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#tw being trapped in own head
foxboidrew · 6 months
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Welcome, Project Ru-A
I got bored and wanted to write something! This is 1,433 words, which is the longest thing I've ever written, so I'm very proud of it! A picture is included at the end! This one is a bit dark, so please be aware of the following:
Tw// mention of blood, mention of death, fainting, kidnapping, panic attack(s), forced mind possession (??), being trapped in one's own head, talks of murder, being referred to as a 'play thing', and screaming (lots of screaming)
A hummed as he made his way to the Daycare. It was time to help Sun clean again for the week, so he was fully prepared with lots of sanitizer. Though, something felt off. He had noticed that Sun didn't send him a message this week, which was concerning in A’s eyes because Sun was always on schedule, making sure times were correct and when A would be there. But he had received nothing of the sort.
Upon arriving at the entrance to the Superstar Daycare, A froze in place as he saw the total destruction. “WHAT THE HELL?!” He cried out. Debris was everywhere, from the entrance to the entirety of the area, was nothing but ash, some smoke, and broken pieces. Had something that Moon built malfunctioned?
A walked further in, leaving the cleaning cart at the front. He carefully made his way through the darkness, yet he could feel eyes on him. Just the feeling alone made him want to high tail it out of there. As he got closer to the door he could hear voices, three to be exact. But they didn't sound like anyone he knew, and none of them sounded distressed about the situation. In fact, it seemed the more higher toned of the bunch was delighted.
“Who the hell…?” A whispered to himself. He was thankful for the little bit of light as he peeked through a small hole in the wall of the main daycare structure. To his surprise he found more Sun and Moon models, but something was wrong.
He looked at the one closest to the wall. He couldn't see their face, but it looked like Sun, but also Moon? Albeit destroyed, and british, but he seemed the most excited to be here. Looking at the other, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread, as if he knew this thing. It wore mostly navy blue with accents of red, baring a hood and ripped cape and what looked like a jumper. His face was maroon and white with red swirly eyes, and sharp teeth to match his claws. He sat back to listen.
“Excellent work today, Bloodmoon! As your prize, you will get a barrel with enough blood to feed both of you~!”
So his dread was right… He never explicitly knew or met Bloodmoon, but he would always hear about him from Sun in passing. He contemplated running, but he feared that he would be heard from how quiet the place was. He honestly found it to be a miracle that the front doors did not make a sound.
“You hear that, brother?! We get more blood!” A deeper voice cheered.
“I know! I'm so excited! And hungry…” A now lighter voice spoke back from the same body.
“Now, run along and feast! I feel as though we have a guest.” The broken one ushered the two.
A could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest as he heard that. Had he been discovered? How?! He could have sworn he was quiet! He listened for the two twins to be far enough away to make his way to a hiding place. He was quick enough right? He had managed to escape situations like this plenty of times! He panicked, ducking behind some piled up debris, as the doors to the main daycare opened and the broken one stepped out.
“Where, oh where has the little mouse gone~? Let's play a game, shall we?”
A stood there, looking for any escape route. As he looked around, the footsteps progressively got louder, and he could have swore he saw a rectangular red light. He brushed off the light to being has panic.
“I can hear your heartbeat, how curious~”
A weighed his options before trying to run, but was quickly grabbed by the broken animatronic. It seemed faster, as if it knew what it was doing. A starting kicking and screaming, actually terrified of this being. He had never seen it, and didn't know what it could do, but if it's working with Bloodmoon, this could very well be how he died. “NO-! LET ME GO-! PLEASE-!”
Ruin only chuckled, pulling A tighter in his grip. A let out a strained squeak as he let out what breath was stuck. Its grip really hurt, and he could feel bits of its body threatening to cut his flesh at any moment. “How curious… We seem to have someone snooping about~! This simply cannot do~!”
A tried to struggle as much as he could, but feeling a few deep scratches caused him to quickly stop. “P…please, I can just lea-”
“Leave?! After everything you've seen and heard? Oh no, no, no~! You simply must stay! You have no choice.”
A whimpered in his grip, scared out of his mind; It was making him lightheaded. And maybe a bit too much, as the world spun, and inevitably he passed out…
He woke up once more, but tied to the lower structure of the play structure. His hands were tied behind his back to the open bars. And it seemed that he was placed in a constant criss-cross position, not that he minded, but his legs were getting restless. How long was he like this? He could feel another pair of eyes on him, different from the rest. That same sense of dread came back as he guessed it was Bloodmoon. How was he not dead?
“Why can't we rip it apart?!” Bloody cried in anguish.
“Because we have to ‘play along’ with our new ‘brother’,” Harvest rolled his eyes; A could practically hear it in his voice.
“Mmnrroooh- But it's right there- and I'm hungry again!!” Bloody growled.
“Would you two settle down?!” Ruin yelled, “I'm trying to make something for our new play thing! If you're so hungry, go find a barrel or some rats to eat! Our guest is not quite ready for your antics yet~”
“Fine!” Bloodmoon snapped and ran off.
A looked in the direction of Ruin. With all the debris, he couldn't see him, only the static of the tv that once promoted Sundrop Energizing Candy. What did Ruin mean? What was he making? Why not let the twins kill him? He tensed up as he heard footsteps again. Looking over, he saw a glowing pair of eyes, one yellow, one red. Ruin was drawing near. “Please, n-no-”
“Don't worry friend~! This won't hurt a bit~!” Ruin sung, holding up a mask that seemed to be the half of a moon model. “In fact… I think you'll feel good as new~”
A tried to fight off Ruin, but he knew he was out matched in both size and strength. He could only let out a scream as Ruin forced the mask on his face. His screams of fear turned into agony as the mask zapped and dug into his skin, embedding itself into the side of his face. Soon the screaming stopped and A slumped over, feeling paralyzed. His body felt numb as blood dripped from under the mask. His head throbbed, his heart pounding. How was he not dead? And why did he suddenly feel calm? And why did he not quite feel like himself?
Ruin smiled brightly as A looked up at him with bright purple eyes. “It worked!! Yes!! Days of work finished!! All with a little help of Stitchy~”
A struggled to wrap his head around what he was hearing. “Days…?” He covered his ears… why did his voice suddenly sound louder… as if he was hearing himself speak for the first time? Wait, how was he moving freely?
“Still not able to speak yet, hmm? Give it time~! I need to make a few upgrades~” Ruin giggled, and ran off once more.
A starting panicking again. He didn't actually say that? He looked around and could still see his surroundings, but why did his vision look off? Like he was watching a dream play out? Where was he? He turned his body around to see what looked like a vast void with the floor reminiscent of that of a black and white tiled castle. He looked at his hands, only to see purple glowing shackles on his wrists and ankles.
“Where am I?! Hello?!” He cried out, but nobody answered.
He cried out even more, but it only fell on deaf ears. Over and over, he even searched for an exit, but to know avail. Only more vast space. A fell to his knees, and started to sob.
Because when you're alone in your own head…
What else was there to do?
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suncaptor · 1 year
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sircarolyn · 2 years
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sighhhh the wasted potential as leela as an agent of the war council - torn between her loyalty to romana & narvin and her new position of power where she actually has a voice, limited as that may be... leela being forced to become something she hates au that lives in my head au, my beloved slash please i’m begging for her to have this energy in war room
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sugume · 4 months
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FAMILY AFFAIRS w/Jujutsu Kaisen
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( TW ) stepcest, dark content, (step)daddy Nanami + Toji, (step)brothers Geto + Gojo, unprotected sex, riding, semi-public sex, cheating, Daddy kink, masturbation, breeding kink, baby trapping (Gojo’s), Gojo’s obsessed and kind of insane.  
Featuring: Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru 
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☾ GOJO SATORU 
“'Toru!” You scream as your stepbrother pounds into you from behind. You're holding into the edge of the hot tub as Satoru fucks you dumb. 
“Love this fuckin’ ass angel.” Satoru groans as he watches your ass recoil. He slaps your right cheek a few times before doing the same to the left. He looks back at your parents' house. It’s the middle of the night but he can’t help but wish that they’d wake up to your loud moans, that they’d come out screaming about how you too shouldn't be doing this.  
They knew better than to send Satoru away again. He would never leave you and if he had to sneak into his childhood home to fuck his girl--he would.  
“Louder Angel,” Satoru grips your hips and pounds into you harder. “Want everyone to hear you screaming and cumming onto my cock.” 
“Satoru! Love you s’much.” You slur, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your arms give out as he continues to pound it you like there's no tomorrow, you fall on the edge of the hot tub, half of your body hangs out. Satoru doesn’t stop, too far gone. 
“M’gonna cum, gonna give you a baby, gonna make sure you’re never apart from me again!” Satoru pushes on your back. You grunt at the pain of being pushed into the hard, cold edge. 
“Gonna cum, gonna cum ‘Ro!” You scream into the night.  
“Come then baby, cum on your big brother’s cock while he fucks a baby into this sweet cunt.”  
☾ NANAMI KENTO 
“Quite sweetheart, mommy’s sleeping right behind me. Don’t wanna wake her up do you?” Your stepfather whispers in your ear as he pushes his thick cock into you. 
You have to hold a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You shouldn't be doing this; all your mother has to do is wake up and look over her husband's shoulder to see her daughter being held down on his cock.  
“D-daddy.” You whisper, turning your head to look at him. He pushes the rest of his cock inside, stuffing you to the brim. You bite down on your bottom lip. 
“S’too much Daddy.” You cry out, Nanami covers your mouth with his in an attempt to get you to stop talking. It hardly works, you cry louder into his mouth as starts to move his cock in and out of you. 
“Feels s’good Daddy,” You moan into his mouth. “I love you.” 
“I love you too baby, but you gotta be quiet or else Daddy’s not gonna be able to fuck you anymore. He’s gonna be sent away and you’ll never see me again.” 
“No!” You choke. You didn't want your Daddy to be sent away. You wanted to stay with him forever. 
“Then be quite baby.” He grunts when you clench down hard around him.  He fucks you faster, stopping every few minutes when the bed starts to stake. You whine softly, closer and closer to cumming the more you think about your mother catching you. She’ll finally let Daddy be yours if she saw how much better you please him, all you would have to do is wake her up. 
But you don’t scream as Daddy fucks you to orgasm. You don’t moan when you feel him cumming deep inside you of and you don’t say a word when he tells you to go back to your own bed. Because you’re a good girl, and if Daddy said to be quiet, you’d be quiet. 
☾ GETO SUGURU 
“Sit up.” Your stepbrother whispers. You grab onto the driver's seat and stand best you can while also trying not to draw attention to your parents upfront.  
You were driving Suguru back to college, all his luggage and extra shit he was bringing were sitting in the other two seats, so you had no choice but to sit on your stepbrother's lap. You didn’t mind though. 
“Alright--sit back down.” Suguru grabs your hips and brings your down on his cock.  Your eyes widen and you gasp. Your thankful your parents like listening to the radio on full blast, you be mortified if they looked back to see you fucking the boy your supposed to call brother. 
“Fuck, you feel so fucking tight,” Suguru groans, grinding his hips into your ass. “Ride me baby, ride my fucking cock.” 
Still holding onto the driver's seat, you look down to make sure your skirt is covering you two before you arch up. Once you get to the tip of his cock you slide back down. “Sugu...” You moan at the feeling of being stretched.  
“Shush y/n, don’t want mommy and daddy to turn around and see you bouncing on your big brother's cock, do you?” Suguru whispers in your ear as he brings you back down on his cock. Your legs start to shake. 
You gasp and grind harder onto is cock before repeating the same movement. After a minute, your legs start to cramp from position you’re in. You fall back onto Suguru chest.  
“C’mon be a good girl and bounce on my cock—what you’re already tired after a few thrust—do I have to do everything?” Suguru grabs your hips and slams you up and down the entire length of his cock. You bite the inside of your cheeks, trying your hardest to keep the moans in. 
“Since you’re making big brother do everything, m’gonna cum in your cunt—no I don’t care about that—than take plan B when you get home!” 
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 
"How bad do you want it baby?” Toji watches from his place on the toilet as you trail your fingers down you to your pretty pussy 
“S’bad daddy, want you s’bad!” You whimper, bringing your other hand up to your slippery tits. You squeeze your nipples as you watch you stepdad fists his cock. You slip a finger into your pussy. It’s nothing compared to his bigger ones. 
“Look me in the eye and tell me what you’ve done to deserve it.” He grunts, spreading his thick, hairy thighs further apart. He reaches down with his free hand to play with his balls. 
“I’m a good girl, I always do what you say—please Daddy, I need you,” You whine, tearing up when he just leans back to stare at you with a bored expression. “Please, Daddy.” You whimper, staring at him with big doe eye. You sniffle. 
“Don’t fuckin’ cry, baby,” Toji sighs, he hates seeing his little girl cry. Toji stands and walks into the shower. He picks you just and you throw your arms around his neck “Hate makin’ my baby cry.” He grabs his cock and pushes the tip in. You whimper in her neck as he pushes you down. 
“Daddy.” You whimper in his neck.  
“Daddy’s gonna make you feel better baby.” He kisses your cheek. 
“Yea?” You whisper grabbing his jaw and kissing him on the stubble. 
“Yea, Daddy's gonna make you feel better—just want my baby to stop cryin'.” 
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
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Gojo Satoru x darling
TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au
gn reader
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Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.
You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.
Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.
“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.
He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.
“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.
He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”
He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.
“I’m just another hungry animal…”
Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.
“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”
He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.
Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.
At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.
You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 
Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.
You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?
But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.
He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.
You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.
You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 
It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.
“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”
The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.
“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”
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planetaryupscaled · 15 days
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Misplaced Comfort
Male OC x Kim Minjeong (Winter)
Tags: 2k, creampie, dubcon, stepsister, tw
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Kim Minjeong knew she had fucked up the moment she walked through the door. The way he sat in the chair, feet propped on the table, eyes cold and looking at her from head to toe. His gaze moved up and down her body, scrutinizing every detail of her outfit with a judgment that made her stomach turn.
“Minjeong.” He says her name in a way that makes her want to cower, but she doesn’t.
“Do you have an understanding of how men’s minds work?”
She’s at a loss for words. She just stood there, holding his gaze.
“Do you know how men perceive you when you dress like that? Where the fuck were you?” His words are harsh, but his tone is smooth and collected, his gravely voice low yet sharp.
“You’re not my father,” she snaps back. Definitely not her most mature move.
“I’m your brother.”
“Step-brother,” she corrected him.
“Just because you are older than me doesn’t give you parenting rights.”
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. He stands slowly and deliberately begins to walk toward her. She steps back subconsciously until her back is against the closed door.
“Say you’re sorry,” he says softly. Eyes fixed on hers.
Minjeong felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
“I’m not saying sor…”
Her voice is cut off as he shoves two fingers into her mouth and down her throat. His other hand wraps gently but firmly around her neck, pushing her against the door. He towers above her, looking down at her.
“Somebody didn’t raise you right,” he says with that condescending tone she know so well.
In a burst of anger, she violently pushed him away, her nails digging into his arms, though his strength is unmoveable.
To her surprise, he lets go of her neck and slides his thick fingers from her mouth. But she can tell from the look on his face that he’s not done.
“If you were a smart girl, you would’ve bitten her fingers,” he says, and she feels a hard slap across her cheeks, bringing tears to her eyes. She looked back up at his chiseled face, trembling.
“I fucking hate you!” she hisses, surprised by the toxicity in her own voice.
“Say that again,” he warns, his voice dark and low.
“I. Fucking. Hate. You!” she snarls between her teeth.
His hand suddenly covers her mouth, sending the back of her head slamming against the door. He flips her around so her back is now facing him with his hand on the back of her head, and her face is pressed against the door. He holds her in place with one hand while undoing his belt with the other.
“Stop,” she choked on a broken whimper.
He forcefully wraps his belt around both of her wrists, trapping them behind her. She looks behind her, and their gaze’s lock. Minjeong shakes her head, her eyes welling with tears.
With a look of defiance on his face, he pulls out his thick cock which is filled with veins just like his hands. Minjeong never understood how it fit inside her tiny body.
With one hand on the back of her head and her face pressed against the door, his other hand begins to slide up and down his hardness. “Lick it,” he commands.
She struggle against the binds. “You’re fucking sick,” she sobs.
“Lick the fucking door,” he repeats quietly. She began licking and kissing the door, as if it were a person.
“Wouldn’t your daddy be proud,” he purrs, his hand working up and down his hardness.
Disgusting. She felt shame rising in her chest, but she was aching between her legs.
“His little girl, being slutty in a--” He interrupts his speech to slap her again. - “--fucking club full of men!?”
she flinches as his hand strokes her face.
“I didn’t even dance on anyone,” Minjeong sob.
He turns her around and lifts her up against the door, her legs straddling him, her skirt riding up to expose her lacy white underwear. Her hands are still locked behind her back, painfully pressed against the door. He keeps her there, his cock perilously poised at her entrance.
“Tell me what you said again,” he commands.
“I said I fucking hate you,” she exclaimed. He pushed her underwear to the side exposing her smooth-shaven pussy.
“That’s not how you are supposed to talk to me,” he whispers.
“No,” she whispers. “Please stop…stop...”
He enters her tightness, slowly pushing in. Minjeong felt as if she were being ripped in half. He covers her mouth as she screams into the rough palm of his hand.
He begins to work in and out of her. She feels like he’s in her stomach, tearing apart her organs. He works into her expertly, fucking her slowly as if they were making love. his abdomen’s taut skin grinding against her clit.
“Say it again,” he hisses, withdrawing his hand from her mouth.
“I fucking hate you,” she said in a low, soft voice, and began to cry, tears adorned her beautiful face.
He pushes into her hard and slow, enunciating each word to match his rhythm. “Say. You. Are. Sorry.”
“I’m sor--”
He shoves his fingers down her throat again, silencing her.
“Who taught you to choke on a man’s cock?”
“Answer me.” He asks sharply.
“You,” she cries out desperately. Her voice breaks, and muffled as his thick fingers invade her mouth.
He moves even closer to her face. His fingers leave her mouth, but he uses one hand to crush her face. Their eyes are locked. The other hand is on her hips, lifting her up and down, holding her against the door.
“Who fucking taught you how to take it like a good girl?”
Minjeong was cobbing uncontrollably. She can hear it in her voice and feel hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You,” she cried.
He releases her face. “Open your mouth.” She obeys, and he spits into her mouth. She swallowed it, a pang of humiliation marking her heart.
“Who. Fucking. Owns. You?” He asks, his calm quiet voice slowly getting louder, pushing into her in time with each word.
“Whose spit do you swallow?” Who stretches your cunt until you beg him to stop? Who comes to you every fucking day?
“Y- Yours,” she whispers.
“Say it,” he growls.
“You fucking own me,”
“Louder.”
“You fucking OWN me!” she screams.
“Shhhh,” he murmurs, putting his hand over her mouth again. This is a sick game. He begins to pick up speed, his abs grinding into her clit, taking her closer and closer to a place she refuses to go.
“I own you,” he says sweetly. His eyes darken suddenly.
“So tell me how the FUCK I don’t have parenting rights,” he hisses, his voice as loud as she’s ever heard it.
“Tell me!”
Her voice is muffled beneath his hand, and her attempts to speak are unrecognizable.
“I can’t hear you,” he mutters. His eyes flash with dark pleasure.
“If you don’t answer me, I’m going to put a finger all the way up to that little ass of yours,” he purrs.
Minjeong screamed against his hand, begging with her eyes. He fucked her faster and faster, but remains rhythmic and calculated.
“That’s not a good enough answer,” he says.
Minjeong felt his thick finger at the entrance of her ass, and began to push in as she struggled against her binds.
“Kiss my hand,” he says.
Minjeong began to feverishly lap at the palm of his hand, the hand that silenced her, doing everything she could to get him to stop. Instead, she felt his finger push up into her asshole. She cannot believe it fits. She choked on her own screams.
Instinctually, she bite his hand.
She barely hurt his thick, calloused skin, but the look on his face as he removes his hand from her mouth is priceless.
Until it isn’t.
His surprise fades into a dark, intense anger. He begins to push a second finger into her ass at the same time he pushed deeper into her love tunnel, his cock head nudge at entrance of her cervix. Reactively, she begins blubbering.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry. Please don’t. Not two.”
“Sorry what?” He asks sharply. He holds his fingers like a gun, waiting her answer. She trembles and hesitates for a moment, “Don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it,” she told to herself.
He then pushes his second finger up into her asshole.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Minjeong’s hoarse voice cracks. The phrase, which may be corny in some contexts, comes off her tongue raw.
His eyes light up. He enjoys her embarrassment. She knows he does.
“I’m going to cum inside you,” he says smoothly and authoritatively.
“And you’re going to cum for me.”
“No… I won’t.” Minjeong remains defiant.
“Say you’re sorry again,” he murmurs as he continues fucking her faster and harder against the closed door.
She moaned. The friction on her clit is too rhythmic and calculated; she feels her heartbeats and the tingles in her stomach. He gets closer to her face than before, with his open mouth so close to her.
“There we go,” he murmurs.
“Cum for me…” He said looking into her eyes.
“No,” she whimpered, and at that moment she cumming, her pussy grip tightening even more around his cock, a small noise of broken pleasure escaping her throat.
He bares his teeth, brows furrowing, as Minjeong feels his cock throbbing, bursting his load inside her unprotected pussy, owning her insides.
He falls against her, and she against him, both out of breath.
He takes her in his arms and carries her to the bed, laying her down. He unlatch the belt from her wrists. He lies beside her, carefully watching her with his eyes.
Minjeong is weakened from the fucking he gave her; she can barely move. His hand reaches out and touches her face. She flinched.
“Shhh,” he says with genuine concern on his face. “It’s over.”
She looked up at this man, this loving and perfect man who had always protected her and who could transform into a complete animal in a heartbeat.
“I know,” she whispers, her voice smaller than usual.
He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I do it because I love you. Because I’m protective. You know that right?”
A strange, misplaced comfort envelopes her entire body. A wave of exhaustion rises up her spine.
“Answer me,” he says, his voice gentle.
“I know, it’s because you love me,” she says.
“Say it again,” he says, his voice aching with love as he observes her every movement.
“It’s because you love me,” Minjeong repeated.
Her eyelids are heavy, and she closes them. She feels his caring eyes on her as she falls asleep, her mind and body tired as they always are after an argument.
She couldn’t deny that deep down, she found peace in his violence.
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makyurini · 1 year
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Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨
when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)
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cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?
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König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver
But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride
That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over
“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”
Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body
König, König, König
Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night
“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you
Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”
His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”
“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”
And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?
As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you
It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping
“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”
His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”
Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me
“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”
It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child
“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”
“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”
And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true
“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging
“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”
Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you
Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead
“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”
He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand
“What if I’m not pregnant though?”
The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”
You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.
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Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡
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mamayan · 5 months
Note
can we get a babytrapping yandere 🥹
Absolutely you can Nonnie~
tw: Baby Trapping • Yandere • Male Yandere • Afab Darling • Afab reader • Pet names • Manipulation • PIV • Oral (F) • Overstimulation/Multiple Orgasms • Sub! Reader (implied) • Dom! Yandere (implied) • Dubcon • Breeding
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This wasn’t originally his intention.
He only wanted a happy life with you, filled with joy and love.
It’s not his fault those dense friends of yours want to keep you from him. It’s not his fault your family is corrupt and trying to tear you both apart. It’s the world’s fault for making you so naive to the evils which lurk in the shadows. You don’t know any better, looking adorably flustered as he buries his face between your thighs.
He could die here, as you tangle your fingers in his hair and shake, he really believes he’s found heaven.
“Oh god—I’m cumming—!” As you throw your head back and your warm cunt gushes, he truly knows he’d do absolutely anything to keep this perfect bubble he’s carefully crafted from popping.
You look stunning, sweaty and ruined from multiple orgasms, looking at him with such pretty trusting eyes. Panting in the bed he bought for you, the lacy lingerie he’d given you as a present hanging off your ankle and pushed up on your chest to reveal all your skin for his gaze, he knows he could never love anyone as much as he loves you.
His eyes are crazed, smile distorted as he gazes at you with obsession and wild adoration. You miss it all, dizzy from dehydration and the intensity of your own orgasms. He’s never usually so forward and rough, intense and dazzling as he whispers his love in your ear.
You were supposed to be breaking up with him. Tell him you need space, something he doesn’t seem capable of giving. Instead you’re in his bed again, falling for his charm and skill in handling your body.
You’d do it tomorrow, as he easily flips you and drags your ass up as your cheek rests on the soft comforter.
“Always so precious when you cum for me…” he’s kissing down your thighs, licking up your release as driving you wild as he blows cool air on your pussy. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll fill this pretty pussy too.” He chuckles, acting reassuring as if you doubted he wouldn’t. “I’ll fill you up nice and good.” And you don’t see it.
You don’t see his face, darkening with something sadistic as he slicks his tip up with your juices and presses into you. His thick cock stretched your gummy tight walls, making your back arch further for him as he sinks so deep it nearly strings.
He relishes in your little squeal as he slams the rest of the way in, rolling him hips and driving the soft mushroom top right up against your cervix. His moan mixes with your whine, head falling back as he pulls out slowly before slamming back, a new pace being set of fucking you as deeply and hard as he can. Your lips open to complain, whine what you really want, faster and harder than this sensual pace, but his hand reaches around and his finger touches your clit. You shut up as he gathers your slick and smears it over your hardened nub, beginning to rub small circles around it to accompany his thrusts.
He only huffs a laugh at your behavior, how you relax and roll your hips back to meet him now as he works you towards another orgasm.
His chest meets your back, pressing you deeper into the mattress as his scent surrounds you, lips pressed to your ear as you clamp down tighter. Each little puff of warm air on the sensitive cartilage making him hold you tighter as you moan and wiggle for more friction.
“You like how I fuck you? How well we fit together? It’s like your pussy was made for me.” He groans, only riling you up further with the dirty talk as you feel another orgasm pulling at the knot inside you. His fingers keep the same pace as his hips, his tip rocking up inside you, so deep and pressing it’s like he’s trying to sear himself inside you. “You going to cum sweetheart? Milk my cock and fill your little womb?” The heat and pressure are becoming dizzying, your mind going a bit blank as you do cum, soaking his cock and balls as he speeds his pace up only now, drawing out your orgasm and causing it to intensify. His tip kissing your cervix over and over, fucking you nice and deep before he groans curses. “You’re gonna be such a good mama, fill you up nice and full, breed this fucking cunt make it all mine,” you’re cumming again, too overwhelming to focus on his concerning language as his balls draw up tight. He’s spilling into you as you spasm and tense around him, cock swelling up as his balls release the pent up load he’s withheld for nearly a month into your fertile womb.
You’d been such a good girl, taking the sugar pills diligently. You didn’t even notice you’d been off your birth control for over three months now, just after you moved out of his apartment under the excuse of needing “more personal space”.
He’s fucking you nice and full all night, filling you up over and over, growing increasingly unhinged as he imagines you swelling with the child you created together. Your family wouldn’t push him away once you figured it out. Your friends would take a seat in the back of your mind, the baby taking precedence. And there he’d be, happy and ready to provide and care for you.
“You ready for another load baby♡?” You nod in a daze as you cum for him again, exhausted and overstimulated as he groans and shoots another hot load inside you. Your lower body soaked in fluids from how much you’d both cum.
You’d be pregnant for sure by the time the sun rose.
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Dividers/@cafekitsune
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konigsblog · 6 days
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Rapist!Simon Riley who kidnaps his best friend. 🩸
tw/cw; punishments rape, non-con/dub-con, kidnapping. DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT — MDNI 18+
Simon doesn't know what love actually is. He can't see the difference between your comforting words and acts of kindness from your attempts to flirt with him.
You've been with Simon through thick and thin, his entire childhood and every traumatising moment he can recall, and he feels that it's about time he takes what belongs to him, rewards you for your support. He can't risk his beloved being swooped away by another man, someone more mentally stable, someone more attractive. Even if you hate it, you'll grow used to it.
Now, you're tied up in his basement with Simon sitting creepily close to you, his hands wandering over every inch of skin. He'll collar you for himself, throat fuck you and guide your head using the collar. He'll even buy you a shock collar, turning up the sensitivity depending on your behaviour. Cursing him out? Be prepared to be choking on your words. He'll stretch you open until you're used to being filled with a plug, or more preferably, his big cock. He'll leave you longing and yearning for that pleasure and ache between your thighs, no matter how agonising it truly is.
He'll bend you over every surface once he's finally home from another month long deployment, raping your little holes for the first time in forever. Even better if you're weakened from not using your legs in a while, from being trapped down in the basement. You'll crumble to your knees, as if you've been trained to fall to the ground, to give Simon access to that pretty throat and use that mouth for his own use.
And he knows so much about you. Your favourite book, movie, food, song, and even your deepest secrets. Perhaps he'll use them against you, or maybe he'll freak you out by showing off how much he really knows about you...
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he washes your hair
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Injured in the line of duty, you can't even manage to wash your own hair. Captain John Price decides to help you out.
MDNI/18+
TW: hurt/comfort, injury
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50663425
The medics did the best they could to patch you up, but the damage was extensive. The terrorist’s pipe bomb had exploded against your back, slamming shrapnel into your arms and shoulders, tearing your flesh and breaking your left collarbone. The doctor had tried to put your arm in a sling, but you couldn’t raise either arm above the midpoint. As you dragged your body back to your quarters, you did your best to get undressed, but you were now stuck, sitting on the floor, crying a bit from the pain and frustration of your injuries. 
There was no one to help you. You were stuck out here with the task force, but Soap and Ghost were still deep in enemy territory on recon. Gaz had gone with Laswell to find the weapons shipment that she’d promised you, and the only one left in the makeshift house-turned-base was Captain Price. 
You told yourself you’d do the same thing for him if the tables were turned, but it didn’t lessen the shame at all. You called his cell, 
“Cap?”
“Sparrow? What’s wrong?”
You never called him like this. Not at this hour. But, knowing you were injured, he picked right up. His voice was full of concern. You could picture his blue eyes shining with his worry. 
“Nothing…” you paused, “Well, I…”
“Gonna die of old age before you tell me, soldier.”
You smiled, biting the bullet,
“Cap, I need your help. I’m stuck in here. Can’t move my arms.”
“On my way,” he hung up. 
You waited, listening for his heavy footsteps. Eventually, you heard him in the hall. He knocked on your door.
“Come in,” you said, turning your eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, full of shame. 
You were sitting there, in nothing but the shirt stuck around your arm and a pair of panties. You’d been successful with the rest of your outfit, proud of yourself for using a coat hanger to take off your bra from the back clip, but now you were trapped, unable to move even a little without being in excruciating pain.
“Poor little bird. Broke your wing, hm?” Price smiled down at you, his tone so different than his usual sarcasm.
“I must look pretty pitiful for you to be so sweet about it,” you rolled your eyes, “Go on, have a laugh. I’m a muppet who trapped herself in her own shirt.”
He didn’t say anything. Price walked over to you carefully, bending down so he could reach you, his hulking body darkening your vision, casting his huge shadow over you, almost protectively. He snaked his hand under the collar of your shirt and guided it up and over your head, careful not to disturb your bandages. 
Shirtless, now, and in just your underwear, you moved to cover your breasts, wincing as you made the attempt, your shoulder angry at the bent angle. 
“It’s alright, birdie. Let’s get you up,” he set your arm back into its neutral position and guided you to your feet. 
“I’m so sorry you had to come,” you whispered, shameful to the point of pain. 
Price guided you to the bathroom, his strength making you feel weightless. You were dizzy from it. His warm body felt like a salve on your wounds. 
He didn’t ask for permission when he stripped off your panties, kneeling to pull them off of your legs, letting you step gingerly out of them, one by one. You steadied yourself on his huge shoulders, the agony too high for you to complain any longer. Your breath caught in your chest when a sharp spike of hot pain shot through your chest. 
“Ah! Christ,” you gritted your teeth. 
Blue eyes looked up at you from below, looking like a man in prayer, looking up for his gods, for a sign. 
“Alright, Spar? Here, sit. Sit down,” he guided you to the side of the shower-tub combo, placing you between the open plexiglass doors. 
“Captain, I…” you tried to make your excuses again. 
“Shh,” he wiped some of your dried blood off of your cheek, and furrowed his brow at you, “No more of that. That’s an order, Corporal.” 
“Yes, sir,” you grimaced, trying to turn on the water. 
“Stop, birdie. Let me help you.” 
You were too tired to fight him. He turned on the water for you, and he started to remove your bandages. Your wounds needed to be cleaned and the bandages replaced. You weren’t sure how the medics expected you to do that by yourself. You thought the captain might be willing to stay, so you tried to be good, tried not to be a burden to him. 
“You know,” he commented as he waited for the water to warm up, reaching for clean towels, “Laswell called. She said you saved those two girls, the ones in the upstairs room.”
There had been a mess of civilians on this last mission, and you had blocked the bomb with your body, trying to shield them from the blast. 
“They made it through?” You wanted to be sure.
He nodded, smiling,
“Sure did, little bird. You did good. Made us proud,” then, he corrected himself, staring at you with fiery intent, “Me. Made me proud.” 
You smiled back, 
“Thanks, Captain.”
“C’mon, let’s get you clean,” he took off his shirt and you gaped in awe. 
His body was huge in the small bathroom, enormous shoulders bulging off of his heavy frame, and his core was thick but the top of his abs were sticking out, suggesting a well-fed but strong man. He was covered in dense hair, laying straight and flat against his skin, unshaven and untrimmed. No one to trim it for, you supposed.
“What are you doing?” You asked, shocked by his undressing.
Price unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as it dangled, and started to take off his pants, using his toes to pry off his boots from the heel,
“Can’t wash yourself, and I can’t reach you from out here. Gonna jump in and help you,” he paused, looking at you carefully, “That alright, birdie?”
Your nickname was your favorite thing you’d ever gotten from him. When he used it, in his thick accent, it made your heart race. 
You nodded, resigning yourself to be as professional as you could, averting your eyes.
He chuckled, rich and deep,
“Might as well have a butcher’s now, love. Gonna be up close and personal.”
You looked at him then, accepting his challenge. But, as your eyes raked over his nude form, you saw his skin flush pink, a little more self-conscious than he let on. 
“I know, I know. Old dog like me, I’m nothing to look at. I promise, I’ll just wash you and get back out. Sorry about all the…” he made a general motion toward his cock, which was hanging heavy and half-hard at the sight of you, “Can’t help that you’re a pretty bird.” 
“John, you’re plenty to look at,” you grinned, blushing right along with him. 
For once in his life, John Price didn’t have a snappy response. He just checked the water again and helped you stand up, guiding you into the shower and repositioning the head so that it wouldn’t hit you directly. 
You let yourself soak under the stream, eyes closed, hearing him shut the door behind himself. You felt him steady you with a hand on your hip as he used a gentle washcloth to clean blood off of your skin, careful not to touch your wounds. 
“Turn ‘round, love,” his voice was so low, you almost couldn’t hear him. 
You turned toward him, watching him stand before you, breathing heavier, trying his best not to stare at your chest. It was easy at first. As he cleaned your face, his touch soft and platonic, he stole a few glances down. But, as he began to take care of your collarbone and chest, he lost his nerve a bit. At one point, he stopped mid-swipe, trying to clean blood from you and then watching as a long, thin rivulet ran directly over your nipple. 
You smiled, and he saw you, chuckling again.
“Got me. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Captain. Just a natural response.” 
He pulled back his lips from his teeth and ran a wet hand down his face, looking exasperated,
“Do you want…I mean, do you mind if I…” he let out a labored sigh, shaking his head. 
“You can, John. I…” you waited until he could look you in the face again, “I want you to touch me, if you want to.”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, not really to you, “Look, I don’t want you to feel - ”
You leaned forward, a bit unsteady, and kissed the skin on his sternum, feeling the hairs on your lips, his wet skin sticking to you as you pulled away. 
“Little bird,” he was warning you. You could hear it in his tone. 
“Kiss me, John. Please?”
“I can’t. I can’t because I won’t stop. I don’t have an abundance of self-control. Not after a mission. Can’t be trusted.”
“I trust you,” you looked up at him, praying back to him, hoping he wanted you like you had wanted him over these last six months. 
Price leaned down, holding you steady, and kissed you very chastely. You kissed him back, not chastely at all. He moaned, pulling away,
“Don’t, Spar. I can’t…You’re injured.”
“Yeah, injured. Not dead.”
He smirked, unable to keep the grin off his face. His cock was as hard as a stone, and it was long enough to rub against your belly as you stood together in the small space. 
“Let me wash your hair. I’ll think about it, birdie…you little minx,” his last comment was said under his breath, full of hungry desperation. 
He turned you around again, and he reached for the shampoo, pouring out a quarter-sized amount into his calloused palm. Rubbing it together in his hands, he ran it through your scalp, massaging it until it foamed, making sure to take care of the ends. Then, he held you while you stood under the spray, letting the warm water soak your tresses, running the suds down the drain. 
As he prepared to wash your body, Price took a deep breath. He stayed away from your wounds, but as he started to wash your trunk, he hesitated to soap your breasts. 
“John, it’s okay.” 
He smiled at you, 
“Just enjoying you, little bird. Might not get another chance.” 
“I’ll make sure you get plenty of chances.” 
He was on you then, gently caressing your breasts and nipples with the soap, rubbing his body on yours, washing himself as he cleaned you. He ran his hands over your ass cheeks, down your legs, making sure to take care of your whole body as if it was his.
“Alright, all done,” he sighed, “Let’s get those dressings replaced, and I’ll take you to bed.”
You raised your eyebrows suggestively. He exhaled, smiling down at you in disbelief, his voice deep and ragged,
“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Keep teasin’ me and I bloody will take you to bed.”
You smiled, laughing with him, enjoying his warmth as you leaned your body against his, letting the soft spray from the shower protect you both, cocooned together, safe and sound.
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youryanderedaddy · 14 days
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When Life Gives Lemons
tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude
You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.
“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.
“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.
“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”
“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 
My girl knows how to set me
on flames she goes through 
the motions of the wind she
is a fireball, a fireball, on fire
“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”
The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 
“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.
“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”
“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.
“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.
“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 
“Goodbye, Axel.”
***
You meet him sooner that you’d like.
Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 
Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.
You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 
“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.
He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.
“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”
Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 
“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 
“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 
“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.
“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”
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hotwings0203 · 7 months
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Needed to get possessive alpha bakugo off my chest, ill prolly write a sequel to this tmrw cuz i got some ideas
Tw: noncon, omegaverse
thinking about childhood possessive bakugo who's pined for his omega since she joined the pack Time after time again since you were kids he'd always tried to get close to you, using a number of strange to threatening courting techniques. It was benign at first when you both were young, with him jumping up the large apple tree to get you the juiciest fruit you could never seem to reach, but when you two grew older and played together with the rest of the pack, his efforts seemed more...possessive.
He'd always single you out and force you to be on his team, following up with growling at you whenever you'd run more than a few paces in front of away from him. His sleek gold and black coat would brush up against you constantly, as if only touching you would satiate his desire for your proximity. Bloodred eyes would glare at you when you'd shyly back away at dinnertime, opting to sit away from his intense gaze.
Not like he'd let you get that far.
When it would come time for bathing with your sisters, somehow, everytime you'd be out of the loop and would end up being forced to wash yourself on your own in the cold water.
Little did you know your sisters were not-so-kindly encouraged to not communicate their congregation to you by a certain fiery alpha.
And so when everyone was by the fire, barking out laughter and telling stories of their weekly hunt, you'd sulk to the riverside by yourself, clutching your towel over your shivering body as youd sink closer in the shallow water.
You wanted to get it done as fast as possible so you could join your pack in merry-making, haphazardly scraping dirt off your paws and washing the crevices between your ears.
But as soon as you take a step towards the lush bank, you hear a heavy splash behind you.
You whip around, ears drawn back immeditaley after seeing the alpha who shamelessly follows you around like he's already claimed you.
"W-whatre you doing here? Everyone's by the..fire..." you trail off unsurely as his spiked-up wet mane shakes in laughter. His lack of concern for the reprimands he'll undoubtedly recieve for being this physically close to you send faint warning alarms at the back of your head. Usually he glowers at you and turns tail, but this is new.
"I thought the pack leaders told you to leave me alone," your lip wobbles as your tone borders on fear and indignation. Your brothers had always kept you safe from him, snarling and hiding you behind their tall legs whenever he was around. Bakugo never seemed to give up though, his own flashing teeth and sick grin mirroring their own worry pulled back from their lips.
"Yeah? But you're here though."
You swallow hard and hope he doesn't hear your whimper as you splash backwards towards the bank, but his low grumble of pleasure upon smelling your sweet fear-omones says otherwise. It proves to him that you're not as immune as your other brothers swear you are to protect yourself against him, theyre actually worried for a reason.
They know you'd never stand a chance against him.
And his muscles do ripple amid the water as he steadily stalks towards you, leering as he licks his canines and trains his eyes on your feeble form.
It seems like as fast as you flail backwards towards unseen safety, he advances twice as fast, and within seconds your back hits a hard and scratchy surface.
Bakugo chuckles a humorless laugh as you've nestled yourself in a nice, private corner away from the mainland where everyone can see you. You've backed both of you into an enormous concaved treetrunk, one that circles around 10ft and only one opening...
which you've trapped yourself in.
The roots of various plants that have grown inside this hollowed out trunk provide little cushion as you whimper and try to desperatley climb the walls.
"When are you gonna give up?"
His voice is low, raspy with mixed want and bitterness.
"S-stop, stay away from me or I'll call for h-"
"When are you gonna realize you can't escape me?" He harshly whispers right at your ear as he lunges toward you, causing you to squeal with terror.
He nips your soft ear and inhales your neck, craning his own to get a good look at the sensitive unclaimed part of your neck.
His hands grip your sides and mold the squishy parts as though they were dough, his greediness increasing exponentially as he lowers his drooling mouth to your ear and laves his wet tongue over the planes of your neck and shoulder.
You begin to shake and sob, never having been dealt with him actually touching you and being a victim to his lust. You've taken the protection of your brothers for granted, and oh how you wish you could softly howl out if you had the courage to ask for help.
But the blonde's presence itself is enough of a threat to your life and safety, that much being made clear as his hands grow claws, no doubt his physical appearance shifting from being so riled up. Your skin prick and cuts as his nails jab harder into you, his hands roaming up and down your back, feeling your hips and ghosting over the swell of your ass as well as chest.
You writhe against him which unbeknownst to you, pushes your naked chest out against his own shredded pecs, your pebbled nipples grazing his toned skin and practically making his eyes roll back in efforts not to pin you down and take you like his bitch.
"I just wanted to wash," your voice comes out pleading, and meek. You have no idea how he'll react to you being aggressive and defensive against his assault even if you had the courage to speak out against him.
"And I want to claim you as my omega," he growls directly in your ear, causing you to whine again and cower your head beneath his hounding mouth. "But I guess we'll both have to wait for what we want, huh?"
He knows you know.
You have to know.
Have to have known how badly he wants you, wants to hear your voice ring high with laughter like you do teasing your sisters, wants to hear your playful growls as you wrestle with your brothers who let you win just to see you swish your tail with prowess. He wants to feel you rest your head on his chest, wants to see you look up at him with security and ease, knowing that he's there to protect and love you.
But how can he explain that, with years of nothing but threatening looks and yards of distance between you two?
If it brings you familiarity and perhaps ease of seeing him as you've always thought to have known him, as a brute with nothing on his mind apart from taking you like an animal and conquering you, then he'll save the monologuing for later.
"After all," he heaves in the darkness of the seclusion, voicing his thoughts, "your birthday's coming up, right? You'll be of age to be claimed."
He thrusts his knee in between your trembling legs, pushing your shoulders down while following with his head and never letting his mouth rise above your unclaimed mark. You gasp as he begins grinding his knee in circles against your hooded clit, bouncing you lightly to evoke whatever sweet noises he can from your pursed lips.
You choke and sputter, suddenly grasping around his neck for leverage as you try to pull yourself up, but you're no match for him as it only serves to prove his point and enrage him from your constant rejection.
You can lie to him all you want, but your body never will.
"And trust me, little girl, when that cunt ripens for me to take, when that neck fucking sings for me to lay my mark-"
Your voice cracks into a howl as he takes one of his hands and squeezes the fat of your tit while the other spanks your jiggling ass on his knee, feeling whiplash from the onslaught of sensations.
"-I can promise you, there's no running. There's no cowering behind your brother's legs like some fucking baby, there's no using your sisters as an excuse to turn your face away from me."
Bakugo presses you tight against the wall, smothering you chest-to-chest with him and using the confined space to rut his naked erection against your thigh, his hips snapping forward and chasing years of needed release in your presence.
"I'll tie you down on my bed, face down ass-up and breed you as my bitch. I'll take you bent over and wrapped around me against every surface and floor of our secluded cave."
You blubber as you can feel yourself coming to a high, the water splashing obnoxiously at your humping against each other. In an effort to keep your pride, you try as hard as you can to grit your teeth and delay your orgasm, but he seems to catch on pretty quick.
"And then," he drops your tit and uses both hands to pry your asscheeks apart, impaling you impossibly closer down on the hard bone of his knee, your clit grating deliciously as his leg vibrates and flexes from moving you back and forth, up and down, any direction he can get your teeth to latch onto your lip and pussy clench on nothing.
"Then, you won't have to hide that pretty voice anymore. I'll get those years of silence back in exchange for your screams for help."
At this, he hugs you flush against the wall and himself as you shake from your orgasm, the water rippling at your reaction.
"So if I were you, I'd be grateful for any solitude from now on. Because you won't be getting it anymore."
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snoringkitty1 · 2 months
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Aventurine boyfriend Headcanons
TW: Fluff, not proofread, Mildly suggestive content. Enjoy <3
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•
Aventurine at the beginning of your relationship is a flirty bastard, he'll tease you to high hell and leave you high and dry for his own amusement.
There is 0 initial affection, he's only in it for his entertainment or because he has something to gamble or get from you.
Kisses you with his eyes open, atleast at the start.
But gradually, when you realizes you won't be leaving because of his lack of effort, he might just soften up and start to let his guard down a little.
Though of course this is after a while, but you'll start to see the more vulnerable and faint side to him.
He'll become more affectionate gradually the more he begins to trust you with his feelings, though, it still might take a while. Patience is key.
He's still flirty no doubt, but now there's actually feelings and meaning to his words, and they aren't bluffs anymore.
His sense of fashion may or may not rub off on you..aka he forces you to wear matching clothes, it makes him feel special.
"Do i really need to where this..? Matching outfits are so tacky." You grumbled and adjusted the hat on your head before sighing and taking it off, running your fingers along the rim and raising a brow. "Well, you don't need to, but i would love you more if you did." He joked and fixed a few details on your jacket before taking the hat from your hands and setting it on your head. "You don't love me enough already?" You pouted and looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head, pulling you close for a kiss, his hands holding tight onto your waist as he trapped you in a kiss. "I love you~" He cooed softly and leaned back, "Some matching clothes won't change that." he assured and rubbed your cheek before stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets, "now~ shall we?"
The king of shopping dates, if you don't like shopping though, then the two of you will probably be having at home dates most of the time.
But don't think for a second he isn't buying the most delectable (and expensive) food he can find, because to him, if its clothes, food, hair, nails, you name it. He thinks you're a worthy investment (he just likes to spend money on you.)
Speaking of giving presents, thats simply his love language, because i reckon he feels like if he gives enough, then he won't have to worry about you leaving him.
That being said, he'll need a bunch of reassurance to stop giving random super expensive presents. He'll still give you some regardless but he'll tone it down significantly.
He comes off as the kind of guy who only gives or takes longer kisses, to me atleast.
He might use this to his advantage if he perhaps gets jealous, which i think happens pretty often.
But i think there's also a chance of him just absolutely demolishing you once you two are home behind closed doors.
Switch energy, but can and will top when he feels like it.
He'll let you decide the pace though, he doesn't want intimate moments to feel transactional.
Afterwards, i Dunno i feel like he'd just fall asleep with you, then take of you the next morning.
You rolled away onto your stomach..or tried to, the tight grip of a certain blonde kept you from moving too far away. When you let out an uncomfortable grunt though, Aventurine was quick to let go and sit up to check on you. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, smiling a little before closing them again, "I'm fine, i'm fine.." you mumbled softly, but that didn't deter him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before getting up, you opened your eyes and sat up on your elbows to watch him, he disappeared into the closet briefly and returned with one of his shirts. "Here you go Darling~" he cooed softly and held the shirt out from you, his messy bed head framed his face nicely. "ah..thank you-" you smiled and put it on before flopping back again. "Anything else i can get you? I can order food, or make bre-" He paused when you pulled him close all of a sudden. "Just cuddle with me for a little bit.." You muttered softly, and He nodded, pulling you close again..and like that, you two were cozy and asleep in minutes.
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Thanks for reading.
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yanderenightmare · 7 months
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Gojo Satoru
TW: NSFW, dubcon, yandere, bully/mean Gojo
gn reader - fem clothing
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“Summer did you good, didn’t it?”
Your ears grate at the familiar voice. So smug you can feel the smirk before turning around to see it in all its pearly glory. 
“Leave me alone, Gojo.” You sigh, taking your drink before trying to slide passed him.
But he stands close – too close, still in the intimate club – so close his thigh brushes yours where you sit on the bar stool. “I’ll leave you alone… if you make it worth my while~”
Your nose scrunches. “Gross. I’d sooner fuck a curse.”
His smile doesn’t drop despite your insult. “I’ve got six eyes, you know…  You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”
Your eyes narrow, biting out a “What?” and his smile becomes a chuckle. 
“Short skirts and tight tops. Sitting here all alone.” His black shades dip when he looks down his nose at you, a knowing look in his loud blues. “You’re fishing- and lucky you got me hooked.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you smack your teeth. “And now I'm throwing you back out to sea.”
You try again to hop off your seat, but he leans a hand against the bar and traps you there.
“Who’re you dressin’ up for then, hm?” He continues, getting in closer, bearing down until his lips brush the shell of your ear, whispering, “You know~  all guys are pigs. I guess you’re happy being slop in a trough.”
You put a hand on his chest, but it doesn’t budge him – and when he leans back again on his own, he flashes an even wider grin at you.
“I mean, hell- If I knew you were such a needy slut, I’d mercy-fuck you sooner- shoulda just said so-”
“Shut up.” You snap.
He tilts his head, feeling undeterred – actually, the opposite, offering another snicker. “Oh? Grown some balls under that skirt, too, hm?”
You make another grimace at his crudeness, deliberating throwing your drink in his face.
“What? A couple of compliments and free drinks, and suddenly, you think you’re too good for me?”
You’re reminded of the gap in your rank – why you should hold your tongue.
You sigh – defeatedly now. “Just leave me alone, Gojo-”
But he’s not done having his fun. 
“You’re nothing.” He flicks his tongue off his smile. “You’re a curseless loser- and you don’t have to have six eyes to see it.”
Hints of hurt flicker through the anger on your face, and your scowl wavers – turning into a pout while you look up at him, trying to hold it together. His grin spreads when he sees it, and his words grow colder, cutting deeper.
“Don’t kid yourself- only reason anyone’s lookin’ at yah twice s’cause it’s real hilarious watching your pathetic ass think you’re anything but a-”
“I get it.” You cut him off, voice weak. “You’ve made your point…”
You slide off your stool, squeezing past him with your head bowed to hide the tears welling in the corner of your eyes – threatening to slip if you waited a second longer.
But before you’re able to disappear into the crowd, you’re stopped once again by a hand wrapped around your upper arm.
“Before you go, just know… if you ever decide to dress up like a little slut again- I’ll take it as an invitation.”
The tears slip while you look up at him. 
He takes a second to admire it before letting go. Watching you rush out.
You stand outside in the cold and catch your breath. Wiping your cheeks with hitched cries before a jacket is slumped over your shoulders.
“I don’t think I wanna roleplay this anymore, Toru- It’s too much-” You sniffle, curling yourself against his chest with tiny fists balled in his shirt.
“I know-” He coos, wrapping his arms around you while resting his chin off the top of your head, swaddling you. “But it makes me so fucking hard. Feel-” He groans, rubbing his fattened groin into your stomach.
“I’m not in the mood anymore-” You whine in return, trying to nudge him and his boner off.
But he keeps you in his arms, hugging you tight, a whine escaping his own lips. “No- please don’t. Don’t leave me all blue-balled, angel. Please~”
“You’re so selfish.” You pout, allowing it.
“Yeah~ I’m the worst~” He agrees with a snicker, releasing you – holding your hand as he begins leading you to the car, a hurried spring in his step. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You’re not even listening.” You argue, getting dragged along.
He places you against the door. “Please, I need you. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.” He moans hotly while kissing up your neck – fiddling for the keys in his pocket before unlocking and popping open the back seat. 
You don’t fight him, getting overwhelmed when he lays you down – his kisses never-ending and hunting for all those soft spots he knows make you weak. 
“Can’t believe people dare look at you-” He breathes, almost in a growl, lifting your thighs up around his torso while nestling between them. Rocking his bump against the thin lace of your panties. Voice growing more and more rowdy. “I oughta go back in and level ‘em all.”
He sucks a hickey into your neck, then a small ring of teeth on your collar. You whine at the bruising but don’t do anything to make him stop. Instead, your small hands reach out to his belt – unbuckling it and unbuttoning him, tugging his pants down until they bunch around where he’s knelt.
He makes the last liberties and finds his place between your thighs with a sigh.
“Buncha small-fries… everybody knows you’re mine.”
You sit in his lap when you’re done. Naked with your dress bunched around your midriff. Nips stiff and perky – too cute to ignore, so every now and again, he bows his head to give them a kiss or two. It never fails to make you squeal.
“You think you can fit into your old school uniform?” He mouths against you, licking kisses from your chest up to your neck – sucking your cheek before placing a chaste peck on the corner of your mouth. “I wanna poor milk on yah like I used to~
He’s always so clingy after cumming. You try and wrench away from the neediness, but it’s obvious you don’t give it much effort – mostly just scrunching your face. “You’re such a jerk.”
He hums in agreeance, and you feel his smirk through his kisses and then in his laugh. “Don’t cry, it’s not the type of milk you’re thinking of.”
You blush at the comment, ushering out a curt “Pervert.”
But he only pushes, moaning out a “Please~” while kneading your hip and rubbing your thigh – pressing his face into your neck, nuzzling you with eyes closed and mouth open.
So clingy, you feel embarrassed and ticklish under all the attention. Shaking your head. “It won't fit- it’s years ago-”
He pouts with a grumble. But it doesn’t take long before the smirk returns, inching back onto his lips. “I bet you’d fit in mine, though~”
You grow even more shy at the suggestion. “You’re so weird.”
He only laughs. “And you’re so in love with me~ which means you’re even weirder. Hah, loser?”
You frown at the nickname, again making an effort to twist away from the myriad of kisses and lovebites. “You’re insane.”
But he catches your face in his hand. Squishing your cheeks and turning your head to look back at him. “Damn right, I am.” He agrees, then turns it into a playful threat. “So you’d better never leave me. ‘You think I was a bully in school? Just imagine what a nightmare I’d be now. I’m a god; I’d get away with anything.”
You giggle at his silly dramatics. 
“You laugh, but I’m not joking.” He continues, still with your face in his hands. His big round eyes peeled. “I wouldn’t just stalk and terrorize you. I’d destroy your life if you ever left me. I’d make you lose your job, your apartment, your friends, your clan- I’d make sure you had no one left to turn to, nowhere left to run but right back to me.”
Your giggles die down, leaving a small smile playing on your lips before you press them softly against his. 
“And here I was thinking you’d just settle for sending creepy letters…”
He chuckles under his breath, “Childsplay.” Then kisses you again – this time a little longer. Giving your cheeks a squeeze before releasing you softly. Resting his forehead against yours with your noses touching.
His voice is a little more solemn now, genuinely serious this time. 
“But you would never leave me, right?”
The wet traces of his kisses cool in the absence of his lips while his thumbs feather your flesh so delicately. Holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the entire world.
You tilt your head and kiss him again – chastely and sweet.
“Never.”
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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Hi, your last post about reader not knowing that it was sa, I saw that and I wanted to request something. What if reader knows that she have been through it but she mentions this as a joke, she says it and just keep going like she said something silly. How would the boys (141 + konig) react?
(I do this sometimes and I don’t like it, but it feels like some kind of copying mechanism)
I’m sorry if this was too much, do not feel that u need to write this.
Anyway, thank u so much and take care
Honestly I make out of pocket jokes about my own trauma all the time, so I feel this
tw: mentions of trauma, brief mentions of sexual assault- nothing graphic or descriptive, humor as a coping mechanism, comfort
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Whiplashed so hard his neck is broken
“You bein’ serious?”
You explain what happened but you’re a little too blasé about it, he understands humor as a coping mechanism but this is a little serious
And by ‘a little’ I mean very
“Love, you can’t just drop a bomb like that.” He tries to soften his tone but his rage at what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through
He doesn’t realize he’s being a little hypocritical, we’ve all heard his “army humor” so he really doesn’t have a lot of room to talk. But the fact that it happened to you has blinded him to that fact. It’s not that you can’t make jokes, it’s that you shouldn’t have to because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
He doesn’t even let you apologize before he’s pulling you into his arms, hands shaking, doing his best not to imagine what kind of sick fuck would do that to you
“Simon, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm and he’s refusing to let you go, so instead of arguing, you opted to melt into his embrace. Hands running up and down his back and as he’s kissing the crown of your head he’s wondering how worthwhile it’d be to give the fucker a visit. Maybe teach him a lesson or two.
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
Laughing with your joke at first but then it hits him like a ton of bricks
“Beg your pardon?”
You explain the joke and the context with a dismissive laugh before going back to what you were doing and he’s just frozen in place
Someone… hurt you… in one of the most awful ways imaginable, and you’re laughing it off?
He’s not sure if he should be in awe at your resilience or concerned at your choice of coping mechanism, so he takes a gentle approach
“Bonnie, you know you can talk to me, aye?”
“I know, I just… don’t want to burden you with it. I mean, it’s not like it’s your fault it happened.” He’s holding your hands in his, gently massaging the space between your thumb and your index finger,
“Aye that’s true, but it’s you. And I love you, good and bad included.” He gently held the back of your head and kissed your forehead,
“Anytime you feel like talkin’ I’m here. Copy?”
He doesn’t usually bring work jargon home but he knows it gets a laugh from you, and sure enough your little giggle proved him right
“Copy.”
John Price:
The whiplash also broke his neck
“Sorry, what?”
His heart broke when you explained yourself and whined that the explanation ruined the punchline
“Sweetheart, that’s no laughin’ matter.” His tone was gentle as he approached you, hands hesitantly coming to rest on your hips, suddenly unsure of himself
“Honey, I’m fine. It’s how I cope.”
“I know, and there’s nothin’ wrong with that. Just, maybe, talk to me about it instead, yeah?” One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you closed your eyes and leaned into the warmth of his palm, trapping it between your cheek and your shoulder
“I don’t wanna be a downer, John.”
“Never. I’m more concerned for your well-being than bloody mood. Am I clear?” As you looked in his eyes, you saw nothing but honesty and genuine concern, so you nodded
You closed your eyes and kissed his palm before he pulled you in to a tight embrace.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He heard you say it and weakly laughs before stopping as he chews on the words a little more
“Wait, what was that?”
And when you’re passively explaining it to him in the same way you’d talk about the weather he is in shock
He’s not sure if you’re trying to put on a brave face if you’re as nonchalant as you seem. He’s inclined to believe it’s the former.
“Babe that’s no joke. That’s kind of serious.”
“Don’t sweat it, Kyle. It’s how I’ve dealt with it. I’ve got it.”
He’s unsure but at the same time if it’s really worked for you so far then there’s no harm in letting it continue right? Wrong. He’s a little uncomfortable but it’s more so because it happened to you, someone he loves so deeply and he can’t fathom the idea
“Well yeah, I get that. But maybe we can talk about it when you feel like joking about it?” He shrugs, his words cautious and carefully chosen as he makes his suggestion
“I just want you to be alright. Ok?” His arms are rubbing yours before he’s pulling you into a hug, “I’ll always be here for you, babe.”
König:
Not a single chuckle from this man as he’s chewing over the words in his head
“Schatz, what’d you just say?”
When you explained what happened with a shrug and an all too casual tone, he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek
He doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, never in a million years, but jesus christ schatz, surely there’s no way?
It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, he just can’t believe it happened to you, you’re the light of his life, his reason for existing, you’re the morning sun and the midnight moon, he’s truly in shock
“König?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and in two short steps he was in front of you, sinking to his knees and hugging your middle. He’s buried his face in your shoulder as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you run your fingers through his hair.
“Liebling, please don’t make those jokes anymore, ok?” His voice is so small and fragile, you almost felt like it was a child talking instead of the 6’ something behemoth at your feet, “I can’t stand to hear that you’ve been hurt like that.”
“König it’s ok, really. Humor is how I cope.” You kiss the crown of his head and your chin against it,
“I know, liebling, I know but I’d much rather you talk to me ok? Please? For me?”
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
Text
Title: Home.
Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (Spiderverse).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Spiderverse Spoilers, Non///Con, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Nonconsensual Touching, Emotional Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, and Blood.
A Spiritual Continuation To This Drabble.
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You were probably starting to blister.
It was hard to tell. Your body felt strange, your head filled with cotton and your thoughts still blurred into one foggy, vaguely panicked haze. You were numb, and aching, and wide awake, and waiting for the moment you could lie down on a cold, hard surface and curl up until you felt like yourself, again. That man – Miguel, you reminded yourself, the desperation in his voice as he’d muttered it to you still echoing in your mind – said it was a side-effect of traveling between dimensions, that you’d be fine as long as you didn’t mess with the ring of metal around your wrist, but you couldn’t seem to tightness in your throat, couldn’t seem to forget the glimpse of a bruising puncture mark you’d caught before forcing yourself to turn away from the bathroom’s only mirror.
You’d lost track of how long you’d been there, slumped against the tiled wall of a stranger’s shower stall, trying to make sense of what little you’d learned. It had to have been an hour, if not more, but the water was still as hot as it had been when you’d half-consciously gotten in, when you decided you could burn yourself out of this situation. A benefit of being dragged into the future against your will, you guessed. At least you’d never run out of hot water, while you were trapped here.
You sighed, letting your head lull forward, but you didn’t have much time to wallow in your self-pity. You heard the automated door slide open (there wasn’t a lock, you’d checked, and then checked again, and then checked again), and snapped up just in time to see Miguel stepping past the threshold, still wearing that strained, manic grin. It looked unnatural. If you hadn’t been so scared, if you didn’t already feel so vulnerable, you might’ve asked him to stop.
Reflectively, you scrambled for a towel before remembering that you weren’t in your own bathroom, that you weren’t even in your own dimension, and shrinking into yourself, doing what you could to hide yourself away from him without the aid of a proper barrier. “I— I’m not done, just give me—”
“Relax.” His tone was calm, but strict, only slightly muffled by the shirt he was already pulling over his head. You caught the edge of a jagged scar, an expanse of tan skin, before jerking away and training your eyes on the floor. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. We’re married, remember?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before stepping in front of you, momentarily cutting off your supply of scalding water. Unlike you, he seemed to want you to see him - standing just a little too close, holding himself just a little too tall, revealing just a little too much a little too quickly. You made a point of keeping your eyes on his face – or, as much as his face as you could see, anyway. The room you’d woken up in (his bedroom, you figured, despite how blank it’d been, how uncomfortable its bare walls and empty shelves had made you) had been dark, and his bathroom was no better. The lights had been dimmed to the point of near-total darkness, and you were starting to miss your apartment’s constantly flickering lights, your office’s blinding phosphorescents. You could only hope the rest of his dimension wouldn’t be so dark. You didn’t know what you would do if you had to spend the rest of your life stumbling around in the dark.
“We were married, you mean,” you mumbled, then shook your head. “Or, you were married to another version of me, I think? I’m sorry, I’m having a little trouble wrapping my head around…” You paused, gesturing to your meager surroundings. “…around this.”
His smile took on a softer lull. “In another world, a version of me was married to a version of you. When that version of me died, I did what I could to fill the gap. It didn’t work out, but…” A hand on your shoulder, then your jaw. You flinched at the unearned contact, but he didn’t pull away. “It was good, for a while. We had a daughter, Gabriella, and we took care of each other.”
You managed a weak laugh. “It’s hard to believe I’d take meeting my husband’s doppelganger that well.”
“Yeah, it is.”
There was a short lapse of silence. You chose to ignore the bluntness of his response, the bitter taste that spread over your tongue. “Maybe I’ll meet my own version of you when I get back home. It seems like we can’t stop running into each other.” And then, with more than a note of genuine excitement. “I will be able to go back to my own dimension, right? No offense, but I’m already starting to feel a little homesick.”
“Eventually. We’re looking for another solution as quickly as we can, but for now, it’s important that you stay where you are.” The pad of his thumb ran over your cheek. “Just your presence here is saving millions of lives.”
With no small amount of hesitation and a pained smile of your own, you reached up, taking him by the wrist and pushing his hand back down to his side. In his defense, he didn’t put up a fight. You could’ve missed the way his grin wavered, the carnal shade of scarlet that flashed across his eyes, if not for the way the shadows flickered at the slightest disturbance. “But I’ll be able to go home when you’re done?”
“Eventually,” he reiterated. “I’ll be taking care of you, in the meantime.”
Slowly, reluctantly, you nodded, letting out a shaky breath.
It wasn’t like there was anything else you could do, right?
~
You felt like you were going blind.
Miguel had been paranoid – making excuses, offering half-baked explanations, changing the topic every time you found the confidence to push – but even he couldn’t keep you in his dark, empty bedroom forever, lest you grow bored enough to throw the fate of the multi-verse aside and start messing with the bolt of silver latched onto your wrist. You could see why he’d wanted to keep you locked up. The rest of his society (organization? foundation? glorified playground for anyone with a spider-aesthetic and a seemingly endless supply of bad one-liners?), unlike its founder, was a beacon of color and noise, of friendly faces and helpful people. You could see why it might’ve made the thought of going home that much more difficult, for someone who’d had a much gentler introduction to it than you.
You could see how it made the time you spent alone with Miguel seem that much darker, in comparison.
Currently, you were in a room you’d once heard one of the more brash Peter Parkers’ refer to as ‘Miguel’s Cave’ – the makeshift lab where he spent most of his time leering over holographic screens and growling at constantly malfunctioning technology you couldn’t so much as pretend to understand, sitting cross-legged next to a collection of well-beaten consoles, squinting at a book you could hardly make out in the dim light. You didn’t know much about him or his society, every detail pried out through either sheer force of will or gleaned from a combination of different half-explanations, but he seemed to be the default leader, the one responsible for making sure this operation didn’t fall apart at the seams. He was stressed, obviously, but you couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to feel bad for him, not when every new setback led to a new hole in the wall, another chair broken over his knee (hence why you were sitting on the floor). It was hard to feel pity for a man who could snap your neck with a flick of his wrist, no matter how often he promised he wasn’t going to hurt you.
When your vision started to blur and the knot of tension in the back of your skull turned from uncomfortable to aching, you let your attention drift to his constantly revolving screens, all showing another incomprehensible piece of another incomprehensible dimension. For a moment, your gaze caught on a scene that seemed out of place, featuring a girl no older than ten running happily toward whoever was holding the camera, but you moved on quickly. You’d already seen a few preteen spider-people, around the society. You wouldn’t be surprised if Miguel had a way of watching them after they’d returned to their own dimensions.
Your eyes fell on Miguel, next. He was in the state he seemed to revert to whenever he thought your back was turned – shoulders squared, eyes set into a stern glare, the points of his fangs just barely visible against his bottom lip. He looked angry, but then again, he always looked a little angry. You could only assume that whatever spider he’d gotten his powers from didn’t have a sense of humor, either.
Eventually, he glanced in your direction, his scowl immediately fading. You didn’t try to look away. You caught him staring at you often enough. If you were lucky, he’d realize how awful it could feel to know you were always being watched. “Need something?”
You shrugged, letting your head lull to the side. “Just wondering if you’ve made any progress.”
“Depends on what you want to call ‘progress’. Technically, we’re bringing in another dozen requites every day, but I don’t see the point in handing a watch to every—”
“Progress in my case, I mean,” you cut in, trying to keep your tone light. “Not that I don’t like it here! I’m just… a little anxious to get home, I guess. I’d just like to be able to check in – preferably without the multi-verse collapsing.”
It was quick, but you caught it. A quirk of his lips, a glint of annoyance quickly drowned out by schooled stoicism. He didn’t like it when you brought up leaving, but then again, he didn’t seem to like anything.
Rather than answer you, he sighed, pushing himself away from his consoles. He gestured for you to stand and, somewhat reluctantly, you pushed yourself to your feet, taking a tentative step close to him before a strong arm lashed out, wrapping around your waist and hauling you into his lap. You chuckled, shoving playfully at his shoulder, but when he didn’t relent, you didn’t tell him to let you go. It was just a habit, you told yourself, doing your best to brush it off. It was just a holdover from a past life, from the time he spent with another version of you. It was the least you could do to let him live out a few old, relatively innocent fantasies.
He moved to touch your cheek, but managed to hold himself back, opting to toy with the fabric of your collar, instead. “Have you ever thought about kids?”
You did what you could not to look at him, but when he was so close, when he’d made himself such an unignorable part of your now-limited world, it was hard to find a way past him. “Not really, no. Never had the time for it, and I was never in the right place.”
“That’s how I felt, before I met you.” His lips against your forehead, then the curve of your jaw. It was just a habit, you reminded yourself, more forcefully than you really had to. He wasn’t trying to make you this uncomfortable. “I never thought I’d stay up until sunrise icing cupcakes for a third grader’s birthday party either, but you made me want that kind of life. I would’ve gone to a million soccer games just to see you and Gabriella smile like that again. To me, you were always home.”
“Your version of me, you mean.” This time, you couldn’t make yourself sound anything but irritated. “You might’ve changed your mind, but I’m really not the little league type.”
You heard him mutter something in Spanish, low and throaty and entirely incomprehensible to you. There was sharp nip to the curve of your throat, a broad chest pressed against yours, and then, he was kissing you, his mouth crashing into yours before you could even try to protest. You tried to scream, to pull his hair and pry him off of you, but he only groaned in response, only forced himself closer – his tongue forcing its way past your and his hand wrapping around your neck as you thrashed against him. Frantically, desperate to just get him away from you, you lashed out blindly, racking your nails across his check with enough force to break the skin, to draw blood. That earned a reaction, but not the one you were looking for. Rather than release you, his hold on your throat only grew tighter, his breathing more ragged he picked you up and slammed you against his console, a dozen golden screens shuttering under the force of the collision. It wasn’t a groan, now, but a growl, deep and throaty and wanting. His fangs pierced your lips, the taste of metal and rust spilling over your tongue as—
“Miguel.”
Finally, he tore himself away from you, baring his teeth at Jesse where she stood in the lab’s doorway. She didn’t flinch, only crossing her arms over her chest and meeting his aggression with a deadpan stare. “There’s a situation on Earth-241.”
Blunt, snipped, pointed. Miguel’s response was no better. “Why didn’t you have Lyla alert me?”
“She couldn’t. Apparently, she’s been ordered not to bother you when you’re with (Y/n).” Her attention drifted to you, panting and bleeding and still pinned underneath Miguel. Jesse stiffened, then went on. “You sure this is safe, man?”
“Trust me. I’ve run the simulations, done the math, taken all the necessary precautions. The canon won’t be affected.”
“The canon’s not what I’m worried about.”
She didn’t offer any further explanation, exiting as abruptly as she’d appeared. Miguel waited until she was out of sight, out of earshot before sighing and letting go of your neck. With no strength left to hold yourself up, you sank to the floor, fighting the urge to tremble, to shrink into yourself, to cry until you weren’t choking on the taste of your own blood. Miguel only sighed, running his fingers over the red lines you’d carved into his cheek before typing something into his watch. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, a kaleidoscope of bursting color and blinding light spiraling into existence in front of him. A portal, one you’d see him disappear into a hundred times. A portal that could that you home, if you ever dredged up the courage to throw yourself into it. “Stay out of trouble until I get back.”
Blearily, as if in a daze, you watched from a distance as he stepped out of this dimension and into another, the portal spiraling shut a moment later. When he was gone and the lab had gone dark, you lowered yourself to the ground, curled into yourself, and shut your eyes, willing your heart to stop beating so quickly before it stopped beating altogether.
It was pathetic, but you couldn’t seem to think of anything else to do.
~
For the first time in as long as you could remember, you couldn’t feel anything at all.
You weren’t numb, because numbness would’ve meant there was still a tether between your mind and your body, a link between spirit and flesh. It didn’t feel like you were floating on air, or consumed by static, because it felt like nothing. The void was all-consuming, swallowing you whole and keeping you suspended in that space of unliving consciousness, awake but inactive, aware but unable to do anything more than lie there, breathe, and wait for it to be over. You felt nothing. You never wanted to feel anything again.
Except, Miguel’s venom wasn’t so merciful as to leave in that void permanently. You could already make out a bruising soreness in the side of your neck, the harsh sting of his nails burrowing into your thigh, the seating heat of his body against yours as he rutted into you like a wild animal, like a man crazed. Your body had been bent in on itself, your knees pressed into your chest and your ankles thrown over his shoulders – anything that might’ve stopped him from thrusting as deeply, as harshly as he wanted to forced and manhandled out of his way. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the words ‘mating press’ resurfaced, but you buried them as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to think about that. You didn’t want to think about anything.
But, you didn’t have a choice. He was talking again – in Spanish, at first, a breathy string of curses you’d picked up during your time with him, then your name, low and drawn out, distorted by low growls until it’d been reduced to a near-incoherent mantra that would only be broken when his breath hitched, catching as his cock twitched and throbbed inside of you. One of his hands fell away from your thigh, landing next to his head and supporting his weight as he brought himself that much closer to you, as his mouth found yours in a clumsy, messy kiss. You could taste your own blood on his tongue, his fangs. You could taste the venom that’d left you so vulnerable to him. It burnt more than it should’ve.
“Mi cielo.” The words were muffled, spoken against your as he fell lower – to your collarbone, struggling to speak between haphazard love-bites to your chest. “My love, my light, my—” A sharp breath, a violent thrust. “I love you. We— We’re going to be happy together, this time.”
It was all you could do to lift your head, to force your lips to move against the weight of his waning paralysis. Your voice was barely audible, cracked and fractured in all the worst ways, but it was clear. Even against the sound of his skin crashing against yours, against the screaming agony of your own violation, it was clear.
“Am… am I ever going home?”
For a moment, Miguel paused, his eyes flickering towards you.
Then, you felt him smile against your skin and, the first time, it didn’t seem quite so pained. “You are,” he muttered, straightening his back. “And you’re never leaving again.”
Then, without hesitation, without mercy, he drove his fangs into your throat. You tried, weakly but desperately, to dislodge him, to claw at his back, to dig your nails into whatever you could reach and tear, but it was futile. His venom was already in your blood, coursing through your veins, rendering you as helpless as you’d always felt, around him. Soon enough, your arms were limp and useless around where they’d been strung around his neck, and you were pulled back into that unmoving, unfeeling, uncaring state. You didn’t try to resist it, this time.
It wasn’t like there had ever been anything you could do to save yourself from Miguel, anyway.
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