the cat taking up the role of pillow himself.

Sometimes, like this day, it felt normal. Like a home and a family that had always been your own. The kidnapping hadn’t happened in this living dream. You still had your makeshift little art studio thing that was set up in your living room, and the window of your apartment may have had too many layers of white paint that the window easily got jammed when you tried to open it. That self you had stolen from a neighbor’s trash may have been stained and kissed by a few stickers but it still had that look that reminded you of your childhood bedroom. Instead of the couch you could pull yourself onto a cheap futon, one too firm to be good to sleep on but one you commonly woke on in the morning. Being awake in the silence made you realize it all more than you wanted.

The tv eventually turned off as you laid there exhausted but unable to fully fall asleep. “Feitan…” you whispered, not waiting for a response. “I don’t know why I’m here. I can’t figure out if I hate you or myself, or anyone else. I don’t want this, you know that, but even though I want to scream, I like these moments like today. It feels like a bad dream, but also like a good one. I don’t know what I’m saying, you’re probably asleep anyways.” You rolled over smacking yourself into the backrest of the couch, it was easier to hide from your embarrassment than anything else. “I’m an idiot.” You groaned into the cushions as your cat climbed up into your back, his claws gently digging into your waist.

You rolled and turned, your arm, crafted to perfection, laid perched on the table. Its fingers tapped and wiggled a rhythms. You held it. Feeling its muscles move and squirm as it holds gently onto your arm. Like a newborn you cradle it and wander down the hall, slipping away from the three men all asleep. You feel light, as if gliding across the floor or hovering a few inches above it. Nothing makes you consider going back to bed as your cat slowly trails after you. His wide eyes look up at you as you juggle the basement door’s handle, and lead yourself down the stairs.

Your work station was left mostly untouched, the table pushed back a few inches, the pile of paint tubes tidy in their box. Some of your notes had fallen from their spots on the wall but you ignored them and approached the table where the man still laid.

He gasped for air struggling to breathe through his panicking as he saw you approach. “Who are you!” He yelled weakly, and restlessly, you hardly understood him through the heavy breaths. “Get away from me! Just let me die please!”

His arm, the one that was broken, was horribly infected. It was bright red and swollen, the bone was now poking out through inflamed muscle and skin, now covered and leaking puss. In the furthest parts of his hand his fingers had turned an almost black purple, and he was struggling to move most of the arm.

The arm would need to be removed.

#fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #yandere feitan #yandere shalnark #yandere phinks #feitan #shalnark #phinks #feitan x reader #shalnark x reader #phinks x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #hxh x reader #yandere hxh

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danielfuckingricciardo · 5 months

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23 and Alex or Danny?? Whoever u want, I just love you and ur writing sooo much 💙💙

Bestie stop I’ll cry you’re too kind 😭😭😭

Song 23 - I Never Told You What I Do For A Living // My Chemical Romance

As soon as I saw what song it was I knew what I had to do and I honestly can’t do this to Alex he’s too babey too precious cinnamon roll to be all 2016 abt it. So instead Daniel gets a fic that I’ve been thinking abt for a while and that fits the song perfectly. Also this is great cos I know ur just as emo as I am lol

Trigger warnings - graphic descriptions of murder and blood.

You looked up at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your knuckles white beneath the drying blood stains you grip onto the edge of the sink for dear life.

‘Fuck. What have I done?’ You thought to yourself.

The moment went by in a blur. You had watched him enter his driver’s room, your mind and heart racing as you thought about exactly what you wanted to do.

You had the knife - the means to do it. All you had to do was follow him, and not make a sound.

Before he could even say anything, you plunged the knife into his chest. The wet squelch it made as it sliced into his flesh played on repeat in your ears like tinnitus. You couldn’t escape that noise.

He hit the ground, but the animal within you had taken over. Your mind was blank as you continued to plunge the knife in and out of him as the blood pooled beneath his dying body. His eyes were glassy, and a single drop of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth as you watched the life drain out of him.

His life… that you had taken.

You weren’t sure how many times you had stabbed him. It all felt like a dream, or a nightmare, the details were hazy.

All you knew, was that you had done it. You had killed Sergio Perez.

In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. The good thing to do. You were clean, you had thought, because you didn’t do it for yourself. It wasn’t for a selfish reason.

You did it for Daniel.

You snap your head up to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, but you didn’t see yourself anymore. The person you were before you had taken a man’s life, they were dead too. They died alongside Checo. You were all that was left. The part of you that could commit such a barbaric act.

Splatters of blood adorned your face, drying and flaking and mixing with the endless stream of tears that ran from your waterlines.

You reach a shaky hand up to your cheek and smear a droplet with your fingertips, his blood and your tears mixing into some kind of unholy elixir of death.

The front door opens, and you gasp. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want him to know.

“(Y/N)? Where are you?” Daniel calls out, but you don’t reply.

Doors open and close, before you hear footsteps, followed by the creak of the bathroom door as it slowly swings open to reveal your bloodied and bedraggled form.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” Daniel asks. He doesn’t move. He keeps his distance. He sees your face in the bathroom mirror, and you see his, and his face drops.

“Wha-what did you do?” He asks, his breathing shaky as his brown eyes fill with tears.

“I did it for you.” You manage to speak, your grip on the sink becoming tighter as you fight to keep control, strong enough to almost rip the fixtures out of the wall.

“What did you do? (Y/N), please. Talk to me. You’re freaking me out here,” Daniel says, the panic evident in his voice.

“I don’t really remember. I-I- I followed him inside and… I had a knife and…” you try to speak, but you choke up. You didn’t want Daniel to know exactly what you were capable of. You didn’t want to scare him.

“What did you do, (Y/N),” Daniel says forcefully, and it hurt. Hearing the man you loved so much, so deeply, speak to you in such a way. It caused you more pain than anything else you had done that day.

“I killed him. I killed Checo,” You say, letting out a shaky breath, “but I did it- I did it for you!”

You turn to face him, your eyes making contact with his, and you take a step towards him.

Daniel takes a step back, and with that step, he breaks your heart.

“I would never, never hurt you,” you say, and Daniel takes another step away.

“Please Daniel, don’t do this to me, please!” You beg.

You fall to your knees before him, gazing up at him and begging for forgiveness with a face he had loved. A face that was covered in an innocent man’s blood.

“I would never want you to do this. I would never ask- Fuck!” Daniel exclaims, banging his fist on the bathroom door in anger, hard enough to splinter the wood.

You don’t react. There’s nothing left within you now. No emotions, no feelings. You were completely numb.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I love you.”

“And I loved you! Fuck!” Daniel shouts as he turns away from you, covering his face with his hands in despair.

‘He can’t even bare to look at me. What have I done?’ You think to yourself.

Daniel walks away from you, and you let him. Whatever he was going to do, you weren’t going to stop him.

You had given him a gift, and whether he chose to accept it or not was up to him to decide.

It was only as you saw the blue flashing lights outside of the window, and heard the sirens blaring below that you knew he had made his choice.

They cuffed you, and held you tightly as they marched you out of the apartment. Your tears running hot and fast down your cheeks.

You take a final glance in Daniel’s direction as they take you away, and you know for certain that he had rejected your gift.

You always felt that you loved Daniel more than he loved you. He said he would do anything for you, anything at all, but now you know he didn’t mean it. But you did. You loved him so much, you would kill for him.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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